On the sidewalk, a dark-haired reporter smoothed her blouse down, adjusted her wireless microphone and spoke to the cameraman as if Nichole and Chase’s marriage required live coverage. A hysterical laugh crawled into Nichole’s throat. Nonna hadn’t exaggerated about the press.
Forty-five minutes ago, Chase had tried to drop Nichole off after they’d set the last tray of gnocchi in Nonna’s freezer. Nichole and Chase had surveyed the news crews gathered around her house, then decided to take Nonna’s advice and leave that afternoon for their so-called ski-moon. Worried Chase’s truck would be identified, Nichole had gotten out two blocks from her house and sneaked into her backyard through a forgotten side gate. She’d crammed clothes in a suitcase and waited on her backup.
Brooke and Dan had finally arrived. Nichole picked up her suitcase, scanned her backyard for lurking reporters and raced to the side gate. Thankful for once she hadn’t had the funds or inclination to tackle her overgrown backyard. She tugged ivy and weeds out of her face and squeezed through the rusted gate into an alley wide enough for skateboarders to ride in single file.
Two blocks later, she spotted Dan’s truck, opened the back door and climbed onto the back seat. “I owe you guys.”
Dan started his truck and frowned. “I still don’t know why I couldn’t have parked in Nichole’s driveway and yelled ‘no comment,’ then ‘go away.’”
“That would’ve incited the reporters.” Brooke shifted in her seat and touched Dan’s knee. “And that’s not the low profile that Chase and Nichole want to maintain right now.”
“That’s why you’re meeting me in an alley blocks away from my house.” The truck rolled away from the curb. Nichole scooted lower on the bench seat. “So, we can get out of the city without the press knowing.”
“So, you really are married to Chase Jacobs.” Dan looked at Nichole in the rearview mirror.
She held Dan’s gaze, refusing to blink and forcing herself to nod. Was it less of a lie without words spoken?
Brooke supplied the words for her. “Of course, she is married to Chase.”
“The news gets it wrong sometimes.” Dan let the truck idle at a stop sign and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as if debating which direction to turn. They’d arranged to meet Chase at a grocery store on the way out of the city, then Brooke and Dan would pick up Ben and Wesley from school.
“But best friends don’t get it wrong,” Brooke argued. Certainty and complete faith thickened her tone. “Nichole knows if she got married or not.”
Nichole knew alright. But Brooke’s loyalty deflated her. Nichole was the worst type of friend. Her mounting guilt pressed her into a slouch against the bench seat.
Worse, she’d lost track of time inside Nonna’s place this afternoon, working beside Chase. Lost a bit of herself after she’d kissed Chase’s cheek. After Chase had offered to reveal the truth and accept the full blame to protect her. He’d even vowed to ensure In A Pinch sold. But Nichole had given her word too. They hadn’t made a one-sided deal. So, the ruse continued.
“Besides, no one gets a ring like that for no reason.” Brooke peered over the seat at Nichole’s hand.
There was a reason: to bolster the farce. The diamonds captured the daylight and the deception, splintering it across the seat in a brilliant display of sparkles. There was nothing flawed about the ring, only Nichole’s continuous dishonesty. Would her friends ever forgive her? Would she ever forgive herself? A chill swept through her. She rubbed her cold palm against her leg.
“And Nichole cooked with Chase and his grandmother earlier today.” Brooke grabbed Dan’s hand and laced their fingers together.
Their connection was effortless. Sincere. So very genuine. Once Nichole sold In A Pinch, she’d have something real too. Nichole glanced out the window, away from diamonds that hugged her finger as if custom-made for her and vintage wishes.
“That is a big thing.” Dan nodded and slanted a soft smile at Brooke.
“It’s no big deal really.” But Nonna had wanted to meet her first great-grandson. That was a big deal. Now Wesley had a supposed stepdad and another very interested great-grandmother. That chill burrowed into her bones. But the time for cold feet had long since passed. Now Nichole worried only regret waited at the end of the aisle.
Dan shook his head. “Cooking with family matters.”
“Wait.” Nichole straightened and leaned forward. “You were skeptical of the marriage until Brooke told you that I cooked with Chase and his grandmother. How does that work?”
“Chase Jacobs is protective of his family. He’s admitted it in interviews.” Dan shrugged. “He’d do anything for them. A guy like that doesn’t just invite anyone into his home to meet his family.”
“We’ve known each other since high school.” You were the only girl I ever invited home. Nichole tugged on her sweater, pulling the too tight collar away from her neck. Still, she struggled to swallow around the lump lodged in her throat. “It’s different.”
“If you say so,” Dan said.
She’d said it, but she knew the truth. She’d skewed their business arrangement into something more personal. Trespassed across family boundaries that should’ve remained intact. She never should’ve put on that apron. Or kissed Chase. She never should’ve started any of this.
Chase had moved around Nonna’s kitchen as if he’d always belonged. As if cracking eggs into flour mounds on the table came as naturally as throwing a thirty-five-yard pass downfield. From Nonna’s approving squeezes on her grandson’s arm to Chase’s awareness of his grandmother and her tired hands, the blend of love and joy had elevated the morning into an experience.
Nichole had wanted to linger until she’d figured out the recipe and the right combination to belong. But Nichole was frozen pizza, takeout and microwave savvy. Chase was fresh herbs, gourmet and five-star polished.
Brooke leaned forward in her seat and pointed out the window at a navy sedan driving in the opposite direction. “I think
