by Fiona Grace
“No!” Ali cried. “That’s stepping way over the line of role play! Way over.”
“It’s called method acting,” Teddy informed her. “Come on, Ali-cat. Take a risk.”
Ali wasn’t loving this. But she gave in with a reluctant nod. Teddy would never drop it otherwise.
She retrieved her cell phone from her pocket. Teddy nodded encouragingly as she typed in the landlord’s digits from the window notice. She hit the green button and listened to the dial tone, shooting Teddy a so-there look.
He smirked.
The call connected.
“Yes?” a harried male voice asked.
It sounded to Ali like she’d disturbed him in the middle of something very important. She immediately regretted having caved to Teddy’s pressure. But it was too late to back out now.
“I’m calling about the vacant store in Willow Bay,” Ali said, her stomach swilling with nerves.
“You are?” the man trilled, suddenly enthusiastic. His accent was distinctly Irish. “Grand. Do you want to view it? Is today okay? I live just up the hill, so I can meet you whenever.”
Ali immediately started panicking. That was not the response she’d been expecting!
She covered the speaker with her hand and shot an appealing glance at Teddy.
“He wants to arrange a viewing!” she whisper-cried. “Now!”
Teddy just gave her two thumbs up.
“Are you the pair standing outside now?” she heard the Irish man say in her ear.
She glanced about, alarmed.
“He can see us!” she whispered to Teddy.
“Uh… yes…” Ali said uncertainty.
“Thought so. I can see you from my house. I’m the yellow one up the hill behind the store.”
The call cut out.
Ali craned her head around the store, glancing up the long street that stretched into the hillsides. Sure enough, a man was bustling out the front door of a canary yellow house barely a football field’s distance away from where she was standing. He’d be here in a matter of minutes.
Ali’s panic intensified. This was starting to run away with her, like a train with no brakes.
She widened her eyes at Teddy. “He’s on his way!”
Teddy simply cracked his knuckles, getting himself into his self-appointed role as lawyer.
Ali glowered at him. “I love you, but sometimes I really hate you.”
She felt extremely uncomfortable for roping this poor innocent man into their fantasy role play. There couldn’t have been much interest in the place if he was willing to come running out of his house the second someone called. The wheels were in motion, and there was no backing out now. Ali had been forced onto a roller coaster and was approaching the first peak, with no option but to plunge into the abyss.
The man was close enough now for Ali to hear his plodding footsteps. He started waving. Ali gave a small, limp wave in return.
He was short and tubby, with a nervous energy that reminded Ali of Winnie-the-Pooh. He was the sort of person who didn’t walk but blustered.
“Kerrigan,” he said in his bright Irish accent, as soon as the distance between them was small enough for his voice to carry. “Kerrigan O’Neal.”
He hop-skipped the final few steps and held one hand out to Ali, while the other rummaged in his pocket for his keys.
“Ali Sweet,” she said, shaking his small, rubbery hand.
“Sweet?” he repeated. “What a wonderful name.”
“Thanks,” Ali replied.
Kerrigan looked at Teddy. The Irish man had a permanent look of bemusement on his eyebrows, like his mind was elsewhere, reliving some perplexing memory. “And this is?”
“My bro—” Ali began.
But Teddy interjected.
“—Broker,” he said. “Financial broker. And advisor. And lawyer. Ms. Sweet is considering many different venues for her new pastry venture. If she chooses Willow Bay it will bring significant money into the local economy.”
Kerrigan looked slightly intimidated. “Right you are.”
He turned to the door, jammed his key in the lock, and began wiggling it. It was clearly putting up some resistance. His cheeks started to go red as he pushed the door with his shoulder.
Suddenly, the key turned, and Kerrigan went staggering inside.
Ali and Teddy exchanged a glance, then followed him in.
“It’s in need of a good clean,” Kerrigan said, completely ignoring his earlier mishap. “But it’s only a bit of superficial work.”
Ali hardly heard him. His voice seemed to fade away as she glanced about her at the wonderful store.
It was very bright, thanks to the huge windows overlooking the ocean, and the dust they’d stirred on entering sparkled like glitter in the sunlight. The floor was tiled, like a diner, in a checkerboard pattern of peppermint green and white. The wooden counter was painted eggshell blue. Beside it was a glass-fronted display refrigerator, the type you’d find in a deli or an ice cream parlor. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture, but the three leftover bistro tables were in a cute, rustic style, and the same pleasing, soft pastel palette as the rest of the store. One wall was taken up by a large floor to ceiling shelving unit of white-painted wood. It looked distinctly hand crafted.
Kerrigan was right about the needed work being superficial. A few more tables, and a thorough clean, and this place would be good to go.
A crackle of excitement ran through Ali’s veins. She spun on the spot, lost in her imagination as she pictured how the place could be.
She visualized the display fridge full of French pastries—madeleines, croissants, and profiteroles—and herself behind it, filling up a cardboard box for a customer and her children. She pictured the wooden shelves full of trinkets and merchandise, like Milo Baptiste’s cookbooks. No. Her cookbooks; she’d always dreamed of writing a bestselling recipe book one day, so why not picture that instead of Milo’s? She added some happy customers to the tables—a French couple exclaiming how her pastries were the best they’d tasted outside of Paris—and a whole table of hunky, topless, bronzed surfers.
