Second Chance Lane by Nicola Marsh

Author:Nicola Marsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2020-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

23

Jane sulked for an hour after Mason left. She muttered under her breath like a crazy woman while she ladled leftovers into containers and stacked them in the fridge, calling him some not-so-nice names he thoroughly deserved for misjudging her. She then overloaded on sugar by cramming the mini chocolate croissants, apple strudel and plaited pastry dusted in cinnamon sugar into her mouth in quick succession. It didn’t help her mood. If anything, with every bite of the delicious flaky pastry, with every burst of perfectly stewed apple and cinnamon on her tongue, she cursed him a little more.

She’d never tasted anything like it. The guy could bake. The buttery, melt-in-the-mouth pastry, the rich, dark chocolate, the tartness of the apple perfectly combined with the sugar and spices … He created magic with an oven and a few ingredients. If she’d thought Betty was good, Mason was in a league of his own—if this was the kind of fare he intended on serving to the good folk of Brockenridge she’d be first in line every day.

But that might not happen now, courtesy of her witch of a mother, and Jane knew she wouldn’t sleep until she confronted Gladys.

With sugar making her blood fizz and her head spinning with the implications of why she cared so damn much what Mason Woodley thought of her, she drove ten minutes out of town to her childhood home.

After her father died, she’d expected Gladys to leave Brockenridge in favour of Melbourne or Sydney, to live her fake life in a glamorous city better suited to a phoney like her. She should’ve known better, because Gladys needed the adulation of those around her and it would’ve taken her too long to build up an audience of minions in a new city. Here, she could lord it over everyone: hosting the best book club; donating the most to local charities; opening her famed garden to the public to raise money for drought relief. Revered, adored Gladys Jefferson, a pillar of the Brockenridge community.

What a crock.

Jane pulled into the circular driveway of her old home with a spray of gravel, quashing the childish urge to do a few burnouts. The only thing stopping her was that it wouldn’t affect her mother anyway, she’d just get one of the staff to clean up the mess in the morning.

She’d barely parked and stepped from the car when the ornate front door opened. Anger made her shake as she stalked towards her mother, silhouetted in the doorway like some villain from a classic movie.

‘It’s awfully late for dropping in—’

‘Cut the crap, Mum. We need to talk.’

As Jane caught a glimpse of Gladys’s smug smirk, she knew this was her mother’s intention all along: to get her to come home, on her terms.

Jane stalked into the nearest room, a lavish library that housed floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves filled to capacity. She’d always considered this room her dad’s space because she’d often find him in here, behind the desk, poring over something on the computer.

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