In the Details Page 2

And, admittedly, most people’s didn’t include Chris Riley. Not that she knew about, at least.

  In it, the two men were seated on either side of her at a table only a few yards from where she sat now. Each one was a little red in the nose and planted a kiss on Jessica’s cheek. Her face was scrunched up like a chipmunk, which she regretted immensely. If she were ever going to take a good selfie, this should have been the one. But as it was, she usually placed her thumb over her face when she stared at the picture, which she did more often than she would ever admit.

  “You think I should have a threesome?” she asked, slathering sarcasm over her words to disguise the burning hope. Chris would never go for it unless she had a signed order from someone like Wendy. Of course, with God’s overprotectiveness, it would have to be a non-penetrative threesome, which seemed okay all the same.

  “No,” Wendy said. “But I do believe stoking the flames of Team Jameson might be a quick and easy way to land you as a trending topic for a while.”

  Cash jumped in. “We would probably end up with multiple trending topics. Hashtag Team Jameson, hashtag Jessica Christ, maybe even hashtag Jessison. Or Jamica?” They shrugged. “We’ll have to see how it plays out. Celebrity couple names are best when they form organically.”

  Jessica cringed. A threesome was one thing, but being a trending topic with another man was just plain cyber-cheating.

  Jessica turned to her mother for backup, and Destinee shrugged. “I’d go with Jamica myself.”

  Okay, she was no help here. “You forget that I’m Team Chris all the way.”

  Cash put a hand over their heart. “Oh, that’s tragic.”

  Wendy cringed. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t go around saying that. The depressed ex thing is not going viral like it used to.”

  “Depressed ex thing?” Jessica paused, trying to get her feet under her. “Chris isn’t my ex. We’re still together.”

  Wendy and Cash caught each other’s eyes, then the publicist said, “Really? That’s still going on?”

  “Yes!” Jessica bristled. How dare they assume that just because Chris lived in Philadelphia now and had his own whirlwind life to attend to and the two of them almost never spoke in real life outside of a few daily texts that it meant their relationship was over. It wasn’t over! It was just long-distance. They still had plenty of time together in their dreams, anyway. And, now that Jesus wasn’t there to interrupt and Moses was back in retirement, their dream sex life had never been so … bountiful? Eh, that wasn’t quite the word.

  “I apologize,” said Wendy. “I don’t know why, but for some reason I was sure that whole thing was over. Well, hey, even better! The continued possibility of a Team Chris will only invigorate Team Jameson.”

  Jessica held up her hands. “No thanks. I’m out. I don’t have time for drama in my life.”

  “It’s not like you actually have to sleep with the guy, which is the first time I’ve ever had to reassure someone they won’t have to sleep with Jameson Fractal. Just be seen in public with him a few times. Chum the water. He’ll be in between projects in September, so you have a few months to think it over. In the meantime, we can find a way to get the rumor mill started, right Cash?”

  Cash nodded. “Just give me the word, Jessica. I beg of you. Give Team Jameson the room it needs to spread its wings and I will have your social media ranking flying into the stratosphere.” They clasped their hands together in a greedy prayer.

  “Sorry, but no. Chris isn’t going to like that.”

  “Give him a heads up,” said Wendy. “Let him know why the rumors will be flying around. Hell, I’ll call him myself.”

  Chris had always had a soft spot (or hard spot) for Wendy and her form-fitting A-line skirts. It was entirely possible the publicist could convince him this was a good idea via video chat, but Jessica still didn’t want to go there.

  And not because her relationship was holding on by a thread. No, of course not that.

  “Still no,” she said, watching as Cash rolled their eyes and Wendy’s jaw tightened. “We’ll find another way. Maybe something that involves the bakery. I know I’m going about everything the hard way, but I want to be known for something I created, not who created me. No offense, Mom.”

  Destinee pooched out her lips and waved it off. “Totally get it.”

