Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harper

Spring in Bayview was beautiful. I was going to miss it once I left this town.

I was a baker. I was probably supposed to love winter—staying inside and baking Christmas cakes and Valentine’s treats and all the sweets to get everyone through the colder months. But frankly, I hated it. The moment I saw those first snowflakes, it was me against the world, and it stayed that way until March rolled around and the blooms poked up, the trees started to get some color again.

And today was my favorite day of the year—the first day above fifty degrees. I had the bakery doors propped open, opened all the windows, and I let the sweet scent of springtime mix with the rich aroma of buttered pastry and bread that filled the bakery as I slotted French breads into their place by the door, filling up the basket as Anders came into the building.

“Oh—almost just walked right into you,” he laughed. “Good morning, Harper.”

“Hey, Anders. How are you and the wife?”

He smiled wider. “Well, you know how it is. Weather’s warming up, so I’m trying to convince her she’s too old to be out planting hollyhocks, and I’ll let you guess just how much luck I’ve had convincing her.”

“She’s a talented gardener. Can’t really keep her away.”

“She’s a silly little duckling and the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, that’s what she is,” he chuckled. “Well, I can’t complain. I’d just been talking about it to Emberlynn yesterday, and she volunteered to help Nancy tend to the garden when she needed it. Said she’d get Aria to help and everything.”

I softened into a smile. “Emberlynn’s a big softie.”

“So she is. Her girlfriend, too, just less likely to admit it. I wonder when they’re going to get married, those two.”

I laughed, turning back to finish slotting the breads into the basket there. “They’ve always been comfy taking their time. I feel like they’re the type to date for eight, nine years before they get married. I bet Gwen and Kay are probably the ones getting married first, even if Will’s going to be jealous. Out of carrot for right now, but there’s chocolate. Always chocolate.”

“Spring’s in the air. Nancy’s not the only one who wants carrot cake now.” He walked alongside me as I headed back in the direction of the register, him heading for the display of mini-cupcakes, his usual—one for his wife every day.

Talk about sickeningly sweet. That was probably something Emberlynn and Aria would do. Probably something I could see Priscilla doing for Annabel sixty years down the line.

Anders said the exact thing I needed him to not follow up with. “Everyone’s been coupling up so fast this past year, you know. You’ll have to find someone too before long.”

“Ugh. I don’t need that. I’m keeping busy running this place. Besides, I…” I pursed my lips. I didn’t need to get into the details with Anders. Poor old man just wanted to get his wife a cupcake. “Relationships are annoying.”

He hummed lightly to himself. “I think Emberlynn used to say things like that.”

I parted ways, heading around to the other side of the register as Krystal corralled her three adorable little daughters up to check out, making small talk with her—the weather, the festival coming up soon—as I bagged up her things and swiped her card. Sam came up after her, grinning at me as he leaned over the counter.

“Hey there,” he said. I glanced down at his empty hands, and back up at him.

“I’m not on the menu,” I said. He laughed—most of what he ever did. He was a big guy, muscular and always grinning and laughing at everything, like it was impossible to take anything seriously.

“Nah. Nothing like that. Just wanted to ask you some… insider info.”

“How titillating,” I deadpanned.

He whispered—a Sam whisper, the kind that was loud enough everyone in the store could still hear. “What kind of cake does Jenna like?”

I relaxed. “Oh yeah… her birthday’s up soon, isn’t it? I should bring her something. And not one of those creepy clown dolls she likes.”

“Hey, don’t knock the clowns. They grow on you.”

“I’d rather die. She likes a 7-Up cake.”

“Score! I’m buying her one. Do you sell them?”

“You’re in luck. I wouldn’t be trying to sell you on one if I didn’t. On the cake display rack with all the others.”

He grinned, leaning in closer and whispering—still just as loud. “You want to know a secret?”

“Do I ever,” I said, voice flat.

“I forgot it was her birthday. I just wanted to get her a cake.”

“I don’t know why I thought anything different.”

He left for the cakes just as Anders came back up to the counter, smiling after Sam, holding the one mini-cupcake. I already had his order rung up, and he already had the cash in hand for it.

“Sam and Jenna are together, now, too, right?”

“Um… open secret, I think is the current status.”

“Like I said, you’ve got to find your someone too. I’m sure they’d be lucky to have you.”

“Eh…” I closed the cash register drawer and tossed his receipt in the trash. Somehow I found I couldn’t make eye contact with him—a kind of guilt I didn’t want to acknowledge right now. “People could live without me. My best trait is my cakes, and people can just buy those.”

