“Contessa Bakes. You have five hundred subscribers. Interesting.” Viv was tapping the phone vigorously, scrolling through, looking at her poor-quality videos, no doubt, and comments from the small handful of her followers who followed her baking escapades.
Tessa shrugged. “It’s just for fun. Some people are interested in baking techniques. Some love French cuisine or France. And others are seniors looking for a little entertainment. Honestly, posting keeps me on my toes, because people ask me questions about how I make stuff, what exactly the pastry is, the history of it, all kinds of things.”
“Who’s Mrs. Roseberry? She comments on every video. And she posted a pic of her cat.” She held up the phone to Tessa.
“Oh, her husband died last year,” Tessa said. “He was French. She’s actually from South Bend. She says she’s going to stop by and meet me sometime.”
“That’s nice. How about DrLongschlongMD?”
Tessa grabbed her phone and did what she needed to block the person. “I do get the usual creepers. But mostly it’s a nice little group of people. It’s just…fun.” She didn’t mention that it helped with loneliness. And made her feel happy because she got to share her love of baking. Which she somehow needed to do.
Tessa put down her phone. “Anyway, I don’t have time to build my channel properly. I’m too busy trying to learn how to make new desserts.”
“No, Tessa,” Vivienne said emphatically. “This is actually the perfect time to keep posting. Do you know why? You’re on the brink of doing something exciting, of putting your creations out there. And you’re a newlywed. Have you told your people that? You need to keep documenting what you’re doing.” She tapped the phone against the counter. “I could help you.”
“That sounds like a lot of work and time.” Time Tessa didn’t have. “Plus, I’m not very camera friendly. I mean, look at me. I’ve been working all day, and I’m a wreck. Honestly, I was just doing it for fun.” Tessa pocketed her phone. As if that would table the discussion.
“You’re looking at this all wrong.” Vivienne spoke with her hands, clearly excited. “People love honesty. They love chitchat. They love…love stories. They don’t care that you’re not wearing lipstick.” She grinned. “Plus, what you’re doing here could actually help our bakery. And Leo’s restaurant.”
“You’re kidding, right? I mean, all I have is a phone holder with a light ring. I can’t afford special equipment, and I don’t have time to learn about that technical stuff.”
Viv smiled smugly. “That’s why you have me.” She held out a hand. “Now surrender your phone. We can start right away.”
“Viv, I’m a mess! Look at me! How about we put you on camera?”
“You’re adorable. Especially with the flour on your apron. And besides, if you attract new subscribers, you might actually make some money from your channel.”
Money? Tessa surrendered to Vivienne’s enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. Whatever you think.”
“Great.” Vivienne looked excited—and pleased. “Now as a reward, I get to lick the bowls.”
“Deal.” Tessa would do it. Because it was desperate times. And what did she have to lose?
Chapter Twelve
Leo walked into the bakery on a “busy” Tuesday afternoon to find Tessa chatting with Arthur Gladwell and Beatrice Hawkins, two of the tenants at the senior complex he managed. As the bell tinkled above the door, Tessa looked up and saw him and did a double take.
“Hey, Tessa,” he said with a wave.
“Hey there, Leo.” She gave him a wave back and lost her balance with a heavy baking sheet, which clattered to a counter. Which made her blush furiously. Cute.
“Oh look, it’s the newlyweds,” Arthur said.
“That certainly was a rush-rush wedding,” Bea said sotto voce, nodding solemnly. “Are you sure you don’t have a bun in the oven?”
“The only buns in the oven are some ficelles, if you’re interested in those,” Tessa said, pointing to the long, thin breadsticks in the case.
“Hey, Arthur.” Leo bent to pet Arthur’s dog, Millie, who jumped up to lick his face. Which helped him ignore Tessa’s furious blush. “And Bea. Nice to see you both.”
“Hi, Leo,” Arthur said as Tessa packed up his lunch. “The new remodel in our building is fantastic. It’s like living in a brand-new apartment.”
“I love the fresh paint,” Beatrice said. “And the new stainless-steel refrigerator. Thank you, Leo.”
“Glad you folks like it.” Leo gave Millie an extra belly rub and stood.
“Wait a minute, Bea,” Tessa said, tiny lines crinkling her brow. “You two are…talking.” She gestured between Bea and Leo.
“Of course we’re talking.” Arthur pointed a thumb at Leo. “Although I’m a little jealous this guy asked you to marry him first.”
“No,” Tessa said. “I meant Bea and Leo are talking. Bea, didn’t you say seniors were being evicted from your complex? By the management?” She raised a brow at Leo.
Arthur laughed. “If you call evicted the fact that some of us had to take turns spending the night across the hall in the model unit while our places were being painted and new fixtures put in.”
“Oh, I might have exaggerated that just a little,” Beatrice confessed, flapping her hand dismissively. “I must admit, I was a little discombobulated about leaving my apartment for two nights. But it was worth it.”
Arthur picked up his bag and patted Leo on the back. “You got yourself a good one there. Treat her like the diamond that she is.” With a wink to Tessa, he tugged on Millie’s leash and helped Bea out the door.
“Arthur’s very fond of you,” Leo said as the door shut.
“Well, I’m very fond of him, too. He’s one of the people who’ve helped us stay in business.”
“I think he comes in for more than the egg croissants.” Wait. Did he just sound jealous of an eighty-year-old who might be a little enamored of his fake wife?
She shrugged. “Well, who doesn’t like company?”
Leo leaned against the bakery case and stopped the small talk. “You thought I was evicting seniors?”
“Maybe?” she said in a very quiet voice. He shot her a frown. “Okay, yes.”
He touched his chest with a dramatic gesture. “That’s cold, Tessa. Really cold.”