  “I don’t,” Wendy said curtly. “But you’re technically my boss, so I guess I gotta roll with it. Just do me a favor, and before you reach total burnout and do that thing your generation does where you decide it’s time for a small lifestyle shift so you scorch literally everything you have, write long social media posts explaining why you’re leaving social media, and then move to Portland, give me a call and we’ll try the Team Jameson tactic.”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  Wendy checked her rose gold wristwatch. “One more thing before I head home. Have you heard from Jimmy Dean lately?”

  Ugh. This was about the ongoing law suit, wasn’t it? Initially, the idea of suing Jimmy for falsely claiming she’d written the foreword to his book felt like sweet revenge, but now it just meant the two of them were tied together in a new way.

  Meanwhile, the news had rediscovered its love affair with the reverend after he’d won the primary for Texas Railroad Commissioner. The tail of that was only just ending and now Jessica was asked to think about him again? “No. He’s left me alone. Guess he’s too busy rallying support for November.”

  Wendy crinkled her nose and chewed her bottom lip. “Jimmy would never be too busy to harass you, Jessica. He lives for it.”

  “It’s true,” said Destinee.

  Wendy continued. “Perhaps his lawyer has advised him against making contact with you until the suit is settled. But my educated guess is that he’s up to something.”

  “No shit,” Jessica said. “When has Jimmy ever not been up to something? Never, that’s when. So, while I know that him leaving me alone just means he’s going to show up on my doorstep with an extra helping of horseshit later on, I’m not going to let that ruin the fact that he’s leaving me alone. It’s called being present in the moment.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Cash. “But so you know, I’ve been keeping data on him—his resurgences in your life and their effect on your online mentions—and he’s well overdue for a disruption.” When Jessica narrowed her eyes at them, they said, “What? It’s just data science. Don’t look at me all skeptical when it’s you who can raise the dead.”

  Jessica leaned back in her chair, kicking out her legs, which was something she’d learned to do in a listicle called Ten Ways to Harness the Power of Manspreading that she’d read on her phone on the toilet the night before. “Here’s what I’m going to do: the same thing I’ve been doing. I’m going to keep working my ass off at this bakery because I want to do things the hard way for a while. Maybe I’ll change my mind later, but for now, I’m enjoying the grind. The next time I’m a trending topic, it’ll be alongside hashtag It is Risen or hashtag self-made, not hashtag Team Jameson or hashtag Jimmy Fucking Dean. That’s what I’m giving you to work with. If you two want to push some coverage of my bakery, I’d be all for it.”

  “Ooh,” Cash said dramatically. “Bakery exclusives? Internet, prepare to be broken!”

  Wendy bit back a smile. “Hear you loud and clear, Jessica.” She grabbed her clutch from the table. “We’ll be in touch whenever Jimmy Dean drops another bomb. Let us know if you change your mind.”

  “Will do.”

  Once they’d left, Destinee sighed loudly and pushed herself up to standing. She walked to the tray of the day’s remaining goods and made quick work of a cheese danish. “Think you’ll change your mind on this?”

  “Maybe,” Jessica replied. “Who knows? I’m not on any single path anymore. I’m in a field that spreads out in all directions, and I get to follow my whims.”

  She’d been piecing together that metaphor during dough prep in the mornings.

  Destinee licked her fingertips and shrugged. “Wh
atever you say, baby. Having that many decisions to make every step of the way sounds goddamn exhausting to me.”

  Chapter Two

  Judith brought a tray of freshly baked sugar cookies out from the back and set them on the checkout counter for Jessica.

  Was it already three pm? How had the time flown so quickly?

  “Shall I ring the bell, my lord?” Judith mumbled, arching a mocking brow.

  “Stop. You know I hate this as much as you do. Maybe even more.”

  Judith turned toward the bell, saying, “And yet, here we are.”

  Jessica reminded herself that having Judith on the team was a blessing. Her NAO sister had only been there a matter of a week since her college graduation and insisted that her English degree qualified her to work for minimum wage for the rest of her life. And because she had experience working with Jessica in the food trailer before it was burned to the ground, the former Nu Alpha Omega was perfect for the job.

