Where you could find your next romance...
Can she cook up love?
Brand-new bakery owner Sasha Manning didn’t anticipate that the teenager she hired would have such an attractive father. Back home after years away, Sasha still smarts from falling for a man who seemed too good to be true. Divorced single dad Dwight Adams will have to prove to Sasha that he’s the real deal...and once again learn to trust someone with his heart along the way.
National Bestselling Author Rochelle Alers
“Maybe that can become a reality one of these days.”
Propping her elbow on the table, Sasha rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “How?”
“We could eventually live together.”
Sasha’s hand came down in slow motion as she stared at Dwight as if he’d suddenly taken leave of his senses. “You’re talking about us living together when we don’t even...” Her words trailed off when Dwight leaned forward.
“When we don’t even know if we’re compatible in bed,” he said, completing her sentence as if reading her thoughts.
“Yes, Dwight.”
“Would you live with me if you found our lovemaking satisfying?”
“No, Dwight, I won’t live with you.”
“Won’t or can’t?”
“Both.”
“Why, Sasha?”
“Because I wouldn’t live with you unless we were in love with each other.”
“You admit to marrying a man you didn’t love, so why not live with one you don’t love?”
“I never said I didn’t love you.” Dwight reacted to her admission as if he’d been stabbed by a sharp object, becoming completely still.
“What did you say?”
WICKHAM FALLS WEDDINGS:
Small-town heroes, bighearted love!
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Wickham Falls!
As many of you who have read my books over the years know, I am a foodie. And whenever I get the opportunity to write about a chef, I’m all in. This time it is pastry chef Sasha Manning.
Sasha couldn’t wait to graduate high school to leave The Falls. Fast-forward fourteen years and after divorcing her Nashville superstar country singer husband, she wants nothing to do with the opposite sex. And now she’s come back to stay and this time to open a patisserie. Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe is one of only a few businesses in Wickham Falls owned and operated by a woman, and Sasha puts in long hours to make it viable.
Her focus unexpectedly takes a slight detour once she hires the daughter of Dr. Adams as a part-time counterperson. However, coming face-to-face with the drop-dead gorgeous single father is enough for Sasha to break her promise not to get involved again.
Resident dentist Dwight Adams has decided to forgo any romantic entanglements until his teenage daughter heads off to college. But there is something about the outgoing, bubbly, redheaded pastry chef that has him questioning whether he should reconsider dating again. What starts out as friendship turns into something neither is totally prepared for—a second chance at love.
Second-Chance Sweet Shop will take you on a roller-coaster ride of emotions and will also introduce you to new characters and offer you a glimpse into the lives of more familiar ones, while giving you a hint of others who will eventually take center stage in this continuing heartwarming series.
Happy reading!
Rochelle Alers
Second-Chance Sweet Shop
Rochelle Alers
Since 1988, national bestselling author Rochelle Alers has written more than eighty books and short stories. She has earned numerous honors, including the Zora Neale Hurston Award, the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter. A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island. Rochelle can be contacted through her website, www.rochellealers.org.
Books by Rochelle Alers
Harlequin Special Edition
Wickham Falls Weddings
Home to Wickham Falls
Her Wickham Falls SEAL
The Sheriff of Wickham Falls
Dealmaker, Heartbreaker
This Time for Keeps
American Heroes
Claiming the Captain’s Baby
Twins for the Soldier
Harlequin Kimani Romance
The Eatons
Sweet Silver Bells
Sweet Southern Nights
Sweet Destiny
Sweet Persuasions
Twice the Temptation
Sweet Dreams
Sweet Deception
Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.
Contents
Quote
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Excerpt from Cooking Up Romance by Lynne Marshall
Give her the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.
—Proverbs 31:31
Chapter One
The chilly February temperature and lightly falling rain did little to dispel the excitement coursing through Sasha Manning. She’d lost track of the number of times she had glanced at the wall clock. It was a week before Valentine’s Day and the grand opening of her patisserie. Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe was located on Main Street, in the heart of Wickham Falls’ downtown business district. The mayor, several members of the town council and the chamber of commerce had promised to be on hand at ten for the ribbon-cutting photo op.
“You can keep staring at that clock, but it isn’t going to make the hands move any faster.”
Sasha turned to look at her mother. Charlotte Manning had worked tirelessly alongside her over the past four months to get the shop ready. And Sasha knew Charlotte, who’d had a mild heart attack nearly a year ago, could not continue to put in such long hours. Several days ago, she’d posted a help-wanted sign in the front window.
“I keep wondering if they’re going to cancel the photo shoot because of the weather.” The words were barely off her tongue when the town’s photographer knocked lightly on the door. Sasha pressed her palms together to conceal their trembling. The door chimed when she opened it.
“Good morning, Jonas.”
“Good morning, Sasha. Charlotte.”
