In the Details Page 3

  “Um. Did … did you ever send it? I don’t remember seeing it in my inbox.”

  Mrs. Thomas straightened. “Of course I sent it! I sent it the morning after your get-together here. Although I understand if you had a little too much fun that night with Chris and Jameson and it got lost in your inbox the next morning.”

  Jessica’s face was on fire. “No, it’s not like that with Jameson.”

  Mrs. Thomas shrugged. “It could be and that wouldn’t change the way I feel about you one bit. He’s a handsome young man.” She nibbled the cookie and said, “If it’s not financial help you need, what are you looking for?”

  Jessica dunked her sugar cookie into her coffee, swirling it around. “I dunno. Guidance?” She took a bite before it became too soggy. “Dr. Bell thinks I should hire more people to help me, but I’ve never been a boss before. You have.”

  A wide grin dawned on Mrs. Thomas’s face. “Dr. Bell. That’s your old business professor, right?” Jessica nodded. “She’s absolutely correct. And hiring people is a big step. I can see why you would feel nervous about it. Hiring is what makes or breaks a business.”

  Jess knew Mrs. Thomas would understand. “I don’t even know where to start. Where do I find people? Do I have to write job descriptions? What if I don’t know how to do a job myself? How do I interview? What don’t I know about discrimination laws? The list goes on.”

  Mrs. Thomas cleared her throat and cupped her hands around her mug on the table. “It is a lot, which is why some corporations hire someone to be in charge of hiring!” She chuckled. “And I imagine you’re overwhelmed with all the things you’ve already learned and are beginning to implement. My husband has always had a knack for hiring people for his campaigns and staff. I know plenty of good people you could hire. In fact, many would probably be thrilled to find a job outside of the amoral world of politics!”

  “I wish I could just make you my hiring manager,” Jess mumbled halfheartedly.

  “I would if I didn’t already have a job lined up in town. But how about this: you send me a list of things that need doing, and I can whip it up into a few separate positions you’ll need to fill. Then I can recommend candidates for each one.” She held up a hand to manage expectations. “Not forever. Just to get you started.”

  Once again, Jess felt like crying. “Thank you. And, you know, I would just hire whoever you told me to at this point. If you know someone’s the right person for the job, I trust your judgment more than I do mine. You can just give me their name and I’ll tell them they’re hired.”

  Mrs. Thomas chuckled. “Probably not the wisest approach in general, but seeing as how it’s me we’re talking about, and I do know you better than just about anyone, and, of course, I trust myself implicitly”—she winked—“I’m happy to go along with it. Especially if I can lighten the burden for you.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on Jessica’s forearm. “I hope this doesn’t come off the wrong way, but you look like you’ve been through it lately.”

  “Do I?”

  Mrs. Thomas nodded. “Yes. Dark circles under your eyes, and it looks like you’ve lost some weight in your face, which isn’t too unusual for someone entering their mid-twenties, but is of note for someone entering their mid-twenties who works at a bakery.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee as she continued inspecting Jessica closely. “I know you mentioned Chris a bit ago, but are the two of you doing okay? I just mean, is the relationship still serving you?”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Jess answered quickly.

  Rather than looking relieved, Mrs. Thomas’s round face shined with even more sympathy. “Long distance is hard, especially when you have so much on your plate in your present location. You can’t be two places at once, so to speak.”

  “We’re making it work. Some Chris is better than none.”

  Mrs. Thomas’s brows pinched together as a deep line appeared between them. “Jessica, dear, I wish you’d have a little more faith in your ability to make new friends and meet new lovers. I know you and Christopher go way back—I probably remember it better than you two, you were so young—but people change and drift apart, and that’s perfectly okay, even if it is a little sad. If Chris left you, it wouldn’t be the end, you understand that, right?”

