Chapter 149

"You really nailed it! Didn't expect you to be this good, Miss Harrington!" Paul looked surprised. Sure, stuff like this isn't hard to get in stores, but making it look this nice? That's rare. And Camila wasn't even a pro baker. Paul couldn't help thinking-when would Bella ever cook something for him? Honestly, even if Bella cooked up a plate of burnt charcoal, he'd wolf it down without a word, just because it was from her. Camila looked a little flustered by the praise, her lashes fluttering fast. Prescott noticed-he knew that look meant she was nervous. He walked over, took hold of the dessert cart from her hands, tilted his head and asked, "You made all this by yourself?" Camila nodded, palms slightly clenched. Why ask that? Was he doubting her? Then suddenly, he held her hand. Prescott glanced down, voice low, unreadable. "Don't make things like this again." Camila looked up, confused. "Why not?" Did he not like it? "It hurts me to see it." Prescott's lips pressed into a firm line