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make you look a bit . . . common?”
    Everything inside seized up as if she’d slapped me. And in a way she had. My deepest fear was that she considered me too low class to fit into her world, and she’d just thrown it in my face. I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second, and the greasy food I’d wolfed down turned over in my stomach. “That’s your objection? That I’m going to embarrass you?”
    She waved a hand between us, seemingly oblivious to the wound she’d just inflicted. “It’s not me I’m worried about, sugar. But have you thought about what this will look like for Zydeco? We serve an exclusive clientele. You have to consider how your actions will look to them.”
    I choked out a laugh. “It’s nobody’s business what I do in my personal life.”
    Miss Frankie put one hand over mine. “Sugar, I’m not suggesting that you’d do something inappropriate. I know you better than that. But like it or not, appearances matter, especially to the kinds of people who buy our cakes. You just told me yourself that Zydeco’s already struggling to stay afloat. Now is not the time to take chances with our reputation.”
    I felt my hackles rise and my remaining misgivings about Old Dog Leg’s plan evaporate in a wave of irritation and stubbornness. “I’m not asking permission, Miss Frankie. I just wanted to keep you in the loop.” My face burned with anger as I turned back to the sink. I would have rinsed my dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, but Miss Frankie shooed me away and did the job herself.
    “I didn’t realize you and Gabriel were so serious,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
    “We’re not,” I said again. Was she even listening to me? “This isn’t about Gabriel or me. It’s about helping Old Dog Leg.”
    “And what about your policeman? What will he think of all this?”
    Guilt rolled through me, followed closely by anger and resentment. Did she really expect to have a say in my personal life? “I don’t know what he’ll think,” I snapped. “But that’s between Sullivan and me. You don’t need to worry about it.”
    Her face fell, and the hurt in her eyes brought me full circle to guilt again.
    “I see,” she said. “Well, then, I won’t worry any longer.”
    Two wrongs don’t make a right ,Aunt Yolanda whispered in my ear, and I barely resisted the urge to beat my head against the wall in frustration. It’s bad enough to disappoint one of the mother figures in my life, but both of them at the same time? Brutal.
    I took a calming breath and said, “I know you care about me, Miss Frankie. I know you’re concerned about Zydeco. But I need you to trust me. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize the bakery or its reputation.”
    We stared at each other for a moment while the coffee finished brewing. The gurgle of the coffeemaker scraped at my nerves, and the coffee’s earthy scent, usually one I find calming, made a dull ache form between my eyes. After a moment, she turned away and rinsed another plate.
    “This isn’t like you,” I said to the back of her head. “Is there something else bothering you?”
    She closed the dishwasher and latched it before she answered. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized. I’m sure to be dreadful company. You’ll forgive me if I turn in?”
    Confused, I turned toward the door, but I stopped there and asked, “Are we okay?”
    She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Absolutely. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing, sugar. Forget I said anything.”
    Uh-huh. As if that would be easy. “Let me see how things go when I get to the B and B tomorrow. Maybe I’ll be able to break away for a while on Saturday so we can meet with Ox.”
    “That would be lovely. You don’t mind letting yourself out, do you?”
    And with that, I was dismissed.
    I trudged out to the Mercedes and sat there for a long time replaying the conversation in my mind. And the disquiet I’d been feeling earlier grew a whole lot