by Marina Adair
“Hi, Gage.”
“What do you know? You finally answered your goddamn phone.”
“In case you forgot, my grandmother died. I have a lot on my plate right now, Gage. And I know from Cecily that everything is fine at Bread and Cie. So what’s so important that you couldn’t wait?” Or just have sent a damn email? She knew full well why. He didn’t want to give her time to respond to whatever it was he had to say. Syd had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to renege on his agreement to let her open a second bakery and was going for an ambush.
“Williams-Sonoma has been in touch.” He paused for effect. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “They want to include your biscuits in their mail-order food catalog.”
“Okay.” She waited for the But. When nothing was forthcoming, she said, “That’s fantastic.”
“I thought you’d like it. But”—there it was—“our agreement with Sugar Café is that they have exclusive dibs on the biscuits.” Sugar Café was a California chain and represented a nice chunk of their business.
“I guess we have to pass with Williams-Sonoma then.” As much as she’d like to do business with the kitchenware giant, a deal was a deal.
Gage let out a sigh. “I crunched the numbers and it would be more advantageous to work with Williams-Sonoma. The catalog has national reach.”
“We can’t just break our contract with Sugar Café.”
“Don’t you know contracts were made to be broken? Our lawyers can figure out a way.”
How like Gage to take his commitments so lightly. It took everything she had not to make a snide remark. “I don’t roll that way, Gage, and you know it. Tell Williams-Sonoma no. I have to go.”
Before she could hang up, he asked, “How are you doing? Did you get my flowers?”
“I did. Thank you.” It had been thoughtful of him to send them. He wasn’t a total shit.
“Did the funeral go okay?”
“Uh-huh, it was a beautiful tribute to my grandmother. How’s everything there?”
“Good. Our holiday numbers are up from last year, so I’m happy. I wish you’d reconsider on the Williams-Sonoma thing. It would be great exposure and business is business, Syd.”
That’s where they were different. To her, a good businessperson kept her word. The way Nick had with Stella. “It’s not always about the bottom line, Gage. Sometimes value comes in being honorable.”
He let out a snort. “Whatever, Syd. You’ll learn the hard way with your new enterprise that turning down good business is no way to run a railroad. But I don’t want to argue over the phone about it. How soon until everything is wrapped up there?”
“I’m meeting with Gram’s lawyer later this week and have a ticket home for the following week. I’ll call you when I get back.”
She hung up and parked in the driveway, leaving Nick enough room to get out in his truck. Syd sat in her car for a while, letting Nick’s words roll over her: Syd, don’t you see? I’m falling for you.
She’d fallen for him sixteen years ago. And despite the animosity she’d carried with her into adulthood, all it had taken was one kiss for her to fall all over again. Life sure knew how to throw a curveball.
There was a tap on her window, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up and there was Nick.
She got out of the car, and without saying a word he took her in his arms.
“What’ve we done?” She rested her forehead against his chest.
He let out a wry laugh. “We’ve got a couple of weeks. What do you say we take it one day at a time and live in the moment?”
Why? It would only make the end worse. But she nodded because she wasn’t ready to let him go.
* * *
They spent lunch in bed.
“At this rate I’ll never get the carriage house done.” Nick rolled to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. He traced a line down the valley between Syd’s breasts.
She arched up and kissed him. “You hungry?”
“Yep. For seconds.” He rolled her on top of him. “Let me look at you for a while.”
She loved the way his eyes filled with heat. When the time came, how would she be able to say good-bye? I won’t think about it now. As Nick said, she’d live in the moment and enjoy every second of the time they had together.
Her phone rang. She was about to ignore it when she saw the Boston area code. “It’s her,” she blurted.
“Who?”
She climbed off Nick and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. “Hello.”
“Hi. This is Fern Rogers. I called earlier about the baking position. I’ve been moving the last few days from Boston to Brewer and just now got your message.”
Syd shrugged into her robe. “May I ask how you found out about the position?”
“Your ad on Glassdoor.”
“Ah,” Syd said. Who knew that Gram had even known about Glassdoor? “I’m afraid that the position is no longer open.”
“Really? Darn, from the description, the job was perfect for me.” Fern sounded so disappointed that Syd considered offering her a job in San Francisco at Bread & Cie.
“I’m a bit at a disadvantage,” Syd said. “The person who placed the ad has since died. I’m her granddaughter and didn’t know anything about her plans. What exactly did the ad say?” She turned to find Nick intently watching her.
“Oh, wow, I’m sorry about your grandmother. Uh, just that she was looking for an assistant baker to help open a tearoom.”
“A tearoom?” Syd’s eyes grew wide. The mystery continued to thicken.
“Uh-huh. In an old Victorian on a tree-lined street. There was a picture in the ad. It was lovely and got me really excited about the job.”
Syd couldn’t imagine what her grandmother had been thinking. There was already a bakeshop in Moonbright, and of course there was the Corner Café. She doubted a town this size could also support a tearoom.
“I apologize about the confusion,” Syd said. “Best of luck with your job search.”
