“Your program lasts for five months, not five years. We’ll manage.”
He was so calm. So positive. Trying to channel that, she took a big breath.
“This is your dream,” he said. “This is what you want, right?”
“Very badly,” she said without hesitation. She couldn’t help but think of how Sam used to think her wanting to go to pastry school was ridiculous. That it would be foolish to leave her job and him when she was already a baker. She’d listened to that line of reasoning for way too long.
Leo smoothed back her hair and handed her paper towels from the kitchen to blot her eyes and blow her nose. “Now’s your time. Your time to shine.”
“Oh, Leo.” He got what she was trying to do. He got her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you for being you.”
“I’m so grateful I’m me right now,” he said.
She pulled back and assessed him. “Why is that?”
“Because right now you’re all teary and you’re looking at me like you really like me.”
“Funny,” she said, “I was thinking that you really like me, too. Because you’ve called me darling and sweetheart, all in the past five minutes.”
“I think we’re both really grateful people.” His lips met hers for kisses that left her dizzy and breathless, the little room spinning around her. “Congratulations, Tessa,” he whispered. “You deserve it. You deserve everything.” His eyes held a sentimental look as he rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek.
“What is it?”
“I should have been saying that to you fourteen years ago.”
“Well,” she said, “I think that this time, we both won.” And went back to kissing him.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Tessa had a spring in her step and was humming a happy tune as she went about baking the loaves from yesterday that had risen and began making the fresh dough for tomorrow, as she’d done every day since she was eighteen.
Everything was the same, but in reality, everything was different.
She was different.
She was headed off to make her dream come true, one that for years didn’t seem possible.
Even setting up the bread wasn’t so bad. The difference was freedom. For the first time, she could choose her course. And that was absolutely thrilling.
And Leo was more than okay with it—he encouraged and supported her. He was proud of her.
She tried to just be happy in the moment. Which she was, even if it seemed too good to be true. For once, everything felt…right.
The bell over the door tinkled, as it had been doing all morning. The big commotion over her YouTube channel and the new things going on at the restaurant had brought people flocking in. This time it was Max Hammond, her mom’s longtime accountant, strolling in, wearing a suit and tie. “Good morning, Tessa,” he said pleasantly, setting his briefcase on a tabletop. “Can I get a half dozen of those melt-in-your-mouth croissants? I love those things.”
“Hey, Max,” Tessa greeted him as always. “How are you?” Inside, she did a mental fist pump. For the first time in years, his mere presence didn’t give her heart palpitations from having to discuss bad news about the business.
“Great,” he said. “I heard about the huge crowds last night. And the potential new baking contracts. Congratulations.”
“Business is picking up.” Tessa gave a thumbs-up. With all the ideas she and Leo had planned, she felt that this was only the beginning.
“Glad to hear it,” Max said. “Maybe your mom will reconsider selling to the Castorinis now?”
Tessa halted, her tongs suspended over the croissants. She couldn’t have just heard that. “Well, things are really looking up. We’re going to be doing much better now.” She had no doubt that her mom would rather cut off her right arm than sell her beloved bakery to the Castorinis, regardless of the fact that there’d been some recent fence-mending.
She decided that she did hear that wrong and was just about to ask what Max was talking about when he said, “Well then, she should probably destroy that paperwork I drew up.”
Tessa’s heart began a slow, hard pound. Okay, this was not a misunderstanding after all. She hadn’t misheard. She flicked up her gaze to address him directly. “Max, are you saying my mom was actually preparing to sell the business to the Castorinis?” Had the lowest point actually been that low? Did her mom start some kind of sale proceedings out of desperation?
He suddenly turned bright red. And cleared his throat. “Clearly I’ve overstepped. I thought you must have discussed this with Leo. I’m just so thrilled business is booming.”
“With Leo?” Discuss what exactly with Leo?
“I’m sorry, Tessa. You’ll have to take this up with him or your mom.” He left a bill on the glass bakery case, grabbed his bag of croissants, and hurriedly left.
Vivienne appeared from the back just as Tessa was gripping the counter in disbelief. “What was that all about?” she asked.
Tessa’s heart sank into her stomach as she realized her sister had heard everything. “Do you know anything about this?”
Viv shook her head. “Maybe Mom was considering selling months ago, when sales were really awful. That has to be it.”
Tessa tried to talk herself down. She wasn’t worried about the sale. Things were so much better now. There was no reason to sell. And surely Leo wouldn’t have known about something so catastrophic and not said anything.
Would he?
…
In the early afternoon, Tessa left the bakery, unable to concentrate. The little house was quiet, Leo hard at work at the restaurant. After feeding Cosette, she walked over to the nook where Leo’s grandfather’s desk sat. She sat in the sturdy oak chair and ran her hand along the smooth, cool grain of the wood as she looked out the window into the tiny backyard.
There was the wind chime that Leo had hung on a low-hanging branch for Cosette, who liked to sit on a rock and bat at it.
And the flowers she’d planted in two old barrels, now spilling over the edges.
She turned her gaze to the inside. The main sitting room was orderly and neat, the bright pillows she’d picked out lined up on both couches—the purple one and the leather one—and her plants arranged on the floor in front of the bay window. The mail sat tidily in a basket, the electronics lined up on a charging pad. And in the middle of the tiny kitchen…the now-finished door-turned-island that had stopped her late-evening forays downtown.