Page 15 of Recipe for Rivals

Not possible. Plus, I’ve learned a lot

I picked up my keys and let myself out of the apartment, walking across the alley to the diner and sucking in a breath of frigid air.

Nova

I’ve changed my mind. A good, solid cold-shoulder will suffice

Blair

We both know you aren’t going to do that

She was right, as loath as I was to admit it. Annoying, really.I could talk a big game, but if Carter put in any effort to speak to the kids, I would move mountains to make sure they answered the phone.

Nova

I won’t. But it has nothing to do with Carter

Blair

I know. It has everything to do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Where are my babies today? Can I FaceTime them?

Nova

School. Same as yours

Blair

Are you in the kitchen? Have you been baking?

My stomach constricted. There wasn’t a need for my specific baking skills here. Even if there was, it would probably feel weird and raw. My family had urged me to take the leap into starting a cookie company over the years, but Carter didn’t like the idea of me peddling for change—his words—so I’d mostly kept it to school functions and friends’ parties. I hadn’t made any cookies since he’d left.

Nova

Gigi has me cooking at the diner. I learned southern fried chicken last week and it wasn’t half bad

Blair

I think we need a two-hour phone date tonight and a solid update. Your texts don’t provide enough information

Make it FaceTime, because I want to see everything

Nova

It’s a date

“Good morning, lovey,” Gigi said when I let myself in through the back door of the diner. “You want to jump in and get the meatloaf going for lunch?”

“You spoil me,” I said, squeezing Dal’s shoulder on my way past him. Bacon sizzled and pancakes bubbled on the long flat cooktop.

But Gigi didn’t laugh.

I put my things in the cupboard at the end of the kitchen and faced her. Purple circles lined her eyes and her smile was forced. “What’s wrong?”

“I got bad news last night.” She gave a wan smile. “Had trouble sleeping, is all. I’m a little tired.”

Shelookedtired. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t, which made me wonder if it wasn’t the right time or place to share her bad news. “Go home,” I told her. “Dal and I have this covered. Who’s coming in to waitress?”

She yawned. “Me.”