Jonas Harper, performing double duty as the photographer for the town and The Sentinel, Wickham Falls’ biweekly, set his leather equipment bag on the floor and then walked over to the showcases filled with colorful confectionaries. “They look too pretty to eat.”
Sasha smiled at the middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper ponytail. She’d spent the past two days putting together an assortment of tarts, tortes, cookies and pies. Earlier that morning she’d baked several loaves of white, wheat, rye and pumpernickel bread. “I’ve put aside samples for you and the others.”
Jonas unzipped his bright yellow waterproof poncho. “Is there someplace where I can hang this up?”
Charlotte stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’ll take that for you.”
Sasha watched her mother as she took Jonas’s poncho, offering him a bright smile. At fifty-six, Charlotte was still a very attractive woman, despite what she’d had to go through
during her volatile marriage to a man she was never able to please. Her blond hair was now a shimmering silver and there were a few noticeable lines around her bright blue eyes.
As the youngest of three, and the only girl, Sasha would cover her head with a pillow to drown out what were daily arguments between her parents. She had counted down the time until she graduated high school and could leave Wickham Falls, as her brothers had done when they enlisted in the military. It had been more than a decade since she’d called Wickham Falls home, but now she was back to stay.
“This place is really nice,” Jonas said, as he glanced around the bakery. “It reminds me of some of the little bakeshops I saw when I visited Paris.”
Sasha nodded, smiling. The colorful wallpaper stamped with images of pies, cakes, muffins and cupcakes provided a cheerful backdrop for twin refrigerated showcases, recessed lights, a quartet of pendants, and a trio of bistro tables and chairs. She had also purchased a coffee press, a cappuccino machine and a commercial blender to offer specialty coffees.
“That’s what I had in mind when I decided to open this place.” Although she’d never been to Paris, she had watched countless televised travel and cooking shows featuring French cooking to know exactly how she wanted her patisserie to look. Her mother had teased her, saying perhaps the residents of The Falls weren’t ready for fancy tarts and pastries with names they weren’t able to pronounce. But Sasha refused to let anyone dissuade her from her dream of starting over as a successful pastry chef.
When growing up she hadn’t known what she wanted to do or be. Everything changed, once she left Wickham Falls and moved to Tennessee to accept a position as a companion to an elderly woman. Adele Harvey, the former English teacher and reclusive widow of a man who made a fortune buying and selling real estate, had become the grandmother Sasha never had.
Sasha saw the ad online for a live-in companion and filled out an application, despite not having any experience aside from occasionally babysitting her neighbors’ young children. Two weeks following her high school graduation Sasha boarded a bus for a trip to Memphis, Tennessee, for an in-person interview with Mrs. Harvey and the attorney overseeing the legal affairs of the childless widow. It had taken the older woman only ten minutes to announce she was hired, and when Sasha returned to Memphis in mid-August it was as a first-class passenger on a direct flight, followed by a chauffeur-driven limo to what would become her new home.
The bell chimed again, breaking into her thoughts, and the editor of the newspaper walked in. Langston Cooper had left The Falls to pursue a career as a journalist. For more than a decade he had covered the Middle East as a foreign correspondent for an all-news cable station before returning to the States to write several bestselling books. His life mirrored Sasha’s when he married a popular singer, but the union was dissolved amid rumors that she’d had an affair with an actor. Langston returned to Wickham Falls, took over ownership of the dwindling biweekly and within two years had increased the newspaper’s circulation and advertising revenue.
Taking off his baseball cap, he smiled at Sasha, exhibiting straight, white teeth in his light brown complexion. Growing up, Langston and her brother had been what folks said were as thick as thieves. You’d never see one without the other.
Walking over to him, she pressed her cheek to his smooth-shaven jaw. “Thank you for coming.”
Langston dropped a kiss on the mass of curly hair framing Sasha’s round face. “Did you actually think I would miss the grand opening of The Falls’ celebrity pastry chef?”
Sasha blushed to the roots of her natural strawberry-blond hair. She’d dyed the bright red strands a nondescript brown following her divorce to avoid attracting the attention of eagle-eyed paparazzi who’d hounded her relentlessly once the word was out that she was no longer married to country-music heartthrob Grant Richards.
“Have you forgotten that I’m not the only celebrity in The Falls?” she teased with a smile. “After all, you are a New York Times bestselling author.”
Langston nodded. “I didn’t come here for you to talk about me, but about you. After photos and the speeches, I’d like you to schedule some time for an interview for The Sentinel’s Who’s Who column.”
Since coming back to The Falls Sasha had discovered her hometown had changed—and for the better. The list of those returning to Wickham Falls to put down roots was growing. Langston had become editor in chief of The Sentinel, Seth Collier was now sheriff, and Sawyer Middleton headed the technology department for the Johnson County Public Schools system. And for Sasha it was a no-brainer. The Falls was the perfect place for her to start over with a business where she did not have a competitor.