  “Why would Chris leave me?” The notion was ridiculous. Chris might cheat on her, sure. Everyone gave into temptation now and again. She knew that from personal experience. But the thought of Chris leaving her, that had never crossed her mind. Could he leave her? He was an angel and drawn to her by nature. She supposed he broke up with her that one time in college, but that was as a result of her actions, and they’d mended it later on. And when things had fallen apart with Mason, Chris had shown up for her in a heartbeat. He had always been around.

  Leaving her?

  Leaving her?

  Like, what, just losing interest? Walking away? Pretending she didn’t exist anymore? Would she become “one of my exes” in his stories to other women?

  Mrs. Thomas brushed off the question with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m just saying, were something unexpected to happen, I hope that you understand you would be fine. You’re more resilient than you give yourself credit for. There are all kinds of men who would appreciate you for the bright, hardworking woman you are.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said honestly, still in a haze from the thought that Chris might someday leave her.

  “How about Miranda?” Mrs. Thomas said. “You two keep in touch much?”

  Talk about from bad to worse. Thinking about Miranda was even more painful than considering the possibility of Chris leaving her. Because Miranda actually had left her.

  “No, we haven’t talked since the party.”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Thomas breathed in between nibbles of her cookie. “What happened at the party?”

  How did she explain it? Did Mrs. Thomas know she herself was an angel? It might be unwise to broach that topic if the woman was unaware of her own situation.

  But how could Mrs. Thomas get this far and not know? As Dr. Bell had explained it, angels either realized and accepted that they were angels after a certain age or they went a little batty. Case in point: Jeremy Archer, Jessica’s across-the-hall neighbor and Jesus’s new roommate.

  Still, it seemed wise to work in broad terms. “Quentin hadn’t told her everything he should have, and she found out. And then she found out that Chris and I knew about it the whole time and didn’t tell her. She wasn’t happy. She left, dumped Quentin, and we haven’t heard from her since.”

  Mrs. Thomas tsked, and for a second, Jessica thought it was directed at her. “That’s too bad. I could see … Well, no, I shouldn’t say it.”

  “No, what is it?”

  Mrs. Thomas pressed her lips together on an inhale. “I never wanted to say anything, since the two of you were so close, but I’ve always felt like this is a long time coming. It’s not your fault,” she added hurriedly, “but it seems unlikely that her anger and resentment had anything to do with what happened at the party.” Mrs. Thomas clasped her hands together on the tabletop, staring vaguely down at them before continuing reluctantly. “When the two of you were together, even as young children, all eyes were on you. And again, it’s not your fault! But with you being who you are, she never could break through from being a very important person’s friend to a very important person, could she? She is incredibly talented at a variety of things, as you know, and I imagine playing second fiddle to you no matter how much she achieved … I believe her blow up was years in the making.” She sighed, shaking her head and staring at her coffee cup. “I’m sorry that happened. And I’m sorry I said nothing before to warn you it might. I have to watch myself, you know. I feel incredibly protective of you, always have, but you’re an adult now, and I can’t keep intervening when I see someone trying to hurt you.” She returned her attention to Jessica. “I can only imagine the abandonment makes everything harder. Starting a business is socia
lly isolating enough. To have your best friend and your boyfriend leave you ...”

  Jessica swallowed down the lump in her throat and dipped another cookie into her coffee, swirling it around. “Chris didn’t leave me.”

  “No, no. Of course not. I just mean he is in another state now, so physically, he’s gone. And Miranda will be leaving for grad school soon, if I’m not mistaken, so even if the two of you do make up … I imagine this is terribly difficult for you.”

  When Jessica pulled the cookie from her coffee, the bottom half fell off, oversaturated, into her cup.

  Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

  She gritted her teeth and held it together.

  “And I’m glad I came by today,” Mrs. Thomas added. “You don’t always let on when you need help, you know. But there are people like me who are here for you over the long haul, who aren’t going anywhere. You just have to let us know.”

  A man’s voice interrupted from behind her. “Um. Can I get some service over here?”

