When Mr. Jordan stopped by my bakery, it was to offer me a deal I couldn’t refuse. A partnership, if you will. It turns out, their dessert selection wasn’t selling, so Mr. and Mrs. Jordan thought it would be great if I provided the desserts for their restaurant, and in return, they promote my business with signage and mentions. After all, word of mouth is the best form of advertisement, right? It’s my first weekend as their exclusive dessert provider, and it’s a big one.
Valentine’s Day weekend.
“Lyndee, these are amazing,” Mr. Jordan announces, glancing inside one of the boxes. “The perfect dessert for two.”
I smile proudly. “Thank you. I hope they’re a success for you.”
“And for you,” he replies, closing the lid on the box. “We have you listed prominently on the menu as the dessert provider for the weekend. Plus, every time one of the servers offers the dessert, your name will be mentioned.”
“I appreciate this. Thank you,” I state again.
“No, thank you. I think this partnership is only a small step for you. Plus, that big write-up in the paper won’t hurt either,” he adds with a chuckle.
“Write-up?” I ask, confused as to what he’s talking about. That letter to the editor was weeks ago, but I definitely don’t see it as helpful.
He looks at me with surprise in his eyes. “You don’t know? The newspaper printed a retraction today.”
“What?” I ask, my chin practically unhinging from my jaw.
He turns around and grabs a newspaper from a table along the back wall and hands it to me. There, on the front page, is my business name and a photograph of my front window. The headline reads, “Sugar Rush is Here to Stay. Local Business Owner Apologizes for Letter.”
I skim the article, only to stop and reread the entire thing a little more slowly the second time. It’s a retraction, written by Jasper Kohlmann. He talks about how amazing the pastries are and explains why he said the things he did. When I get to the end, my heart feels like it’s trying to claw out of my chest.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, glancing up and trying to wrap my hands around what I just read.
“Right? I didn’t know you and Jasper knew each other.”
“We went to school together,” I mumble, even though he already knows that, since he read the article.
“I just hope we can still work together, even after you get bigger,” he says with a chuckle.
“What?”
“Well, this is going to do wonders for your business, and I’m sure you’ll eventually get so big you won’t have time to make desserts for my little ol’ restaurant anymore.”
I reach over and squeeze his arm affectionately. “Not going to happen. You took a chance on me when everyone else was running the other way. You helped save my business, Mr. Jordan. You and your wife will have desserts for as long as you need them.”
He smiles softly and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, Lyndee. I’m happy to do business with you.”
“Likewise.”
After a few more minutes of chitchatting, I head back out to my car and drive to the bakery. When I turn down the block, I’m shocked to see people. Tons of people, lining the sidewalks, coming and going from my business. I quickly pull around back and run inside.
“Thank God you’re here,” Dana bellows. “All of a sudden, this place just got crazy. We’re almost out of pastries!”
I glance up front and find every table full and a line from the counter to the door. Daisy and Dustin are up there, filling white paper bags with treats and paper cups with coffee. I grab the tray of scones and muffins I had already prepared for tomorrow and take them up front.
By the time we close at two, there isn’t a treat left in the shop.
I flip the closed sign and drop into the first chair I come to. “Holy shit,” I mutter, still trying to process what just happened.
“I don’t want to complain, but what the hell was that?” Dustin asks, transferring himself into the extra wheelchair we keep in back.
I laugh and grab the newspaper sitting on the counter. I don’t have to open it, just hand him the paper with the front page on display. “This happened.”
Dana and Daisy lean over Dustin’s shoulder and read the article. I catch their gasps of disbelief, and their eyes wide with astonishment. “Holy crap!” Daisy proclaims.
I sit back down, my legs tired, and glance across the street, still trying to wrap my head around what I’ve read.
What he did.
For me.
“What does this mean?” I ask to no one in particular.
“You mean his very public apology? The fact that he not only admitted he was wrong, but that he made it up?”
“Yeah. That.”
Dana starts to laugh. “It means he loves you.”
Tears cloud my eyes as I look back out the window. The door opens and a young couple walks out, his arm thrown over her shoulder as he guides her down the sidewalk. I can’t help but feel envious of them. Of their public display of affection. Of the way he seems to shield her from the cold breeze behind his coat.
“What do you need?” Daisy asks, setting a cup of tea in front of me.
“Nothing. You guys all have plans tonight,” I remind them. Dustin and Dana are having dinner to celebrate Valentine’s Day tonight, since Mallory and Walker’s wedding is tomorrow night, and Daisy is going out with girlfriends. “I have some work to do now to get ready for tomorrow.” You know, considering I sold all of the pastries I had prepped for Saturday.
“But you have the wedding cake to finish,” Dustin reminds.
“It won’t take me very long. It’s already made, I just have to decorate it.”
After thirty minutes and a lot of convincing that I was indeed fine, I’m left alone on a Friday night, with a to-do list a mile long. I glance around, trying to figure out where to start.
Donuts, muffins, and scones.
Plus, pies and cookies.
Well, it’s not going to bake itself.
I might as well get busy.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jasper
I’ve been standing outside the bakery on the sidewalk, watching her work, for a while. There’s something so calming, so soothing about the way she moves, how she works efficiently and quickly to prepare whatever she’s working on.
She places a tray of cookies into the massive oven and grabs something from the refrigerator. It’s a two-tiered cake, the bottom layer chocolate and the top white. It reminds me of a wedding cake, and to be honest, for the first time in my life, I can picture myself in front of one.
With Lyndee beside me.
But let’s not put the cart before the horse. Right now, I just need to get her to talk to me. I assume she saw the article, or at least, I pray she did. Otherwise, my plan will go completely to shit in a matter of seconds. No, it won’t. I’ll just have to back up and start at the beginning.
The way I should have the last time I was here.
I know this door will be locked, so I move around to the alley behind the building. The moment I reach the door, I’m overcome with the familiar scents of sugar and cinnamon. It reminds me of her, of my sweets. I take a deep breath and knock on the door.
My heart literally climbs into my throat while I wait.