Right Number, Wrong Girl

He raised his eyebrows. “You won’t be?”

“No. Camilla will be back in the next two days, then she’s coming right here and I’m going home. Nancy said she’ll deal with it.”

“Right. Nancy will deal with it.” He shook his head. “Nancy does nothing but defer to my mother. Whatever you think she’s going to do, it’ll be the opposite. It’s pretty clear you’re not correcting anyone on who you really are, so make sure your friend knows that she might have a storm to deal with when she gets here.”

A lump formed in my throat.

That was not good.

I also wasn’t about to tell Hugo that worried me.

“Cam will be able to deal with it. Plus, she’ll have proof that she did tell Nancy ahead of time. Not to mention that she’s rather more put together than I am.”

“No offense, but it seems like everyone might be.”

“There’s no need to be that rude to me,” I replied, looking over at him. “Thank you for the lift, however unnecessary.”

“Now who’s being rude?” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll open the bed and get the bike out, unless you need a hand getting out?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“I bet you thought that before you tried climbing in, too.”

“Oh, shut up.” I shoved open the door, ignoring his laughter. Thankfully, I made it out onto the ground with only a little “ooft” as my feet hit the stony road.

At least I didn’t fall this time.

Hugo took the bike out of the back and gently set it against the wall. “Ah, you made it out alive.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re a comedic genius?”

“A genius, yes. In other areas.” His eyes twinkled. “Not comedy.”

“Thank God,” I replied, ignoring his innuendo. “Then the people around you might have a sense of humour.”

He tugged his lips up to one side. “I’ll be passing by Kellie’s place. Do you need anything to be given to her for the cake?”

Who was Kellie?

“Who’s Kellie?”

He stilled. “She’s making the cake. Cait’s mum.”

“No,” I said slowly.

“Yes,” he replied, just as slowly.

I set the rucksack on the cab and opened it, pulling out the folder. I flipped through the pages until I found the cake one and pressed the tip of my nail against the bakery’s name. “That’s who I was told is doing the cake.”

Hugo leaned over, and his arm pressed against mine. I shoved the folder over a little so he wasn’t quite so up close and personal with me.

“No, Kellie always does it. She used to own the bakery before she retired to focus on cakes.”

“I… don’t have her name here.”

“Are you sure this is the right folder?”

I nodded. “The menus were correct and so were the flower choices. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the name Kellie before.”