Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake (A Brush with Love, #2)(39)

“So where did you and Rake leave things?” Indira asked.

“Well, we decided to coparent and stuff. One of his parents is originally from the U.S. so he has dual citizenship, apparently. He also mentioned some job opportunity here that he’s going to take.”

“And what will coparenting look like?” Thu asked.

Lizzie shrugged. “Uh, well, I think maybe it’s going to look like he and I … uh … living together?” Lizzie shot a quick glance at Indira to see how she was taking the news. The pair had known each other since high school and lived together for the last five years, taking many drunken vows to die together in their apartment.

Indira nodded, unlatching the iron grip of nerves around Lizzie’s heart. “I totally get it.”

“Are you two, like, together?” Harper asked.

Lizzie shook her head. “No. Definitely not. We don’t … I don’t think we … We don’t feel that way for each other. It’s more of a totally-platonic-roommates-who-happened-to-have-had-really-great-sex-a-few-times-and-then-made-a-baby situation.”

“Pretty run-of-the-mill stuff,” Thu added dryly, smiling at Lizzie.

“I know it isn’t normal,” Lizzie said, adding air quotes around the last word. “But I think it kind of makes sense … right? We’ll both be around to raise le bébé, split finances, et cetera, et cetera. And if it totally sucks, then we get our own places or whatever. I don’t know.” Lizzie pressed one hand over her thrumming heart and the other over her rolling tummy, feeling overwhelmed.

“And are you going to bone this platonic roommate?” Indira asked, arching a perfect, thick eyebrow.

“We haven’t talked about it, but I’m not exactly opposed to the idea,” Lizzie said, plucking at the couch. The truth was, she’d been dreaming about Rake, naked and sweaty with his head between her thighs, every night since they’d met, and the idea was creeping into her daytime psyche too.

“That sounds a bit messy,” Thu said, a soft warning in her voice.

“When am I not?” Lizzie said with a laugh. “And it’s just sex. We’re both adults. It’s fine.” The room was quiet for a moment while they all turned that over.

“When are you guys leaving?” Lizzie asked Thu and Harper.

“Thu’s flight leaves tonight, and Dan and I are taking the train back to New York at five.”

Lizzie nodded, sadness poking at the soft spot between her ribs at the impending goodbye.

“I actually better get going,” Lizzie said, glancing at the time on her phone. “I have an interview at a bakery in Fishtown—I’ll clean up the kitchen when I get back, Dira,” Lizzie said, standing and taking in the mess she’d made. “Thank you guys for…” Lizzie flapped her hands at them, feeling overcome with emotions again.

“We’ll always be here for you, Lizzie,” Harper said, standing to give her a hug. Thu and Indira latched on, and they stayed like that for a few heartbeats, their golden thread of friendship weaving and buzzing through their veins, binding them together.

Eventually, Lizzie disentangled herself, grabbed her purse, and headed for her interview.



* * *



BERNADETTE’S BAKERY WAS in a squat, yellow building off the main strip of Fishtown’s thriving, eclectic neighborhood. Pushing through the heavy front door, Lizzie was hit by the familiar smell of sugar and bread and comfort, the constant perfume of her job. She could get high off the sweetness.

But a quick glance around the small shop showed a bakery that looked … not great.

Three small tables were crammed in, and a huge but nearly empty pastry case sat by the register. The menu was written in fading chalk on the back wall, smudged in multiple spots. The small glimpse she caught of the back kitchen through the swinging door window looked similarly shoddy.

Whatever.

Lizzie could make due working under a bridge with a trash can fire if it meant she was earning wages.

A tall, older woman stepped out from the kitchen, the mass of her frizzy gray hair nearly touching both sides of the doorway. She pulled off her yellow apron, revealing a billowy top and a long skirt. She had thick glasses and a sharp nose that she looked down as she evaluated Lizzie.

“Hi,” Lizzie said at last. Something about the woman was both beautiful and terrifying. “I’m Lizzie. I’m here for the job interview.”

Bernadette nodded, eyeing Lizzie closely for a long moment before saying, “Hello. I’d had a feeling our auras would be complementary. Let’s take a seat and get to it.”

She swept toward the closest table, her multicolored skirt like a fluffy cloud around her ankles.

“My … my aura? You can see my aura?” Lizzie asked, taking the seat opposite Bernadette.

Bernadette nodded.

“What color is it?” Lizzie asked, her voice rising and eyes widening with excitement.

“Magenta,” Bernadette said, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and a notepad from her skirt pocket. “You have strong blue emissions indicating your creativity, but it’s mixed with a vibrant red, which tells me you have a deep connection with the physical world.”

“No arguing with that,” Lizzie said with a lascivious wink. Bernadette blinked at her.