Chapter 4: The Honey Brown

For a second, Jillian's smile slipped.

Then it came back twice as wide.

"Oh my God," she said to the phone. "You guys. You will not believe who works here."

She walked right past the line to the counter.

People shuffled aside to let the dog through.

"Annie!" she said. "Is this where you've been sneaking off to?"

"I just got here."

"With an apron on?" She pointed the phone at the hook behind me. "That's adorable."

Twenty people were watching us.

A man in a Cubs cap held his coffee halfway to his mouth.

Two college girls at the window table had stopped talking.

"Everyone, this is Annabel," Jillian told her phone. "She's Langston's wife. On paper."

Somebody near the door laughed, then stopped.

"She's very sweet," Jillian went on. "She likes to cook. She used to make these huge dinners nobody asked for."

My face went hot.

"Jillian," I said. "Turn it off."

"Why? I'm being nice." She turned back to her screen.

"I think it's great that she's found a little hobby. The house is so big. It must get lonely."

Wesley came out of the kitchen behind me.

He didn't say anything yet.

He stood at my shoulder with his arms folded.

Jillian tapped the glass case with one pink nail.

"Anyway. I'll take a dozen of the honey ones. Langston found them for me. They're my favorite thing in Chicago."

The counter girl reached for a box.

I put my hand on the case.

"That's my recipe," I said.

Jillian laughed.

"Okay, Annie."

"I created that cupcake. On a Sunday in this kitchen, six years ago."

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