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"You can't even spend ten minutes with your own sisters without arguing with them, so don't tell me how to live my life."
I stalk out of the house before she can say another word. I just need to get away from everyone. Most of all, myself.
***
The sun is angling toward the mountains as I start across the wide-open field that separates my new home from the forest.
There are still hours of daylight.
Too many hours.
I want to curl up in the darkness and pretend the world doesn't exist.
Instead, glutton for punishment, I dial Abby. I don't want to listen to voice mail messages. I want to know exactly what she has to say to me.
I step into the shade of the forest, my feet leaving no mark on the dirt path that connects with the network of trails the forest service maintains.
"Dani, where the hell are you? I've left like ten messages."
The venom in her tone shocks me. "I was at work. I haven't listened to your messages. What's going on?"
"Work? Where are you working?"
"What difference does it make? I'm not your partner anymore, I can work wherever I want."
"You can't work for a bakery that's a potential competitor of Starshine, Dani. I thought you understood that."
How have I never noticed how condescending she sounds when she explains something to me? "I never signed a non-compete clause."
"Fine, but you can't use the same recipes you used for Starshine. Those are proprietary."
I bark out a laugh that verges on hysterical. "That's bullshit, Abby, and you know it. I never signed away my rights to my own recipes."
"It's understood." Abby sounds weary. "The recipes are a central part of Starshine's uniqueness. You need to return them all to me."
If she asked for anything else, I might give in to keep the peace. But she's asking for my recipes, my creations, a little piece of my soul. Not to mention she betrayed me. I still have enough anger and hurt to fuel my resistance. "No."
"No? Dani, you do realize those recipes are mine by rights."
"No. They're mine. I created them and they aren't the property of Starshine." I honestly have no idea if I'm under a legal obligation to give them up, but if that's the case, I'm gonna require proof from an actual lawyer.
"I don't want to be your enemy, Dani. But if I have to sue you to get those recipes and save Starshine, I'll do it."
"You're already my enemy." My voice is shaking, but I manage to get the words out. I hate this. I miss my best friend and I don't want to burn this bridge. Unfortunately, she hasn't given me any choice. "You became my enemy when you cut me out of our partnership. You became my enemy when you gave bad references to every bakery I applied to work for." I'm not sure she did that last thing, but accusing her directly seems like a good way to find out.
Abby laughs, but it's a sharp-edged, cruel laugh. The sort of laugh I've only ever heard from her when she's talking to someone else, a distributor or employee who's being, according to her, irrational. "I was just telling them the truth, Dani. I hope you don't confuse my wanting your recipes with me suggesting you're a decent baker. You created good recipes, but you had a poor execution. I'll expect those recipes in ten days or you'll be hearing from my lawyer."
I hang up and burst into tears. I didn't realize until she admitted her guilt how much I'd been hoping I was wrong about her. How much I'd been hoping she hadn't betrayed me in every way imaginable.
Sinking down to sit on the dirt trail, I wrap my arms around my shins, drop my head onto my knees and just sob. I cry for everything I've lost, not just my bakery and my best friend, but my dream.
A dream like opening my own bakery only comes true once in a lifetime. I had it and I lost it and the idea of going through all the years of hard work and planning it took to get there again seems harder than climbing Mount Everest.
In the past, if I was this upset, I'd talk to Abby, but she's no longer an option, obviously. Now, I'm all alone and there's nothing under me, nothing to catch me, except the promise of an inheritance if I can just stick it out and live in that house for the rest of the year.
A house I don't want to go back into because I'll have to face Goldy, who I yelled at and who now knows what a total loser I truly am.
My tears are running dry when something wet and rough moves over the top of my head.
