Page 86 of Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake
But instead, he sat there, holding her hand and trying tochannel all those thoughts into the spot where their palms touched, wanting to heal the thousands of small cuts she was being subjected to at the table.
“And how’s work going for you, Lizzie?” Ryan asked, taking a bite of food. “Are you still at that place near Callowhill’s med school?”
“Your sister has found a new location to prepare coffee,” Claire said with a sip of wine.
“I’m a baker,” Lizzie corrected in a quiet tone Rake wouldn’t have guessed possible for her. “But it’s going well. I work for this older woman, and she’s given me a lot of creative freedom.”
“That’s great, Lizzie! You’ve always made the best treats,” Mary said. “I actually read the funniest article, and I meant to send it to you,” Mary continued, setting down her fork and knife. “It’s about this bakery in Philadelphia that sells these, shall we say, not-safe-for-work pastries. My jaw was on the floor looking at these things!”
Rake felt Lizzie stiffen next to him, and he scrambled for a conversation change.
“What do you mean, unsafe for work?” Claire asked before Rake could divert the topic.
“Well, they’re…” Mary blushed, “… erotic, I guess would be the best word for them. They’re subtly—well, some are subtle, some are just plain obvious—decorated baked goods to look like private parts. Mainly women’s.”
Claire’s silverware clattered to the table, and Rake felt waves of anxiety cascading off Lizzie’s skin.
“The depravity of people these days,” Claire said, shaking her head. “The overt need to oversexualize everything. Nudity is a private affair, not something for public”—she waved her hand, searching for a word—“consumption,” she landed on.
“I think it’s rather clever,” Mary said, exuding a calming energy around the room. “But have you heard anything about it?”Mary asked Lizzie. “I was stunned that someone could come up with so many different ways to do…that.”
Lizzie shot Rake a horrified look as she opened her mouth, like she was begging him to stop what she was about to say.
“That’s the shop I work at,” Lizzie blurted out, whipping her head to stare at the space in front of her like she could see the words hovering over the table, and she wanted to grab them back. “It’s called Bernadette’s Bakery, and we specialize in sexually suggestive pastries.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Douglas said, dropping his silverware with a clang and rolling his eyes.
The rest of the table was silent.
Mary blinked at Lizzie, her pretty mouth dropping open in surprise. Ryan looked more confused than anything. But Claire’s displeasure radiated off her in palpable waves as she stared at Lizzie.
“This is your idea of work? This is yourjob?” Claire said, her voice a whisper. “Something so… so tasteless and tawdry?” Color rose on her cheeks. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes like someone had struck her. “You’ve always had so much potential, Elizabeth. Every door open to you. And this is the one you chose? Anerotic bakery? Why would you do this? Do you enjoy embarrassing us?”
“Mom—” Ryan said weakly.
“Lizzie is extremely hardworking and clever and deserves respect,” Rake said, his temper flaring. “Her work may be…unconventionalto you, but it’s hers and she’s happy and that should be enough.”
“Excuse me?” Claire said, looking at him as though she’d forgotten he was there. “That’s quite a declaration from someone she’ll likely grow bored of by next week. Who evenareyou to her?”
Lizzie stood, nearly knocking her chair over with the abruptness. She bolted from the room, the sound of her feet poundingup the stairs echoing around them. In a move that stunned them all, Ryan shot up, following behind her.
“I’m her goddamn partner,” Rake said, pushing back from the table and throwing his napkin on his plate. “And I’m really fucking proud of her.”
Rake walked out of the dining room, ready to mount the stairs when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he found Mary staring at him in earnest.
“Would you…” Mary drew in a deep breath, her eyes flicking up the stairs and back to Rake. “Would you let Ryan try? To talk to her, I mean. I know it’s probably not who she wants to talk to right now, but Ryan wants to at least try.”
Rake stared at her for a moment, his heart tugging him up the stairs, but the sincerity in Mary’s eyes convinced him to at least give Ryan a shot to be a good brother to Lizzie. He nodded.
Mary’s shoulders sagged at the gesture. “Thank you.”
They stood in awkward silence at the base of the steps, the gentle clink of silverware against dishes and phrases likeshe’ll never changeandI hope no one at the club hears about thisdrifting from the other room as her parents continued their dinner.
“He feels a lot of guilt, you know,” Mary said at last, her eyes roaming over the wall of photos dedicated to Ryan. School pictures and sports shots, graduations and marriage all frozen in perfect snapshots of what an outsider would think was a family of three. Ryan, Douglas, and Claire, smiling at the camera.
“Guilt for what?” Rake asked, not really caring. As far as he could tell, they’d all tried their damnedest to crush Lizzie down, and he couldn’t wait to get her back to the sanctuary of their apartment.
Mary shot him a knowing look. “He’s starting to realize how unfair it’s been. How differently they grew up. I don’t think he really understood it as a kid, but he sees it now and he’s trying to figure out how to change it.”