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Authors: Ellery Adams

BOOK: Pies and Prejudice
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“I thought I smelled something amazing.” Hugh smiled at her and waited for her to speak again, but she couldn’t. Her tongue had gone flaccid, like a deflated birthday balloon.

The awkward silence stretched between them until the man finally gave an apologetic shrug, turned, and headed out the way he’d come.

Ella Mae didn’t want him to leave, but she was angry with herself for falling to pieces over her girlhood crush only days after her husband had made a colossal fool of her.

Sissy appeared behind her niece before Hugh had the chance to vanish through the door at the opposite end of the hall. “Thank you!” she called.

He pivoted and gave Sissy a friendly wave, but his hand froze in the air as his glance slid to Ella Mae. He locked eyes with her, bowed briefly from the waist, and then walked off.

“My, my!” Sissy cooed. “Maybe there
was
a fire here today after all.”

Ella Mae shook her head, but inside, she was reeling.
Hugh Dylan. The last time we met he was dating Loralyn and I lost my bikini top in the swimming hole. Hugh, my first crush.

The merman who had coaxed her blood into a slow boil.

Swallowing to cover up her embarrassment, she said, “I think Loralyn Gaynor pulled the alarm. She was probably hoping to ruin your open house but showed up too late.”

“Typical. The Gaynors are many things, but punctual has never been one of them.” Laughing, Sissy took Ella Mae’s elbow and the two women strolled through the halls to the front door. “That family has hated us for three centuries, but the rivalry sure keeps things lively around here.”

“Who’s her fiancé? Do you know?”

Sissy shrugged. “I didn’t realize she’d hooked another one so soon, but you can be certain that he’s older and richer than Loralyn. That girl’s a walking cliché.” Sissy shook her head in disdain and then pointed an authoritative index finger at her niece. “You just keep your distance, Ella Mae. You’ve got enough on your plate without messing with the likes of Loralyn Gaynor.”

Ella Mae said nothing. Despite Sissy’s warning, she felt inexplicably driven to discover the identity of Loralyn’s next husband.

They collected their purses and headed outside into the stifling heat. “Before you go clothes shopping, I want to show you something,” Sissy stated enigmatically. “Can you spare me
half
an hour?”

“Sure,” Ella Mae agreed. “My calendar is pretty blank at this point.”

They got into Sissy’s car, which had been baking in the direct sun all day long. The moment Sissy picked up speed on the road leading into town, Ella Mae put her window down. Holding her hand out against the rush of air, she mulled over her financial situation. Both her credit cards and bank accounts bore Sloan’s name. She could max out her credit card and withdraw as much cash as she needed for now, but eventually, the money would run out. Ella Mae needed to see a lawyer about her financial rights, but she suspected it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to get a job, and the closest bakery was an hour away.

Maybe one of the area restaurants could use a pastry chef,
she thought but then remembered she hadn’t received her degree from culinary school. A sigh escaped from between her lips and was swept deeper into the car’s cabin by the slap of incoming air.

“Your wheels are
spinning
,” Sissy said and glanced over at her niece. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing pleasant. First of all, I need a lawyer. I want to get divorced as soon as I can. And I’ve got to get a job and train Chewy. He’s still just a puppy and I haven’t spent enough time with him. I think he only chews things to get attention.” Ella Mae pushed a strand of hair from her face and closed the window.

Sissy slowed as they turned onto Emperor Street and began to search for a parking spot. Havenwood was busy most weekends, but during the summer it was packed with tourists. They filled the resort overlooking the lake’s western shore, went hiking in the mountains, and patronized area shops. Today was no exception and Sissy had to circle the block between Fritillary and Swallowtail Avenue three times before she found a spot.