  Destinee hadn’t complained about getting a few days off each week, either.

  The bell echoed through the cafe, and Jessica felt the eyes of the few post-lunch-rush patrons shift her way.

  When Wendy had first suggested this ritual should become part of It is Risen tradition, Jess had adamantly opposed. But then, Wendy did have a point. There was the brand to think of. Stoking Team Jameson flames went too far because it was focused only on Jessica’s personal life. This, though, while exploitative of Jessica’s unique position in the world, directly related to her bakery.

  So she’d agreed to try it once weeks before. It proved to be too big of a success to ignore, and after word traveled throughout the city that at three pm every day, you could go witness a miracle being performed at It is Risen, the crowds had made the decision for her.

  However, it appeared that even a miracle could lose its appeal after enough repetitions.

  How many were there today, seven? She did a quick headcount. Nine. Nine people watching her. Nine people sitting and watching her. Three weeks ago, it’d been standing room only, and now there were nine people sitting and watching.

  Oh, no, now there were only eight. One of them had turned back to her phone.

  Better get to it before anyone else loses interest.

  She closed her eyes, and summoned the miracle from deep within.

  Not that deep, though. This particular set of miracle muscles was toned from use. She didn’t need to close her eyes and focus anymore to draw forth her heavenly ability to turn any baked good gluten-free. She didn’t even need to focus to make sure the burned imprints of her face weren’t doing anything awkward like blinking or sneezing. It just came naturally, and when she performed this in the back without an audience, she could do it with her eyes open while scrolling through her secret Instagram, double-tapping her favorite wildlife photos.

  But out here, people wanted a show.

  Well, eight people—she cracked an eyelid—seven now, seven people wanted a show.

  The miracle pulled free of her without much resistance, and she opened her eyes and said, “Come and get ’em.”

  Three of the customers bothered to get up and grab their free miracle.

  “Nobody else?” she held up the tray. “Last call before they go in the case for sale.”

  The girl on her phone looked up. “What’s that?”

  “Free cookie,” Jessica said.

  The girl blinked a few times. “Oh, cool. I’m good, though.” She returned to her phone.

  Jessica smiled, grinding her molars as she did, and then carried the tray over to the display.

  Judith helped her transfer the cookies. “You can probably stop doing this.”

  “It’s a fucking miracle,” Jessica whispered. “How has the novelty already worn off?”

  “Don’t take it personally,” Judith said. “I’m sure you’ll discover a new miracle soon enough and it’ll be all the rage.”

  As Judith carried the empty tray into the back, a presence at the counter tugged at Jessica’s attention while she arranged the last few cookies so that her brand was clearly visible.

  She dusted the sugar granules from her hands and stood, intending to tell the customer she’d be there in just one minute. But then she saw who it was.

  “Mrs. Thomas?”

  Jessica’s former teacher and current business partner grinned back at her from in front of the register. “Did I miss the free cookies?”

  “Never. Should I grab you some free coffee to go with it?”

  “Ooh, yes please!”

  “Have a seat and I’ll bring it over.”

  Jessica carried out a small stack of sugar cookies and two coffees on a tray and set them out at the table in front of Mrs. Thomas. “I could use a coffee break myself. Caffeine and sugar. That’s the ticket.”

  “I agree,” said Mrs. Thomas. She nibbled a cookie and moaned her satisfaction. It seemed a little put on to Jessica, but she appreciated it all the same. “I’m so proud of what you’ve done here, Jessica.”

  For a moment, Jessica thought she’d gotten a bit of cookie caught in her throat. But nope, just a hunk of emotion and overwhelm. She attempted to swallow it without choking.

  “Thanks. That, um, that means a lot to me.”

  Don’t cry! Don’t cry!

  She didn’t understand why it mattered so much to have Mrs. Thomas’s approval, but it did. Maybe it was that the woman didn’t hand out praise she didn’t mean. Or maybe it was that Mrs. Thomas had invested so much money in the business that Jessica lived with a constant rattle of anxiety in the back of her mind that would be there until she could repay Mrs. Thomas. Or maybe she was overtired or hormonal or not as grown up as she pretended to be or …

  “I’m sure you’re wondering what brings me to Austin today,” said the teacher.