Then finally she looked out to the sea, to the pier. She pictured her ten-year-old self, in her high-top sneakers and side ponytail riding the Ferris wheel with her dad.
Suddenly, a feeling hit Ali that she’d not felt since before her father had left. The feeling of home.
Standing here, in this store, she felt at home for the first time in years. She felt like she was where she was always meant to be. Suddenly, those three years she’d wasted working at Éclairs and living with Otis felt like a momentary blip. This was where her life was meant to be.
“I’ll take it,” she blurted, spinning from the window to face Teddy and Kerrigan.
Kerrigan’s bushy white eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. Teddy’s mouth dropped wide open. Ali must’ve really shocked him because it took a lot for Teddy to break character.
“Are you sure, Ali—Ms. Sweet?” Teddy said, stumbling over his words as he struggled to get back into his financial advisor-cum-lawyer persona. “We do have a lot of other viewings today.”
The emphasis in his tone was not lost on Ali. He was telling her to slow down. To think about it. But Ali didn’t need to. She hadn’t felt this confident about anything in… well, forever!
“I’m certain,” Ali told him firmly. “This is the place. I mean, as long as we still have the backing of the toothpaste … investors.”
She wanted to give Teddy the chance to change his mind about his generous offer of donating his toothpaste commercial earnings to her venture.
“Absolutely,” Teddy replied with a resolute nod. “The toothpaste investors want nothing more than to see your business thrive.”
He grinned supportively, and Ali grinned her gratitude in return.
Teddy turned to Kerrigan.
“Let’s talk money,” he said coolly.
He gestured to one of the bistro tables, looking so businesslike, he’d
give Hannah a run for her money.
Everyone sat.
Teddy steepled his hands on the table in front of him and peered at Kerrigan. “How much are you asking for?”
“It’s five thousand a month,” Kerrigan replied.
Shocked, Ali snapped her face to Teddy. Five thousand dollars? That would mean the entirety of his toothpaste commercial earnings would be gone in just one month’s rent!
Teddy’s expression remained impassive, though there was a slight stress twitch under his left eye that no amount of acting could hide from Ali’s perceptive gaze.
“That’s all in, I assume,” Teddy said. “Bills, property tax… and obviously you’ll have the place refurbished. It’s clearly not fit for purpose in this state.”
Kerrigan scratched his neck awkwardly. “Actually, the five grand is just the rent. That’s what Pete, the last tenant, paid.”
“Oh,” Teddy said, blandly. He went to stand.
Kerrigan made a panicked gesture with his hands. “But we could waive some of the fees, if need be.”
Teddy slowly sank back to sitting. “My client isn’t interested in hidden fees. One straight up payment per month. Those are the terms. Take them or leave them.”
Kerrigan worried his hands in his lap. But Teddy obviously had him. There couldn’t have been much interest in the store for him to even be considering such a discount.
“Y—yes, I’m sure we can make that work,” Kerrigan said.
“And the first month will be waived?” Teddy continued. “Because my client will need to buy all her equipment. It’s simply not possible for her to use the space as it is.”
“Y—yes, I suppose that’s fine,” Kerrigan said.
Teddy clapped his hands. “Then let’s seal this deal, shall we? Would you like my lawyers to draw up the contract, or do you have one prepared?”
Kerrigan reached into his satchel. “I have one here. If it’s acceptable to you, Ms. Sweet?”
Ali didn’t possess the same acting skills as Teddy. She had to bite her lip to stop from screaming out with excitement.
“Yes,” she said, trying to sound aloof. “That is… acceptable.”
Kerrigan pushed the document across the table to Ali and placed a pen on top. Ali’s cheeks became hotter and hotter. She could feel Teddy watching her out of the corner of her eye as she picked up the pen and turned to the first page of the agreement.
“Maybe we should look at this back at home—I mean, the office?” Ali said.
“I can assure you the toothpaste investors are on board,” Teddy urged.
Ali took a deep breath and signed on the dotted line.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Panic set in the moment Kerrigan left Ali and Teddy on the sidewalk of the store, with the signed agreement tucked under his arm and a set of keys deposited in Ali’s hand.
“Did I really just do that?” Ali squealed to Teddy.
“Yup,” Teddy replied with a grin.
It had all happened so quickly. She’d gotten carried away in the moment, caught up in play acting a rich, famous chef with a personal financial broker. But now, back in the light of day, when she was plain old Ali Sweet with no savings, it started to dawn on her what she’d actually just done.
“Is it too late to back out?” Ali said, freaking out.
Teddy looked at the keys in her hands. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s too late now.”
“Where am I doing to live?” Ali said, suddenly thinking of all the practical things she’d blithely ignored while caught up in her role play. “I can’t commute from LA every day.”
“Already covered,” Teddy said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Confused, Ali frowned. Teddy pointed to another notice in the window of the store. This one was advertising a studio apartment. Small one bed, one bath, kitchen-diner, beachside.