Gesturing for Ella Mae to follow, Sissy walked briskly through knots of strolling vacationers and made a right onto
Swallowtail Avenue. She stopped in front of a small cottage-style house that had been turned into a high-end children’s boutique and teashop. A wooden plaque above the front door read The Mad Hatter and featured the eccentric haberdasher from
Alice in Wonderland
. According to the laminated menu taped over one of the panes, the teashop was open only for the use of little girls’ parties, and the cost of each finger sandwich was as inflated as the Mad Hatter’s oversized head. Apparently, the locals had also found the prices too steep, for the shop had gone out of business. A sign from the nearby real estate office now hung in the middle of the large display window.

Ella Mae admired the shaded front porch and the tiny garden area dividing the small house from the brick building next door. The annuals planted in the flowerbeds had died from lack of water, but a robust climbing rose had worked its way up the gutter and spread itself along the roofline, creating a riot of hot pink blossoms that popped against the dark gray shingles.

“Cute, isn’t it?” Sissy asked.

“Definitely.” Ella Mae stared at the façade. “I’d paint it butter yellow with a pink raspberry door. Put a few café tables on the front porch and patio, and plant a matching rose vine on the other corner of the building. It could be really great.”

Sissy seemed to be distracted by a blur of movement inside the vacant shop. Then, she smiled. “A really great
what
?”

Ella Mae shrugged. “I dunno. A coffee shop or a bakery.”

“How about a pie shop?” Sissy suggested. “With a counter along that wall and pies for sale in a display case on the opposite side. Folks could have coffee and pie for breakfast, lunch,
and
dessert. You learned how to make savory pies, right?”

After reciting the names of some of her favorites, Ella Mae peered through the window again and was surprised
to see Verena and Dee emerging from the store’s back room. Grinning, Verena opened the front door and beckoned her in.

“What are you all up to?” Ella Mae asked upon entering.

Her aunts pasted on innocent expressions but said nothing. Ella Mae spun around slowly, imagining a chalkboard with daily specials, a Formica counter where patrons could linger over a slice of pie and a cup of coffee, small café tables inside and out, and a rotating display in the front window featuring the pies, tarts, quiches, and cobblers of the day.

“It’s a nice fantasy,” she said aloud. “But I don’t have that kind of money.”

Verena took a checkbook from her purse. “We’re not exactly on par with Donald Trump, but if you take the four of us on as silent partners, we’ll see a profit on our initial investment within a year. Any other objections?”

Ella Mae looked surprised. “Four? My mother knows about this?”

Dee held out a newspaper and said, “She showed us the ad.”

“We’ll have to act fast!” Verena bellowed. “This is prime retail space and I’ve heard that Loralyn Gaynor has asked her fiancé to buy it for her as an engagement gift. She wants to open her third nail salon but it’s—”

“Your decision,” Dee interjected softly. “You’re the only one who can determine whether you’re home for good or if you want to work things out with Sloan.”

“The only thing I want to work on when it comes to my marriage is how fast I can get out of it!” Ella Mae declared hotly. “Come Monday morning, I want to be sitting in a lawyer’s office planning my future as Ella Mae LeFaye. As of this moment, I’m ditching the name Kitteridge for good.”

As Ella Mae spoke these words, the roses growing on the cottage opened their cups wider, releasing their sweet, heady fragrance into the air. Even the tight, young buds unfurled, stretching their blush-colored arms outward.
Dozens of monarch butterflies responded to the call of their scent, flitting around the vines in a flurry of black and orange.

The three LeFaye sisters exchanged satisfied smiles and then opened their arms to accept a grateful hug from their niece.

As the butterflies swarmed over the blooming roses, Ella Mae studied the reflection she saw in the glass of the display window. There was Aunt Dee with her long braid of auburn hair and denim overalls, Aunt Verena in a white dress with black polka dots and a pair of chartreuse pumps, and Sissy, who had the same whiskey brown curls as Ella Mae, but wore her hair cropped to the base of her neck. And then, on the other side of the glass, was her mother, her black hair billowing around her shoulders, her hazel eyes raised to the rooftop.

Ella Mae stepped outside and stood silently next to her mother.