“Oh, nonsense. I’ll ask Nancy, I’m sure she’ll be able to set you up with someone. You know, she used to be quite the genius matchmaker back in her day—”

“Spare me.”

“You like girls best, right? Do you have a type?”

Hell if I knew the answer to that anyway. The only person I really had on my mind was the absolute worst person to date anyway. “Still trying to figure it out. Just promise you won’t actually get Nancy on matchmaking duty finding me a wife. Or a husband. Or anything else.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” he laughed, taking the little box I’d put his cupcake in. “I’m just saying, no better use of youth than being young. Having fun and making mistakes is part of the process. Spring is the season to fall in love.”

“Spring is the season to make cake. Just like the other three. Have a great day, Anders. Tell Nancy I said hi. In a very happily-single way.”

Anders had only just left before Sam was back at the register with a 7-Up cake, and he gave me a wrinkly, creased hundred-dollar bill, counterfeit-checker pen marks already on it.

“Who in the world bought coffee with a hundred?” I said, checking it with the counterfeit pen before I shoved it into the drawer.

“Paisley. Dunno where she got it.”

“Right. Frankly, who knows why I asked. That’s all for you, Sam?”

“Yes ma’am. Hey—you have anyone you’re going to the festival with?”

I’d had enough of this conversation already. I hung my head. “Me, myself and I. The best company. Are you officially going with Jenna?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. We’re not dating or anything, not strictly. I mean, just friends. You know how it is.”

God, this guy sucked at lying. I wanted to watch him play poker. “Uh-huh. Well, I hope you two enjoy the cake.”

“Peace out, man,” he said on his way out the door, cake in hand, and I sighed.

Everyone in this town was bizarre. I liked to pretend that was why I was leaving, but I was kind of uselessly in love with the weirdest person in the entire town, so… maybe it was my weakness anyway.

I got a lull between customers after Sam left, the early-morning crowds gone, and I was in the middle of restocking cinnamon buns in the gentle quiet—music playing through the speakers, chatter and laughter from the park not far down the street, the wind murmuring in the trees along Amber Lane—when the door chimed again, and I glanced back to where Emberlynn pushed through the door, a blissful look on her features, heading for the bread racks.

Girl was late. She was usually in here in the mornings. Unfortunately, I knew all too well what it meant when she came in late in the morning smiling that happy smile. It had started when she’d gotten together with Aria, and that was really all I needed or wanted to know. Everyone in Bayview wanted Aria, and Emberlynn was pretty too, a woman on the shorter side with a bob of blonde hair and soft features that had a gentle sort of baby-face look about them, and always dressed nicely to boot, but—it didn’t matter how attractive they both were. I didn’t want to think too much about their sex life.

“Sourdough today?” I said, walking up behind her as she started for the register, and she jolted, giving me a wide-eyed look.

“Christ, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” she said. “You’re not normally lurking in the corner waiting to jump me.”

“I’m normally out on the floor restocking at this time. Not my fault you’re in late.”

“I slept in this morning.”

Sure she did. I’d learned from their next-door neighbor—and Aria’s little sister—Paisley, that they had a thing for morning sex. Poor Paisley looked like she wanted to die about the fact that she knew. Of course, it was really on her for staying up so late every night that she had to hear the morning sex from the next house over to begin with.

I went around to the other side of the counter, ringing up Emberlynn’s sourdough loaf—she came in for a loaf of bread almost every day, always a different one, and she’d base what she’d have for dinner on what bread she got. “Just the sourdough?” I said, bagging it up for her, and she leaned back, looking out the window.

“Maybe a cake? I could use your advice.”

“I’d recommend—”

“Do not just recommend the most expensive one.”

I fought back a smile, leaning over the counter, folding my arms on the wood surface. “All right, all right. So—what’s the occasion?”

“Having a little get-together tonight at the park. Kind of a picnic thing to celebrate spring.”

“Paisley’s idea?”

“It’s like you know the woman.”

“A little too well.”

She made a face. I hadn’t even meant it like that, but… well, maybe it just slipped out. I had to assume she was just wrinkling her nose at the idea of anybody knowing Paisley that way, and not that she had any idea what kind of… ways Paisley and I did know each other.

“We’re having sandwiches,” she said. “Just, you know, cold cuts, cheese, lettuce and tomato, that kind of thing. Seitan ones too for Priscilla, so her girlfriend doesn’t murder me. What do you think for a dessert?”

“Cupcakes? Might be nice to have finger food for a picnic. I have some lemon ones with whipped cream and strawberry filling I think will be a hit.”

