idn't ask

ttering beneath awnings. Inside Brick & Basil, the storm played percussion on the windows while Riley prepped

e in twenty minutes. She was too deep in a new crust experiment-rye with

ver the do

Ar

aightened

as J

smirk that hadn't evolved sin

the counter like

I'd drop by

d. "Didn't realize you

the fun

't hav

he oven. "I'm asking if you've forgotten who

hard. "You don't

built half this

a wall and borr

you ideas,

ed. "And to

s a long

id, voice quieter. "Shinier.

idn't r

hing on the coun

r early pies. Your first pop-up menu. I'm pitchin

t. The storm outs

out a

expo

d exposure.

ur investment princess-is going to rid

not tem

ithout humor

id it back across the counter. "I don

k slipped. "

afraid

a soaked coat and a pastry box that

n't menti

ight

coming community demo, and shared cinnamon

ergy wavered.

a not

iet," she

nds on her apron.

oze for a fraction of

did he

. Wants to use footag

t permi

y no

nd set her mug

ang

he didn

hinks I owe h

s the prep counter,

don

kno

he rain still tapping it

, "Do you want m

ed. "No. I want t

oth la

eased-but di

walk-in fridge when she overheard a c

xo

the jazz trio's

ow," Jaxon said. "I ju

"Seems like sh

just erase history. You

hind the shelf

t just s

s cir

Riley told Ari

what she always

Ariana said. "We need to pro

name in his mouth

cut the

ic statement-profes

purposed without consent. My story is mine,

publi

atched

nally

on wasn

iny clips of Riley at age 23, laughing over an experimental fig pie, flipping flour into the air like conf

felt

ng joyful and twis

d out of

subway

ide her grandmothe

he knocked o

ans

sil

memo

found h

sat down beside her, co

ike seasoning," A

younger me," R

shadow because you s

es. "I don't want

. You're a

Ariana. "I'm sca

d it's hur

zes fixed on the diner'

her forehead to

ome," s

they

erased the old mood boar

girl I used to be-and

of her 23-year-old self with fig-s

e: her and Ariana, a

de a n

ta. Mint.

led it

d out