Jamie fussed around the till, but I could see her grappling with the news. Her brow was wrinkled with confusion, her jaw clenched with tension. But mostly, she just looked sad. When she felt my gaze on her, she looked up and her eyes were shiny with emotion.

“Hormones can be really powerful,” she said weakly. “I just hope you two can sort things out one day.”

“I don’t know. She made some pretty crazy accusations.”

“Do you want some tea?” her voice was strained. “I’m going to make some.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Jamie scuttled to the kitchen. I picked up another one of Freya’s creations and wiped it gently with the cloth.

26

jamie

Alone in the kitchen, I flicked the kettle on and paced the tiny space, waiting for the water to boil. My stomach was queasy, my forehead hot. Freya was pregnant. Why had she kept it from me? I thought we were friends . . . best friends. Her pretense disappointed me. But I had to admit the real source of my distress. I was jealous. Freya, who hated children, who had never wanted one, was pregnant. And I was not.

Of course, Low could be lying. Freya had warned me that the girl would say anything to hurt Freya and Max, the gorgeous couple in the glass house. But this pregnancy news didn’t hurt Freya, it hurt me. Low had no reason to wound me like that. I had stood by her. I had kept her employed even after Freya had banished her. Why would she tell me my best friend was expecting if it wasn’t true?

The electric kettle boiled then and automatically turned itself off. I reached for a mug but stopped. I couldn’t stand there, drinking tea with Low, wondering if what she had told me was the truth. I had to know for sure. And there was only one way to find out. I hurried out of the kitchen.

“It’s so dead today,” I chirped. “Let’s close early.”

Low glanced at the clock on the wall. “But it’s only four.”

“I know. But we haven’t had a customer in hours. There’s not much point staying open.”

“If you want to go, I can stay till five thirty,” my assistant offered. “I’ll cash out and lock up.”

Low had worked alone before. She knew the closing procedures and was fully capable of handling them on her own. But Freya’s words rang in my memory. Don’t trust her. And Low may have just lied to my face, may have said those words just to crush me. Until I knew for sure, I couldn’t leave her alone in my store.

“It’s fine,” I insisted. “You can go. I’ll close up.”

Low loped into the back room to grab her coat. Shooting me a resentful look, she left. I immediately texted Freya.

Closed early. Meet me for happy hour?

If she were pregnant, she wouldn’t be drinking. Shouldn’t be drinking, anyway. I tried to remember the last time we’d had alcohol together. Our recent visits had mostly been walks and coffee dates. She’d brought sandwiches to the store a couple of times and we’d had a picnic on the front counter. But I was almost certain that Freya had had a mimosa on a recent brunch date. Maybe she wasn’t expecting?