Jake put a dollop of sour cream onto his chili, followed by some pepper flakes and ground black pepper, then picked up his spoon. But he stopped when he saw Charlie just staring into her bowl.

“Something wrong with your chili?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Bon appétit!” Charlie also added some sour cream to her bowl, then took a large spoonful, feeling hopeful. But all she could feel was the sensation of the hot chili in her mouth. No flavors, no hint of spice. She forced down another spoonful, because she knew her body needed the food, even if it was unappetizing. After the second bite, her stomach grumbled happily.

Jake offered her the plate of buns. “Thanks,” she said, taking one. “So, tell me more about how you can help. With the website?”

“I could take pictures for you.”

“You’re a photographer?” As if this guy could get any better, Charlie mused. She took a bite of the bun, the top crust shiny with melted butter. She was about to ask about his photography when she noticed Jake had stopped eating, his spoon poised above his chili.

“What?” Charlie asked, taking another bite of the garlic bun. Her fingers dripped with butter, and she used a paper napkin to wipe away the grease. If only she could taste what she was eating.

Jake looked at her strangely, placing his spoon back in the bowl. “You know I do photography, Cass,” he said. “I’ve been taking photos for Brett’s listings. For house stagings?” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, maybe he hasn’t mentioned it? I sort of assumed . . .” Jake seemed uncomfortable bringing up Brett, and Charlie tried to catch up.

“No, of course. Staging photos. Yes. I just—”

This second embarrassing moment of the evening was interrupted by the sound of her sister’s name being called across the bar. She looked up: it was Brett, standing by the door. Why was he always showing up at the worst times?

Brett approached their table, his cheeks colored by the cold, his hair perfectly gelled in place, a neutral plaid scarf meticulously tied around his neck. “What are you two doing?”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Jake stood and gave Brett’s hand a shake. “Want to join us?” he asked.

“No thanks, I’ve got some work to do.” Brett glanced at Charlie. “Hey, babe, I was trying to call you, but it went to voicemail. A bunch of times.”

“Oh really?” His use of the term babe grated at her nerves. Charlie suspected Cass had turned off her phone because of Brett’s incessant calling, but knew she had to offer an explanation on the spot. “Yeah, my phone is dead. I haven’t had a chance to charge it. The bakery has been nonstop.”

Brett frowned. “Hmm. Well, I don’t like not being able to get a hold of you.” Charlie gave him a wan smile, not liking his proprietary tone.

“I was going to pick us up some take-out, but it looks like you’re all set.” Brett gestured to the dishes on the table, eyebrows raised. Cass had said she and Brett had broken up, hadn’t she? So why did her sister’s ex seem to think getting take-out for the two of them made any sense?