  She cast a glance back at the register, where a man in a red plaid shirt and skinny jeans raised his eyebrows at her curtly, like an invitation to fight.

  “Yeah, Judith will be with you in a second.”

  When she turned back around, Mrs. Thomas was finishing the last of her coffee, as she crouched, midway out of her chair before standing upright. “I need to get a move on. You take care of yourself, okay, Jessica? You have decades of life ahead of you. Can’t go burning yourself out yet.” She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair. “Email me the list of things you want someone else to do, and I’ll get to work right away on finding the right people for the job.” She hitched her fuchsia purse up over her shoulder and inhaled deeply, adding on the exhale. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Jessica had taken the hint and stood as well. “Thanks, Mrs. Thomas.”

  “Dolores, please.”

  Jessica nodded, but, nope, still couldn’t bring herself to use her first name.

  After a quick hug, Mrs. Thomas turned to leave, pausing on her way out to add, “No matter who leaves you. I’ll always be around.”

  Jess nodded, forcing a smile while fending off an incoming wave of fresh dread.

  Why was she upset? Chris was still with her. And Miranda might come around.

  Or maybe it was just the caffeine and carbs coursing through her digestive system providing a pop of hopeful optimism.

  Baked goods really were a miracle, gluten-free or not.

  Chapter Three

  Jessica stared into the cosmos as she lay on her back in bed.

  Not her real bed. Her dream bed. The one she shared nightly with Chris. Somehow, despite being concocted entirely from fantasy, the mattress on this one was never as comfortable as the memory foam one she actually slept on.

  She could feel Chris’s warm naked body next to hers, and though it didn’t inspire the feelings it used to, it was still nice and welcome.

  “I dunno,” she said, “what do you want to try?”

  “Umm …”

  Chris was drawing a blank tonight, too. So, she threw out the first suggestion that came to mind. “What about where one of us does a handstand? That was kind of cool.”

  He hesitated. “Do you want to do a handstand? Because I don’t want to do a handstand.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, me neither. This mattress is really comfortable.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Lady on top?”

  “Sure.”

  Damn. That meant she had to do all the work. How was she so tired in her dreams? Had the exhaustion really seeped into her this deeply?

  Lady on top was their go-to lately, and it was okay. It got a little boring unless they spiced up the surroundings a bit. So that’s what she did once they got going.

  “Are … we … in … The Dead … Sea?” Chris asked as Jessica went through the motions.

  “Is that the one with all the salt?”

  Chris nodded.

  “Yeah, that’s where we are.”

  “Can you … bring … back … the mattress?”

  “Sure.” The buoyancy of the water wasn’t as great as she’d imagine anyway.

  And now they were floating on a mattress in the Dead Sea, and Jessica procured mild amusement out of seeing just how high up and down she could make it bob.

  After a few minutes of refraining from asking him if he were close, she asked, “Are you close?”

  Before he could respond, verbally or otherwise, a timer went off. Wait a second, she recognized that sound …

  “Is that … the oven at … your bakery?” Chris asked.

  She cringed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  He pushed her gently off of him and raised onto his elbows. “Did you put me on a timer?”

  “What? No!”

  “How am I supposed to get off when I know I’m being timed? It’s not like I take longer than you. You have somewhere to be?”

  Two sparrows flew overhead, one chasing the other, both squawking. “No, of course not. Sorry. I guess I still have work on my mind.”

  Chris sighed, his expression softening. “It’s okay. Don’t stress about it.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “This is supposed to relieve stress, not create more.”

  “You’re right. Another try?”

  He nodded, grinning greedily. “How about gentleman on top?”

  “I think it’s called missionary, Chris.”

  “Let’s not bring religion into this, okay? We just got Jesus and Moses out of here.”

  While she was grateful for it, now that the threat of being caught was gone, so was some of the thrill. She’d never admit to that, though.