“Can you call me in a couple of weeks?” she asked.
“You’ve got it.” Langston leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “Good luck and congratulations,” he said as he left.
She hoped the samples she planned to offer those coming into the shop for her grand opening would generate return customers. A nervous smile barely lifted the corners of her mouth when she spied the mayor, several members of the town council and the head of the chamber of commerce through the plate-glass window.
“It’s showtime, Natasha,” Charlotte whispered.
“Yes, it is, Mama.” Her mother was the only one who had refused to call her by her preferred name. When her mother brought her home from the hospital, her three-year-old brother could not pronounce Natasha; he’d begun calling her Sasha and the name stuck. She walked over to the door and opened it.
* * *
Sasha let out an audible sigh when the town officials filed out of the shop, each with a small white box, stamped with the patisserie’s logo, and filled with miniature samples of red velvet, pumpkin spice, lemon-lime and chocolate hazelnut cupcakes. Cupcakes had become her signature specialty.
She pushed her hands into the pockets of the pink tunic with her name and the shop’s logo stamped over her heart. “Even though Mayor Gillespie was a little long-winded, I think it went well.”
“It went very, very well,” Charlotte said in agreement. “Jonas took wonderful shots of the shop, and after your interview with Langston I’m willing to bet that you won’t be able to keep up with the demand for your cupcakes.”
Charlotte gave her daughter a reassuring smile. When she had come back six months before she had felt like crying when she opened the door to see her last born appear to be a shadow of the young woman who had come to her father’s funeral what now seemed so long ago. The bright red hair was a mousy brown, and she had lost a lot of weight. At five-nine she’d appeared almost emaciated and it took Charlotte all her resolve not to become hysterical. It was only after she revealed the circumstances behind her marriage and subsequent divorce that Charlotte understood what Natasha had gone through.
Sasha pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She wanted to sell not only cupcakes, but also specialty cakes, breads and made-to-order elegant desserts. Wickham Falls wasn’t Nashville, but she didn’t plan to offer the small-town residents creations of a lesser quality than those in the Music City. The doorbell chimed and within minutes there was a steady stream of curious potential customers. She’d sold out of fresh bread before the noon hour.
“May I help you?” Sasha asked an attractive teenage girl with large dark brown eyes and neatly braided hair ending at her shoulders.
“Yes. I’ve come to apply for the part-time counterperson position.”
“Are you still in school?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m finished with my classes at noon, so I’m available from one on.”
Sasha didn’t want to write the girl off before she interviewed her, although she would’ve preferred someone more mature. “What’s your name?”
“Kiera Adams. My dad is Dwight Adams,” she said proudly.
The moment Kiera mentioned her father’s name Sasha realized she was the daughter of the local dentist. “Does your
father know you’re applying for the position?” She had asked the question because she did not want to have a problem with parents questioning the number of hours their son or daughter were committed to work.
Kiera shook her head. “Not yet. I figured I’d tell him once you hired me.”
Sasha bit back a smile. The young woman did not lack confidence. “Mama, could you please cover the front while I talk to Miss Adams?”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course.”
Sasha led Kiera to the rear of the shop, where she had set up an area for her office. She glanced over her shoulder. “Please sit down, Kiera. I’ve made up an application and I’ll give you time to fill it out before we talk.”
The help-wanted sign had been in the window for three days, and Kiera was the first person to respond. Sasha frosted several dozen cupcakes while Kiera filled out the application.
“I’m finished with the application, Miss...”
“You may call me Sasha,” she said when Kiera’s words trailed off.
She took the single sheet of paper from the teenager’s outstretched hand. It took less than a minute to review what Kiera had written. Although Sasha hadn’t included a category for age, Kiera indicated she was sixteen and a junior at the local high school. She was available to work every day beginning at one in the afternoon, and all day Saturday. Her prior work experience was as a temporary receptionist the previous summer at her father’s dental practice.
Sasha revealed, if hired, what Kiera would be responsible for. She would need Kiera to work four hours every afternoon from Tuesday through Friday. And if needed, one or two Saturdays each month. “If I hire you, will it interfere with your studies?”
“No, ma’am. Even though I’m enrolled as a junior, I’m taking senior-level classes.” She flashed a demure smile. “I took a lot of AP courses when I went to school in New York.”
It was apparent Dr. Adams’s daughter was very bright, and it was the third time Kiera had referred to her as “ma’am,” which made her feel much older than thirty-two. “You are the first one to apply for the position, and I’m going to keep your application on hand. I plan to wait a few more days, and if no one else applies, then I’ll contact you. Please keep in mind if I do decide to bring you on that initially you’ll start at the minimum wage.”
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