“What do you think of the name, The Charmed Pie Shoppe?” she eventually asked, spelling out the last word.

Adelaide reached her left hand upward and a single rose petal floated into her palm. She handed the pink petal to her daughter. It smelled of spun sugar and the promise of things to come. “I think it’s perfect, Ella Mae.”

Chapter 4

Ella Mae woke at five thirty-three on Monday morning to the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the glass-topped nightstand. The moment she was yanked from a dream in which her child self was about to jump from a tire swing into a muddy puddle, the phone fell silent. Seconds later, it began buzzing violently again, skidding into the brass lamp base until Ella Mae scooped it up and examined the caller’s number.

Sloan.

He’d left her a series of text messages overnight beginning with, “I know I screwed up, but where are you? Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not okay!” Ella Mae hissed at the phone and then scrolled down the list. Sloan had texted her every few hours, begging her to respond to his concerns for her safety.

Chewy stirred at the foot of the bed, his paws twitching as he ran in his sleep. Ella Mae put a hand on his head, pausing to enjoy the warmth of his fur beneath her palm,
and then got out of bed and walked over to the window. The sun was climbing over the horizon, breathing orange and pink into the eastern sky. Ella Mae watched as the light chased shadows from the garden and painted her reflection with a golden glow.

She smiled. Today was a day for changes. Aunt Verena planned to be at the real estate office at nine sharp to put in an offer on what Ella Mae hoped would become her very own pie shop. In the rose hue of dawn, it was easy to envision a brand-new life in Havenwood. A rich life. At that moment, it was possible to believe that she could fulfill her dream of running her own business, that people would come from all over Georgia to sample her pies.

Fully awake now, Ella Mae dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and tiptoed downstairs, a groggy terrier at her heels. The pair crept out the back door and walked down the long, sloping lawn toward the lake.

The dew-covered grass felt glorious beneath Ella Mae’s bare feet. It had been years since she’d followed the path, but the feel of the cool flagstones under her toes and the sound of crickets and croaking frogs greeted her. The lake was diamond studded, and Ella Mae swept her gaze toward the east where the luxury hotel and spa stood atop a formidable hill like a medieval castle. Straight ahead, the homes of Havenwood’s wealthiest families huddled together on the pricey parcels of land overlooking Lake Havenwood. The largest houses were at the bottom of the verdant hills and featured private docks and furnished boathouses bigger than Ella Mae’s entire Manhattan apartment.

To the west was the business district, where Ella Mae hoped to soon join the ranks of the hard-working men and women who got up early each morning to unlock doors, switch on lights, and sweep sidewalks clean. She could already picture herself in her favorite cherry-print apron, watering urns filled with bright annuals as bluegrass music danced through the speakers mounted above the cash
register. Pies and quiches would be baking in the double ovens, and the smell of buttery dough would be carried on the breeze to her fellow shopkeepers, causing them to lift their noses in anticipation.

“I’ll start with breakfast and lunch service,” she told Chewy, who was focused on a pair of mallards floating past the far edge of the neighbor’s dock. “If things take off, I’ll do some catering. Ladies’ luncheons, wedding desserts, family dinners.”

Hearing a familiar word, Chewy looked around, clearly hoping that his food bowl would suddenly appear nearby.

“I have so much to do! I’ll have to design the layout, make a list of equipment, drive to the closest restaurant supplier, create a menu—”

Her list was interrupted by the buzz of her cell phone, which she’d absently slipped into the back pocket of her shorts. She read Sloan’s latest text message. “Sweetheart, come home. Let’s talk.”

Ella Mae frowned. Sloan called her sweetheart only when he’d done something to upset her.

She sighed. As much as she wanted to, it was impossible for her to simply stop loving her husband. She couldn’t just turn off her feelings by pressing an invisible button. Yet she knew that going back to her life in New York was out of the question. The door to the past had closed with the resounding thud of a bank vault. One day, she might be able to forgive Sloan for hurting her so deeply, but how could she ever trust him again?

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