  Jessica nodded.

  “I’m here on a specific mission. I need to find a place to live.” She brought her coffee cup to her lips, grinning coyly.

  After the initial ludicrous question of Is she homeless? flitted its way through Jessica’s brain, she asked, “Seriously? You’re moving to Austin?”

  Mrs. Thomas nodded. “Yes. Just accepted a job here. Same school as Brian Foster, actually. Didn’t realize it at the time. I’m sure he won’t be too excited to see me. Never liked me. Don’t understand it.” She shrugged. “Part of being an assertive woman, I guess. Just rubs some men the wrong way. You’re learning that lately, I’m sure.” She winked.

  Jessica hadn’t comprehended the sheer weight of responsibility on her shoulders until Mrs. Thomas appeared and unintentionally lightened the burden by half. Doing things the hard way was fine. But if she confined herself to making sure she always did things the hard way, wasn’t she, in essence, turning her big open field of possibility into yet another narrow path? Her eye twitched. It was too much to think about until she had another cup of coffee. “I’ve always rubbed men, and women, the wrong way, so I don’t know that anything has changed.”

  “And how’s everything going lately?” Mrs. Thomas sipped her coffee. “I haven’t heard from you, so I assumed no news was good news.”

  “For the most part, yes. It’s, um, a lot more than I thought it would be.”

  “Ah.” Mrs. Thomas nodded slowly then nibbled more of her cookie before speaking. “You can ask for help, Jessica. You know I’m always here for you. Is it more money you need?” She smiled.

  “No, no. Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Chris and I discussed it, and he’s ready to pay back investors, starting with you. He can pay you in full next month.” Jessica had hoped it would come as good news, after all, consolidating her personal debt to a single man who loved her was something she’d looked forward to for months now.

  What she wanted more than anything in the world was financial independence for herself and the bakery, but she couldn’t get there all at once. Narrowing down her obligations was the first step. No more loan repayment, no more mortgage—she would be free and clear outsid
e of owing Chris. And deep down, she knew he would never accept repayment. And if they ended up getting married—a consideration they’d agreed to put on hold until they settled into their new careers—would it even matter?

  So, yes, she wanted to do things the hard way, but if an easy way presented itself and it didn’t put out anyone too much, she wouldn’t turn her nose up at it.

  But Mrs. Thomas’s smile faded, and the corners of her mouth stretched down into an apologetic cringe. “I hate to remind you of this, but the contract we both signed doesn’t allow for early repayment.”

  Jessica almost laughed, but controlled herself before she did. “What do you mean?” That was the most insane thing she’d ever heard. Who didn’t want their money back sooner?

  “It was at the bottom. It might seem silly, but I’ve had enough people try to empty their life savings to pay me back, so desperate to be debt free that they don’t think straight, and then some unexpected cost comes up—a health scare, a car breaks down—and they’re unable to handle it because they no longer have anything in savings. I usually only find out about it after the fact because they were too embarrassed to ask me for another loan, so they go and take one out with a bank or open a new credit card instead, which is much more costly in the long run thanks to compounding interest. Long story short, I now include it as a way to protect the borrower from a similar fate.”

  It made a strange kind of sense, the same way most of Mrs. Thomas’s altruism did. Years of being a teacher had clearly made the woman a pro at saving people from themselves.

  “Okay, but we’re not going to run out of money anytime soon. Chris signed a four-year contract, and what I owe you is only a tiny portion of one year of his salary.”

  “I understand that,” said Mrs. Thomas. She inspected Jessica thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side as a faraway look came into her eyes. “You haven’t actually read the contract yet, have you?”

  Jessica felt the heat rush through her neck to her face. She should have read it by now. Add it to the list of things she should have done but hadn’t yet. In her deepest bouts of overwhelm, the blood pulsing in her ears often sounded like should, should, should …