ELENA
The bakery on Mercer Street was Isla's fault.
She had mentioned it three weeks ago — the lemon ricotta cake, Elena, you have to go, you will not recover.
Isla makes the best recommendations when it comes to food, so how could I not check it out?
I had been meaning to go since then and kept not going. Until this morning, I had woken up at seven with a really urgent craving for that cake.
I told Nicholas I was going to the gallery.
So I went there first, then to the bakery.
The bakery was small and warm and smelled like butter and citrus. It looks like the business is doing well.
A woman behind the counter smiled when I came in. I looked at the case.
The lemon ricotta cake sat on the second shelf. One slice left and that's all I need.
Perfect.
"I'll have that one," I
