Page 73 of Culinary Chaos

If she leaned a little more, Hope’s arm would touch her. The heat from her body would sear her skin. They’d be connected again. But this was how it all started, wasn’t it? This was how everything would start to spiral out of control and Angelica would lose out once again on the happiness that she actually really wanted in her life.

“How did you figure it out, by the way?” Hope asked.

“The bookkeeper?” Angelica needed clarification, because how she’d figured out she had a crush on Hope was something else entirely, and it wasn’t as straightforward as it might seem.

“Yeah.” Hope faced her, that ever-present smile on her lips, her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I couldn’t even figure it out.”

“Because you were only looking at the records she provided you.” Angelica sipped her wine again. “Once I asked Tatum for the actual bank documents, it was easy to figure out where it went.”

“He’s in for a legal battle to get that money recovered.”

Angelica hummed, holding the wine glass in her fingers as she stared across the garden. In the dark, she couldn’t make out the shapes of the plants or the vegetables growing there, but she didn’t need to. The scents of them surrounded her, consumed her. Along with Hope’s unique scent, the one that Angelica had never been able to make her brain forget.

Lilacs just after a soft spring rain.

Angelica loved lilacs. She always had, but she hadn’t seen them bloom in years. Hell, probably decades. She’d spent too much time cooped up inside, working. Perhaps she did need to get out a bit more, not just for the quick middle-of-the-night runs that she normally took, but to actuallysmell the rosesso to speak.

Maybe she’d find happiness somewhere there.

“I’ll take it if this is our easiest episode to film ever.” Hope laughed gently. “And I’d come back here any day. I want to meet Baxter and Miriam.”

Angelica hummed her agreement. “Vacation here?”

“Maybe I’ll take Eva skiing someday.”

“That’d be a sight. Do you ski?”

“Not a day in my life.” Hope shook her head wildly. “You?”

“In my younger years…” Angelica pursed her lips. “My parents would go on skiing trips by Lake Tahoe twice a year when I was growing up. At least until Christian was born, then that slowed down. They weren’t very equipped to have two kids.”

Hope poured Angelica even more wine. She hadn’t realized that she’d finished her glass already. “We were too poor to takeskiing trips. Four daughters living in LA County? Yeah, not recommended without a seven-figure salary.”

Angelia snorted. “Sounds about right.”

She’d been privileged growing up, she knew that. And while she’d never taken advantage of it, she hadn’t spurned it either. She’d used what she had to get where she was now, and she had never second guessed those choices.

“What did your parents do for work?” Hope asked.

“Oh, um, my father was a chief financial officer for a couple different companies over the years. He was always the boss from what I remember. I don’t think he ever had to work hard to end up in charge of anyone.” Angelica swallowed that thought. She was probably bringing in too much emotion into that one and she should cut it out. “My mom worked as a teller at a bank until Christian was born and then again when he graduated high school.”

“But she didn’t stop working when you were born?”

“No.” Angelica took a long sip of wine. “I was a girl. So no.”

“What difference does that make?”

“The world.” Angelica breathed deeply, debating how much to drop into the conversation and how much to leave out. “They loved me, that’s not in question. But I wasn’t a son, which meant the expectations were different, and it meant that I didn’t need their full attention.”

“Because you weren’t expected to stay in the family?”

“Precisely.” Angelica frowned. “I was expected to get married, have a few kids, and join myhusband’sfamily, leaving them behind.”

Hope nodded slowly and leaned in a little closer. “How very wrong they were.”

“Yes, very.” Angelica bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes locking on Hope’s. “But they never got over it, even all these years later.”

“Hmm… disappointed dreams are sometimes the hardest to grieve, especially if one doesn’t want to actually grieve them.” Hope brushed her fingers across Angelica’s shoulder.