Page 55 of Frosted Fakes

"Elliott doesn’t need to provide you with her CV," Julia said.

Both Elliott and Gabby turned to stare at her.

Julia's chin lifted. "She works for me. I’m the boss here, the only person she needs to report to is me."

Gabby's eyebrows rose. "You?"

"Yes." Julia's voice was firm in a way Elliott had never heard before. "Me."

Elliott couldn't breathe. Julia, who flinched at her mother's every word, who apologized for existing, who made herself small to avoid taking up space, that Julia was standing here defending Elliott like a mother bear one of her cubs.

Gabby's expression flickered. Surprise, maybe. Or reassessment.

"Well," she said after a moment. "That's certainly… one way of looking at things."

"It's true." Julia's arm tightened around Elliott's waist. "Elliott works for me."

The door chimed again. Jamie appeared, took one look at the scene, and immediately grasped the situation.

"Gabby!" His smile was warm and welcoming and absolutely calculated to defuse tension. "I was just opening up next door and thought I saw you through the window. Perfect timing, I've been wanting to show you the new tasting menu. Get your professional opinion."

Gabby's attention shifted like a weather vane catching a new wind. "A tasting menu?"

"Seven courses. Very experimental. I'd value your input." Jamie held the door open. "Shall we?"

"Well." Gabby smoothed her coat and graced him with a seductive smile. "I suppose I could spare an hour. For professional purposes." She turned back to Julia. "We'll continue this conversation later, darling."

"Of course, Mum."

Gabby swept out, Jamie shooting them a conspiratorial wink over his shoulder before the door closed behind them.

Silence.

Elliott realized she was still holding Julia. Still pressed against her side, arm around her waist, close enough to feel her blood pulsing through her veins. "You didn't have to do that," she said quietly.

"Do what?"

"Defend me. To her." Elliott pulled away, needing the distance to think clearly. "She's your mother. I know how hard it is for you to…"

"She was wrong." Julia's voice was simple. Certain. "You don’t owe her explanations. She’s just trying to make trouble."

Elliott's chest did something funny. Something that felt like walls cracking, like light getting in and touching places it wasn’t supposed to touch. "That's…" She cleared her throat. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Julia smiled, and it reached her eyes in a way that made Elliott's heart do inconvenient things. "Partners, remember? That's what we do."

The back door banged open, and Tara appeared, looking annoyed.

"So I was taking out the rubbish," she said, "and guess who I found poking around our bins?"

"Please don't say Candice," Julia groaned.

"Candice." Tara crossed her arms. "She was going through our recycling like she was looking for evidence. God knows what."

Elliott's jaw tightened. "What did she say?"

"That she was looking for her cat. Which is a lie, because everyone knows Candice doesn't have a cat. She has a small angry dog called Mr. Whiskers, which is a very stupid name for a dog."

"She's digging," Elliott said. "Looking for proof that something's off."