Page 75 of Off the Grid
And she knew she wouldn’t.
McKenzie sighed and reached for the remote. The television sparked to life, a perfect distraction. She only needed to make it another hour or two before she left for work, and then the kitchen would be so busy she wouldn’t have time to think. Just one more hour—
Her phone buzzed.
McKenzie practically fell off her couch as she dove for the device and slid her thumb across the screen to read her message.
@Sprinkle-Ella: Is there a safe laxative I could slip into some cookies to give the paparazzi stationed outside my apartment? Not anything that would inflict permanent damage… Just enough for a few hours of peace?
@TheBakingBandit: OMG you’re diabolical…I love it!
@Sprinkle-Ella: Let’s just say it’s been a long couple of days ;)
Ain’t that the truth, McKenzie thought as she stared at the screen.And I didn’t even have it as bad as Addy.
Her friend’s story had gained nationwide popularity and was being covered by all the major media outlets. Compared to that experience, McKenzie’s welcome home had been relatively tame. Since Leo had gone missing as well, the Feds tried to keep the story under wraps. A local New York City news station covered her kidnapping, but without the FBI revealing the flashy headline-making details—like Russian mobsters, and her possible connection to the missing Degas, and her friendship with Jo and Addy, who’d both been all over the news—no national stations had bothered to pick it up. There were no paparazzi hunting her down, no reporters chasing her outside her home, no grainy photos of her posted online—thank God!
The most unusual thing that had happened since she’d come home was the big movie-style hug she and her mom had shared as soon as the helicopter landed in New York City. McKenzie had audibly gasped when she’d spotted her mother standing uncomfortably beside a row of agents, staring up at the helicopter as it made its descent. One of the Feds noticed her reaction and told her the whole story—how her mother had shown up at the office immediately after being told McKenzie had gone missing, how she’d demanded a spot to sit so she could get updates in real time, how she’d stayed in a hotel across the street for days, how she thought they were all miserable displays of human intelligence for not locating McKenzie sooner, and how she was happy there was at least one agent in the entire FBI who wasn’t a useless lout. Leo had smiled at that last part. Apparently, Elizabeth Harper had come to be known as the bane of their existence. The very idea had warmed McKenzie’s heart. For the first time in her life, she had that wonderful, elusive awareness of her mother’s love. She’d come into the city—shehatedthe city. She’d spent days around federal agents—shehatedfederal agents. She’d slept in a hotel all the way downtown—sheloatheddowntown. It all boiled down to one thing—she loved her daughter, and she’d been terrified of losing her.
As soon as McKenzie had set foot on land, she’d run for her mom, who flung open her arms, and they’d collided. About thirty seconds later, they remembered who they were. McKenzie pulled back and swallowed. Her mother told her she looked a fright and should come home with her to take a hot shower. But the love remained—the awareness that even if they didn’t always know how to show it, they felt it, and maybe in the end, that was more important.
@TheGourmetGoddess: I’ve got a better idea. Does your apartment building have a front lawn or garden?
@Sprinkle-Ella: Yes…
@TheGourmetGoddess: Ask the manager to turn all the sprinklers on next time they’re outside :) Goodbye cameras, hello privacy.
@TheBakingBandit: I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud!
@TheBakingBandit: Oh, I’ve got it. If you give me some time, I might be able to hack into the town mainframe and override the system to turn all the sprinklers in town on, so they’d have nowhere to run. There’s a public park across from your bakery, right? There’s got to be a central database with a timed watering schedule… One sec.
@TheGourmetGoddess: Jo?
@TheBakingBandit: Yeah?
@TheGourmetGoddess: Dial it back.
@TheBakingBandit: Right.
@Sprinkle-Ella: Wow. I’m really happy I’m not on either of your bad sides. You might have something with that sprinkler idea though!
@Sprinkle-Ella: McKenzie’s sprinkler-thing, not Jo’s…
@Sprinkle-Ella: I’ve had enough run-ins with the law to last me a lifetime.
@TheGourmetGoddess: By that you mean none?
@Sprinkle-Ella: Exactly.
@TheBakingBandit: Good job, team!
McKenzie shook her head as she stared at the screen, remembering the realization she’d had back at the wedding—that the three of them worked well together, and could maybeworkwell together. Of course, at the time she’d been thinking of baking and not subterfuge, but same thing. They balanced each other out. Addy was a little too safe, Jo was a little too wild, and McKenzie sat right in the middle. Jo was all creativity, McKenzie was all precision, and Addy had a little bit of both. McKenzie was tough, Addy was sweet, and Jo was that little bit of spice every good recipe required. They fit. McKenzie picked up her phone and let her thumbs hover over the keyboard.
Guys. I had this wild, crazy, totally ridiculous idea while I was stuck in the middle of nowhere baking a wedding cake with a gaggle of drunk bridesmaids—we should go into business together.
She put her phone down without typing anything, the same way she had yesterday and the day before, the same way she probably would continue to do tomorrow and the day after. Because it was crazy—right?
McKenzie had just been promoted to head pastry chef. Why would she give that up to run a bakery, especially after the head chef had been so understanding? When he found out she’d been kidnapped, he didn’t give the job to someone else. The restaurant brought in a temp and held the position for her until she came home. He was a great boss who wanted her to succeed. Besides, Addy lived down in South Carolina. Why would she ever want to move up north? And Jo…well, Jo would love it. And Addy too. Working with her two best friends would be so much more entertaining, so much more rewarding, than the cutthroat restaurant world could ever be. The kitchen would come alive again. Maybe she would too—which was precisely why McKenzie was so afraid to say the words out loud, to put them into the world.
