Something to Talk About(34)

“We’ve got to celebrate somehow,” Jo said. “Champagne in the workplace is frowned upon, right? Perhaps we should get some cake delivered.”

Emma suddenly sat up straighter, mischief behind her smile. “Or”—she dragged out the word—“we could go on a field trip?”

“A field trip?” Jo raised her eyebrows. Was this elementary school?

“To Floured Up?”

Emma’s lips turned up, her head tilted, and she employed what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes. Jo knew she was being manipulated. She said yes anyway.



* * *



—

“There it is,” Emma announced, beaming as they approached the bakery.

There was a rainbow flag hanging out front of a two-story brick storefront. It fit right in in West Hollywood. Chloe dropped them at the curb, and Emma clambered out of the car. She flounced to the door and pulled it open with a flourish, a bell ringing from inside the store. Jo thanked Emma for holding the door for her.

The inside was as bright as the flag outside, yellow walls with thick lime-green chevrons, tables and chairs of all different colors. There was no one at the register. Emma marched right into the employees-only section, behind a long display case filled with pastries, loaves of bread in baskets on the wall on her other side.

“Hi, welcome to—oh, it’s you.” Avery appeared from the back. “This is the first time all day I’ve had a minute to actually get work done and not deal with customers. Why are you bugging me at work? Why aren’t you at work?” Regardless of the annoyance in her voice, she hugged Emma tight. Then she spotted Jo. “Oh. It’s both of you.”

“Hello,” Jo said.

“Avery, Jo. Jo, Avery,” Emma said. “I know you met at the wrap party, but always better to reintroduce people than not.”

Right.

That answered that question, then. Apparently Avery had never said anything to Emma about baseball. Jo shifted on her feet.

“Nice to, uh, see you again,” Avery said.

“Likewise.”

Emma slid open the back of the display case, reached in, and grabbed herself a cookie. She closed her eyes and hummed at her first bite.

“You’re the best baker in the world.”

Avery flushed at the hyperbolic comment. “Whatever,” she said. “I’m going back to the kitchen. Stop being a glutton and get your boss whatever she wants.”

She disappeared to where Jo assumed the kitchen was. When Jo looked back to Emma, her assistant grinned at her. Jo couldn’t help but smile back.

Emma held up the cookie she’d chosen. “This is the best snickerdoodle you’ll ever eat.” She gestured to the display case. “But you can see the great variety to choose from.”

There were cookies of various kinds, cupcakes, coconut macaroons, pastries—some of which Jo recognized, some she didn’t. Jo pointed to a sliced loaf of bread, a complicated, intricate swirl of something dark inside it.

“This looks good. What is it?”

“Chocolate babka!” Emma crowed. “A Floured Up specialty and an excellent choice.”

She used a sheet of wax paper to retrieve a slice for Jo and presented it to her on a bright red plate with a fork.

“C’mon,” Emma said. She leaned into the display case one more time to grab herself a second cookie, the first still half-eaten in her hand. “Let’s go bother the baker.”

Jo followed her into the back. The kitchen was smaller than Jo expected, but it was nice. Organized, clean. Avery was measuring flour on an electric scale, a commercial-sized KitchenAid mixer beating away on the counter beside her.

“What are you two even doing here?” Avery asked. “Don’t you have your own work to do?”

“That’s no way to greet guests,” Emma said. She took a bite of her cookie and talked while she chewed. “We’re here because we’re celebrating Jo getting the opening of Agent Silver figured out.”

“Oh yeah?” Avery glanced over her shoulder toward Jo. “Congrats.”

“Thank you,” Jo said.

She set her plate of babka on the stainless-steel-topped table in the middle of the kitchen. She barely suppressed a groan of pleasure at her first bite.

“This is delicious,” she said. “My compliments to the chef.”

Avery poured some of the flour into the mixer. “Thanks,” she said, grinning at Jo.

Emma hopped up to sit on the table, a few feet from Jo’s plate.

“You know,” Avery said, “for a girl who always liked to follow the rules in school, you’re sitting on my tabletop. If the health department came in here, they’d shut me down.”

“Oh, shut up, they would not.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Plus, I’d jump down. I’m very quick.”

Jo pressed her lips together to keep from chuckling.

Emma and Avery continued to banter as Avery combined ingredients. Jo almost joined their conversation to ask after the twins, before worrying that that was too friendly. The sisters were a study in contrasts: Avery short, soft, and focused, where Emma was all long legs and ease. Emma’s hair cascaded everywhere, while Avery’s bob was hidden beneath a bandana. Emma seemed loose, her smile effortless. It was nice, as long as Jo didn’t think about how she and Avery were lying to Emma. By omission, at least.