“Come on, Bea,” I said. “Put us out of our misery.”

“No. You can marinate in it,” Bea said. “Back to the topic at hand.”

“Gaz’s baking career?” I asked innocently.

Bea actually snapped her fingers in front of my face. Cilla swatted her hand away.

“Leave it, Bea. She’s just been in a sex scandal.”

“Please. Everyone has been in a sex scandal,” Bea said. “Someday I’ll tell you about the time Penelope Eight-Names offered me an antique urn in exchange for a threesome with me and Gemma.” She raised a brow. “After her wedding.”

Gaz poked his head out the patio door. “I’m listening.”

“What more could there possibly be to that story?” Cilla said, popping a petit four into her mouth. “Mmm, that one’s coffee.”

“Well, we don’t know if she got the urn,” Gaz said.

I rubbed my face with my hands. “Look,” I said. “I get that it was insane to think Nick and I could cruise back into town, and that nothing would change. We might look the same on the outside, but on the inside, everything is—”

“A savory curry petit four,” Bea said drily.

“Basically,” I said. “Freddie clearly doesn’t want us all up in his business. But I don’t know how to respect his personal space and do as I’m told by Eleanor.”

“Freddie is a grown man, and he’s going to have to learn to deal with you, seeing as you don’t appear to be going anywhere,” she said.

“That makes me sound so appealing,” I said.

Cilla and Bea exchanged unreadable looks. “You’re not meant to be appealing to him, Bex,” Bea said. “You’re meant to be an unremarkable part of his day. He needs…to grow accustomed to your face.”

“Thanks, Professor Higgins.”

“You actually are my Eliza Doolittle,” Bea said. “But my point is that by keeping yourself scarce, every encounter feels fresh. Remind Freddie of how dull you actually are.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Cilla jumped in, giving Bea a dirty look. “But Bea’s right that avoiding each other hasn’t fixed anything. Compel him to deal with you, like you did with Eleanor.”

“There is nothing less sexy than being tiresome,” Bea said.

“I wouldn’t be too certain,” called Gaz, from inside their sliding door. “Tiresome was my only move, and it got me a goddess.”

“It’s wearing out its welcome,” Cilla said, but as usual, she was smiling. “Either come to tea or don’t, Gaz, but hovering makes you look like a nutter.”

In a flash—I have never seen Gaz move so fast—he came out and plopped into the fourth chair. It didn’t jiggle.

“I thought you said they were all wonky,” I said.