The Girl Who Chased the Moon: A Novel - By Sarah Addison Allen Page 0,13
down to have pizza with him and Stella before. “Thanks, but I can’t.” She took a step back to close the door.
He tilted his head at her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were embarrassed.”
That got her. “Embarrassed? By what?”
“By the fact that I now know you’ve been baking cakes for me.”
She snorted. “I never said I baked them for you. I said I baked them because of you.”
“So you did say it,” he said.
She met his eyes. Yes, she’d said it. And as much as she wished it weren’t true, it was. The one night they’d had together, they’d lain side by side on the high school football field, staring up at a starry night she’d never seen the likes of before or since, and he’d told her a story of how his mother used to bake cakes on summer afternoons and, no matter where he’d been, it had sent him to her, a beacon of powdered sugar flowing like pollen in the wind. He’d sensed it, he’d said. He’d seen it.
Cakes had the power to call. She’d learned that from him.
“Actually, what I think I said was I baked cakes because of people like you,” she finally said. “You’re my target customer, after all.”
He looked like he didn’t believe her. But he smiled anyway. “That’s a nice save.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes went over her shoulder. He’d never been in her apartment before, and she wasn’t going to ask him in now. Sawyer had grown up with money, and she hadn’t. But her things in Baltimore were nice—a little edgy, a little bohemian. That’s who she was now. Not this. She didn’t want him to see this. “It smells good up here,” he said. “I want to live in your kitchen.”
“There’s not enough room. And I only bake here on Thursdays.”
“I know. Stella told me when you first moved in. Why do you think I always come by on Thursdays?”
She’d never even suspected. He was that good. “I can’t come down, because I have company. You and Stella have fun.” She closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. After a moment, she realized that she hadn’t heard Sawyer walk back down. She turned her head and put her ear to the door. Was he still there? Finally there was a whisper of movement and she heard him walk away.
She pushed herself from the door and went back to the living room. “Sorry about that.”
“I can come back later if you’re busy,” Emily said.
“Don’t be silly.”
“So, everyone must have liked my mom, if she was so popular.”
Julia hesitated. But before she could speak, there was another knock at the door. “Excuse me again.”
“Who do you have up here?” Stella demanded when Julia opened the door. Stella had a wide, exotic face, with almond-shaped eyes and straight dark brows. She was wearing a kimono-style robe and her dark hair was pulled up into a bun. Some tendrils, still wet from her bath, were sticking to her neck. “Sawyer said you had company. Are you seeing someone? Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?”
“It’s none of your business,” she said because she knew it would drive Stella crazy. She still hadn’t forgiven her for telling Sawyer about the cakes. And Julia thought it was rich for Stella to demand to know if Julia was seeing someone, when Stella had slept with Sawyer three years ago and had never told her.
She closed the door, but as soon as she walked back into the living room, the knocking started again. Incessantly. Stella had a wild hair now. “She’s not going to stop until she meets you,” Julia said to Emily. “Do you mind?”
Emily seemed game, and followed her into the hallway.
As soon as Julia opened the door again, Stella said, “I’m not leaving until …” She stopped when Julia opened the door farther, revealing Emily standing beside her.
“This is Vance Shelby’s granddaughter,” Julia said. “Emily, this is Stella Ferris.”
Stella seemed incapable of speech.
“Emily came by wanting to know what her mother was like when she lived here.”
Stella recovered quickly. “Well, it’s so lovely to meet you, Emily! Sawyer and I were friends with your mother. Come downstairs and have pizza with us. I’ll pull out my yearbooks.”
When Stella stepped to the side, Emily didn’t hesitate and bounded down the stairs. With the elegant lines of her face and her tall, willowy body, it was easy to forget how young she was, until she did something like that.