Ali glanced over at the multicolored stone cottages along the shore that the ad must be referring to. They were all squished in together, with no road outside, just a footpath to connect them.
“In one of the rainbow houses?” she said.
Now she really did start freaking out about it all. The serendipity of it all made her stomach turn somersaults. She thought of the fortune teller on the pier, and her prediction that Willow Bay would provide. It certainly seemed to be doing just that.
“Shall we give them a call?” Teddy prompted.
“I guess we better,” Ali replied.
She grabbed her phone and began typing in the number. But as she did, her phone helpfully told her she’d dialed the number before. It was Kerrigan O’Neal’s number.
Ali looked up at Teddy. “You’re never going to believe this!”
*
Ali felt rather awkward as the bumbling man came all the way back down the hill just a moment after they’d sent him up it.
“I didn’t think to mention the apartment,” he said as he jiggled around for another set of keys lost to the depths of his pockets. “I assumed Ms. Sweet would want a bigger property.”
Without missing a beat, Teddy said, “This is just for her guests.”
Kerrigan nodded like that made perfect sense, and opened the door. Behind his back, Ali flashed Teddy a look. Sometimes the ease with which he lied alarmed her. And how would she keep up this ridiculous charade, considering Kerrigan O’Neal was potentially going to be her landlord twice over?
But as she stepped inside the little apartment, all of Ali’s thoughts and concerns melted away. The place was small, but very charming, and with a lovely view of the ocean. It was the perfect size for her—the bedroom was large enough for a double bed and wardrobe, there was no bath but the shower looked decently sized, and the kitchen area at one side of the living room would be adequate enough for simple meals, considering she had a professional-sized one just a short walk away if she wanted to do anything more elaborate. There was no yard, but who needed a yard when she was just a few feet from the ocean? The beach would be her yard!
It was cheaper, too, than her place in LA, Ali thought as she paced into the bedroom for a second look. So once the lease ended on her old place, she’d technically be saving money. Well, assuming the bakery was able to turn a profit within the first month. Which might be easier said than done.
“This is just what I’m looking for,” she said, coming back into the living room, where Teddy was so immersed in his character he was snootily inspecting the wiring.
Kerrigan looked thrilled. “I wish it was always this easy!” he exclaimed. He produced another contract from his suitcase, and another pen. “Déjà vu, eh?”
Ali took them both, perching on the edge of the couch. Now she’d found a place that could technically cost less than she was shelling out for before, she felt a lot less panicky about what she was doing. At least for now. It might be a different story when she was putting in twelve-hour shifts seven days a week. But then again, Ali was used to waking up at the crack of dawn and slaving away in a hot kitchen while being scolded. At least this way, there wouldn’t be anyone breathing down her neck, and her commute would be a stroll across the beach.
She signed on the dotted line and handed the contract back to Kerrigan.
He passed her the set of keys, thanked her, and left.
Ali shut the door behind him and turned to face Teddy. In unison, they began jumping up and down in the air, cheering. This was the celebration she should’ve had earlier if her panic hadn’t set in.
“Teddy!” she squealed. “I can’t believe this is happening!”
“I’m so happy for you!” he exclaimed, jumping around in circles with her.
“I need to phone my old landlord,” Ali said, breathless. “Tell him I want to get out of my lease.”
They stopped jumping, and Ali left Teddy in the living room to make the call in the privacy of the bedroom.
Her old landlord answered after a few rings and Ali briefly explained the situation with Otis.
“I need a fresh start,” she said. “So I’m putting in
my notice to leave.”
“Great!” the landlord replied enthusiastically. “How long a notice period are you giving?”
Ali hadn’t been expecting such excitement from him. “The two-month minimum.”
“This is terrific news,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to put the rent up for years but I’m not allowed until you go.”
Ali was struck by a sudden inspiration. “I mean, I don’t actually have to give any notice period, if you don’t need me to. If you want the place back sooner, that works for me. I can be gone by … well, the weekend.”
Her landlord made a noise like he was choking on joy. “Really? Are you sure? You don’t need more time to think about it?”
Ali looked around at the small bedroom that was soon to be hers and hers alone. She was more than ready to start her new life.
“I’m sure,” she said, with finality. “This weekend will be my last.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ali had thought it would be harder to leave LA. She’d lived there for three years, after all. She’d made a home for herself. At the very least she’d thought she would cry. But as she carried her last box down to her car, all she felt was relief.
She hadn’t even noticed it happening, her life falling into a monotonous rut. But now she was suddenly free and she was thrilled to start her new dream.
The drive to Willow Bay felt way longer the second time around, because now Ali was desperate to get there, because she was so eager to start her new life. She felt like she was in a dream. Her life had done a complete 180.
She parked in the lot behind her row of cottages and began unloading her boxes, stacking them in the empty parking space. It was a Sahara-desert-hot day, and Ali was sweating from the drive. The ocean breeze on her brow was very welcome.
Ali’s phone started to ring. She checked it and saw Hannah’s name on the screen.
Hannah? What was Hannah doing calling her? Her sister never called.