“Thank you. And if you change your mind, you’ve got my number.”
“What was that about a tearoom?” Nick asked when Syd got off the phone.
Syd shook her head, still puzzled. “Apparently Stella was planning to turn the house into a tearoom. She didn’t tell you that?”
“Not a word.” He looped his hand around Syd’s waist and pulled her back into bed. “Not a bad idea, though.”
“A tearoom? Really?” Syd pulled a face. “Just what Moonbright needs.” From a business point of view, the idea was patently ridiculous.
“The town’s growing, Syd. Yuppies moving in from Portland and Bangor. Kids who grew up here are coming back to raise their families. Moonbright’s no longer the small town you remember. Hell, my brothers and I have more business than we can handle. And tourists no longer just flock here for Halloween. They pack the town in summer and are back for fall and winter. If you don’t believe me, ask over at the Corner Café or at Bellaluna’s Bakeshop.”
Syd had noticed how crowded both establishments were but had chalked it up to the Halloween rush.
She blew out a breath. “What do you think Stella was up to?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious.” He kissed her deeply on the mouth. “She wanted you to stay and run her tearoom.”
“That’s nuts. She knew how important Bread and Cie is to me, that I was looking for a second location for a new bakery.”
Nick gave her a pointed look.
“Nuh-huh, no way. My life is in San Francisco.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, then.” He got out of bed and started to dress.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to work.”
“Let me make you something to eat first.” She collected her clothes from the floor and ducked into the bathroom.
Nick was waiting in the kitchen, looking at his watch, when she got downstairs. He pointed at the wall. “Your clock’s eight minutes slow.”
Syd stared at the minute hand, then checked the time on her phone. Sure enough, the clock was slow.
Uh-uh, not that damned Halloween legend.
A draft swept through the room and she checked to see if she’d left a window open. But everything was closed tight. She could’ve sworn she smelled a hint of Jean Naté, Stella’s favorite scent.
What are you up to, Grandmother dearest?
Stop, she told herself, or she’d be accused of being as superstitious as the old women of Moonbright.
Chapter 9
“Well, how did it go?” Nick asked as he installed a bank of shelving in the corner of the carriage house.
In the last few days, the project had come a long way. The large sink and small walk-in cooler were both up and running. The cabinetry was mounted and Nick had assembled the portable stainless-steel countertops and racks. It looked like a smaller version of Syd’s setup at Bread & Cie.
Just a few things here and there and they could stick a fork in Gram’s vision.
Well, almost.
“Gram’s lawyer confirmed Stella’s wish for a tearoom. Gram left the plans with him, including permits to turn the driveway into outdoor seating and to build a structure off the carriage house for a small dining room.” Syd was still reeling from the news.
“Hmm, she never mentioned anything to me about another building, or an outdoor seating area. Just the kitchen.”
Syd nodded. “She wanted it to be my decision and apparently hoped that going ahead with the kitchen would act as an enticement.” Syd suspected that Stella had also hoped that the man building the kitchen would be yet another enticement. Gram had always been wily that way.
“What are you going to do?” Nick put down a shelf and wrapped his arms around her.
“There’s nothing I can do. I can’t run a business in Moonbright from San Francisco. And honestly, I could use the cash from the sale of the house to open my second bakery. But at the same time, I don’t want to let Gram down.” She closed her eyes, wishing Stella were here and they could have one of their heart-to-hearts.
“What did the lawyer say?”
“That Gram knew this would be a dilemma, and at the end of the day, she wanted me to do what was best for me. She just wanted to give me options, he said.” Syd sighed.
She waited for Nick to add his two cents, maybe ask her to stay. But crickets, which in her mind spoke volumes. Syd didn’t know what she expected of him. They’d only just reunited and although he’d said that he was falling for her . . . well, it didn’t matter, because staying was out of the question.
Syd gazed around the room. “The place looks great. You know of anyone who wants to open a tearoom in a gorgeous Victorian in Maine with a killer commercial kitchen?”
“Can’t say I do.” He kissed her, making her pulse quicken the way he always did. Oh, how she would miss this man and his kisses. “On another note, how would you like to go on a real date tonight?”
“A real date?” She laughed. As far as she was concerned, they’d been “dating” like crazy.
“Yeah. Call me old-fashioned, but something besides my house or yours. Something like dinner and a movie.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“I’m just waiting for the final inspections from the planning and health departments. Then I’ll knock off, run home for a shower, and pick you up around six.”
“Okay. How should I dress for this real date?”
“Any way you want. But just remember, less is more.”
* * *
Nick was setting himself up for a world of hurt. Syd already had one foot out the door. In a week, poof, she’d be gone. Hadn’t he learned from Jennifer? No, because I’m a dumbass.
He shaved, rubbed his hair dry with a towel, and slapped on some aftershave. He’d managed to snag the last reservation at Bucatini’s in Bangor. It was the best Italian restaurant in the area. The chef made a risotto that was out of this world, even better than his mother’s, though he’d never tell her that. Not if he wanted to live to see thirty-three.