  Chris took over, and Jessica was glad to be able to enjoy the mattress for a while. This seemed a much better set-up for him, too, and the end of round one was well in sight when—

  Beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep.

  “Dammit!” Chris punched the pillow next to Jessica before grabbing it and biting it ferociously as he rolled off of her. He moaned and whimpered.

  “Sorry!” she exclaimed. She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at her writhing, frustrated boyfriend. “I’m not impatient, I swear!”

  Movement caught her eye just beyond the edge of the mattress on the other side of Chris, and for a moment she thought Jesus was hurling across the surface at her at full speed.

  Except Jesus couldn’t land a tackle like this guy.

  She was all limbs as she flew backward, tumbling off the mattress and into the salty sea. She surfaced and swam the short distance back to the mattress, blinking the water from her eyes. “Christopher Riley,” she growled, climbing back onto their sex raft. “I swear to whoever …”

  Chris’s expression was nothing short of horror. “I am so sorry, Jess. I guess my mind is stuck at work tonight, too.”

  “Yeah, I’d say.” She glanced behind her where the massive man in a white and blue jersey with the number 94 on the back doggy paddled into the distance.

  Chris added hesitantly, “You want to keep going, or—”

  “No,” she said, rubbing her banged up sternum and trying not to yell. “I’d say the mood is gone.”

  “At least he used good form. No helmet to helmet.”

  She glared at him. “Could that be because I don’t wear a helmet while we screw?”

  Chris bolted up into sitting. “You’re angry. I get that. Although to be fair, the oven timer disruption was all you.”

  “How about we put a pin in this for now and come back tomorrow with fresh ideas?”

  Chris looked around. “Yeah, the Dead Sea isn’t the most romantic.”

  “And we could both clearly use some deep sleep,” she added. “Busy day tomorrow.”

  He shot her a finger gun. “Good point.”

  After a quick kiss, Chris disappeared in a puff of powdery white, and Jessica, heaving a sigh, returned to a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Four

  The oven timer beeped, and Jessica pulled out
the tray of kosher pigs in a blanket. These things went quick around lunchtime, which was coming up in a few short minutes. She hurried to miracle her mug onto each of them, then carried them out to the front. The line was three people deep. “I’ll be right with you.”

  Destinee stood behind the display, chatting back and forth with a customer who pointed at various options with an overly serious expression. Just pick one. Why was it so hard? If you want another one, come back another time.

  SOMEBODY ROSE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TOMB.

  I’m fine. Just didn’t get great sleep last night.

  BECAUSE YOU AND CHRISTOPHER SPENT HOURS LYING TOGETHER?

  Not that. I mean we did. We just— Wait. No, I’m not talking about this with you.

  SHALL WE SPEAK OF SOMETHING ELSE?

  I already know you have something in mind. Just spit it out.

  TODAY IS AN IMPORTANT DAY FOR YOU.

  Why’s that?

  YOU’RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT.

  Did you just drop by to fill me with foreboding? Again?

  AND ONE PIECE OF ADVICE.

  Oh, you’re going to be helpful now! Is this God’s love people keep talking about?

  DO NOT LET HIM TOUCH YOU.

  What the— She scanned the room all around her. Are you kidding me? There isn’t a creepier thing to whisper to a woman. You understand that, right? Don’t let who touch me?

  JIMMY DEAN.

  Jimmy Dean?

  YES. JIMMY DEAN.

  When would he even have a chance to … oh for fuck’s sake.

  The door to It is Risen opened with a tinkle of the bell above it, and Jessica leaned her head back and groaned at the ceiling. “Not today,” she murmured. “Or any other day.”

  Even dressed down in a tight black T-shirt and aviator sunglasses, Jimmy just couldn’t let it go with the sleazy reverend thing. She saw through any attempt by him to go incognito, because if he’d actually wanted to, he should have left the red hog-hoof stole at home.

  The hooves dangled by his waist, clopping together every few steps as he slid into the bakery. He kept his sunglasses on.