Nick glanced at his watch. He was running late. The inspectors had left his job for last. They’d signed off on the work, but the planning department guy still needed to check off the bathroom, which Nick estimated would be done by the end of the week. Then he’d start on remodeling the Victorian. Syd had already picked out new bathroom fixtures and paint colors. The work was straightforward and would be done in plenty of time for Syd to put the house on the market in the spring.
Usually, Nick preferred working in a vacant house: no homeowners looking over his shoulder. But he was going to miss Syd’s lunches. He waited for them like he did for his next breath. Even back in high school, he’d watched the clock to meet up with her for tutoring. She’d been so easy to talk to . . . so comfortable and at the same time alluring. Maybe because she hadn’t originally grown up in Moonbright, which for him made her an exotic bird.
He’d had a shot at her back then and blown it. And now . . . well, you couldn’t fit a square peg in a round hole. Syd would never be happy running a tearoom in a small town. From the sound of it, she had San Francisco at her feet. Why settle for anything less?
He grabbed a jacket on his way out and zipped through side streets to get to Maple. When he pulled up, Syd was waiting for him and climbed into his truck before he could get out and open the door for her.
“You look beautiful.” He leaned over to kiss her.
“How can you tell? I’m bundled up like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”
“I can still see your face.” He played with her scarf. “It’s a really great face, by the way.”
“Yours too.” She sniffed his neck. “And you smell fantastic. Where we going?”
“My favorite Italian place. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved.”
He reached over and took her hand, and they rode like that the entire way to Bangor. They filled the cab of his truck with conversation about each other’s day. Nick couldn’t remember enjoying another person’s company as much as he did Syd’s. She was the personification of beauty and brains—and a great listener to boot.
When they arrived at the restaurant, he ushered her inside. They were seated next to a stone hearth with a blazing fire. The waitress had just taken their drink orders when Syd’s phone played the William Tell Overture.
“Shoot, I forgot to turn the ringer off.” She fumbled in her purse until she found her phone. As she was trying to turn it off, a second call came in. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced at her phone screen. “It was Gage and now my head baker. I think I’d better get it.” She got up from the table and walked to the restroom.
Nick checked his watch. It wasn’t even five yet in California. He glanced around the restaurant, where every table was full.
Candlelight flickered, giving the dining room a romantic glow. A trio of musicians were setting up in the corner. He’d forgotten that the restaurant had live music. Hopefully, he and Syd would stick around after dinner, have a drink or two, and enjoy the entertainment.
But when Syd returned to the table she was ashen.
Nick immediately got to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been a fire at Bread and Cie. I have to go home and book a flight to San Francisco.”
“Ah, crap, Syd.” What a hell of a thing to happen. “I’ll get you home in record time, then drive you to the airport.” He flagged their server down to let her know they wouldn’t be staying.
“You know what? Skip Moonbright. Can you take me straight to the airport?”
“You got it.”
Syd worked the phone while Nick headed to Bangor International. From her clipped long-distance conversations, Nick gathered that the blaze had been caused by faulty wiring and there was extensive damage.
He rested his hand on her leg. “You have good insurance, right?”
“Yes, but this is our busiest season. Losi
ng the revenue could kill us.”
As he listened to her discussion with the ex, it sounded to Nick like the bakery was in bad shape. “I’m sorry, Syd. I wish I had something better to say, something more reassuring.”
She let out a deep breath. “Your moral support is enough. Gram was always that for me and without her—” She broke off.
“If there’s anything I can do, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. It means a lot.”
“Which airline are you booked on?” he asked as he navigated the entrance to the airport.
“American Airlines.”
Nick doubted she’d get a flight right away. “I’ll come in with you.” The last thing he wanted to do was leave her stranded at the airport.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He squeezed her knee. “At least if you have to kill time, I can get you something to eat.”
“Ah, I’m sorry I ruined our date.” She dropped her head on his shoulder.
“Promise me a rain check.” But he had a bad feeling that this was it. Once she got to San Francisco, she wouldn’t be returning.
“Absolutely,” she said, but he detected a sadness in her voice.
His gut told him Syd was thinking the same thing as he. This was it, the end.
Chapter 10
Syd’s bakery looked like a burned-out refugee camp.
“It’s even worse than you described,” she told Gage as they walked through the building, examining the damage. The walls had charred marks on the drywall and you could see where the flames had licked the ceiling.
If it hadn’t been for the sprinkler system, it would’ve been much worse, the firefighters said. Syd had trouble imagining the situation any graver than this. Ash and retardant covered the floor, the equipment was beyond repair, and the space stank like burnt toast if the toast had been on steroids.
It would take months to fix the damage. “What’re we going to do?” Syd rubbed her temples. She was going on zero sleep, fueled only by coffee.
Gage shrugged. “We can’t afford not to fill our holiday orders. November to January accounts for roughly a third of our revenue stream. I’m hoping we can find a temporary kitchen.”