She settled into a smile, but there was something strained about it. “You’re a genius. I’ll take them. And obviously, you’re invited. I’d assumed Paisley had already passed along the invite.”

“I haven’t actually seen her since yesterday morning when she was arguing at Hogshead.”

She rolled her eyes, a dry smile on her lips. “I’ll bet a million dollars she thinks she’s invited you and just forgot to actually do the inviting part. Probably went to do it and got distracted by cheese. Yeah, if you’re free tonight…”

“Yeah, I’m…” I chewed my lip, busying myself moving to the cake display case, traying up the cupcakes in the box. Emberlynn raised her eyebrows.

“It’s no pressure, if you’re busy. Just a casual thing.”

I really was supposed to tell her. Tell somebody. What was I going to do, up and disappear one day, and everybody would be left scratching their heads wondering where I’d gone? Emberlynn would be banging at the door to the empty place looking for her bread. And Anders needed to find a new place for mini-cupcakes, or Nancy would be devastated.

But I couldn’t. Hardly a surprise. For someone with a reputation for being blunt and saying exactly what I was thinking, I really sucked at saying what I was thinking.

“Nah, I was just thinking about my schedule,” I said. “Tonight’s all clear. I’ll be there. I’ll bring some shandies.”

“Ugh, I’ll have to tie up Paisley to keep her from shotgunning them all.”

I set down the box of cupcakes, pausing, looking at the expression she had—something tense there, just under the surface. I bit. “What’s bugging you?”

She hung her head. “Am I that obvious?”

“Nah. I just know people’s tells. It’s how I find their pain points and sell them cakes. So, spill.”

She chewed her cheek, casting her gaze to the window as thin, streaky clouds drifted overhead. “It’s kind of…”

“I won’t judge.”

“Okay, but maybe you should. I guess it boils down to that I’m a huge dumbass.”

I put my hands up. “I’m friends with Paisley. I’m used to huge dumbasses.”

She laughed, a glint in her eyes. “Okay, fair point. Um… it’s about my music. You remember that label I was with before? The one that cut me off at the last second?”

I nodded. “They screwed you over, yeah. I don’t blame you for taking a year off music production and never going near them again.”

She scratched her arm absently. “So… that’s where the dumbass part comes back in. They offered me another gig. And I took it.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Masochistic all of a sudden?”

“I guess. Hell if I know. Just…” She looked down, fussing with her wallet as she got her card out. Eventually, she mumbled just under her breath. “It’s still a huge label. It’s the highest-profile gig I’ve ever been offered. And I just… there’s tons of other producers who work with them all the time. And maybe one bad experience doesn’t mean they’re always going to be awful, you know?”

“I guess, but…” I pursed my lips. “Should I have a cake ready and waiting to comfort you if they fuck you over again?”

“No. I don’t…” She drew herself up taller, forcing in a breath, to meet my eyes. “I don’t think it’s going to go like that. I feel confident. It’s a big company. There’s more than one person there. This team I’m with is completely different from the one before. The guy—I checked—the guy who gave me the gig and then cut me off before, he’s not working at the label anymore altogether. And I know I regretted it and cursed the heavens and wished I’d never taken it, but… I want to give it another chance. Give the company another chance. Give…”

I paused. “Give yourself another chance,” I said, finally, and she nodded, her gaze dropping again.

“I guess… yeah.”

“You’re still dealing with what it did to your self-confidence last time. And you want to prove that it was a fluke.”

She let out a harsh sigh. “I guess? Maybe. That’s a generous way of looking at it. I thought maybe it was just that I was a dumbass who was easily tempted by money and recognition.”

“Can be both.” I took her card, swiped it through the machine. “You know, EM? Go for it. Give them hell. I think it’s a good idea. You know that even if they screw you over, it won’t blindside you, and that you can recover. So if this feels like something you need to do, then do it.”

She relaxed into the biggest, most relieved smile, taking her card back as I handed it over. “God, I needed to hear that. I mean, Aria said so, too, but… she’d support me with anything, no matter how harebrained. Thanks, Harps. Just please… if this goes badly, please wait for, like, at least six weeks before making fun of me for it.”

“Will do.” I pulled off the receipt, tossing it into the trash. “I’ll sign a contract and everything. But I don’t think we’ll need it. You’re going to ace it. I know you’ll come up with something good.”

“Well, yeah. I’m a genius.”

I laughed drily. “Paisley’s rubbing off on you.”

She put her hands on her hips. “She’s my best friend, we’re going to do that. Just because she wrongly thinks she’s a genius doesn’t mean I can’t know I’m a genius.”

“Yeah, yeah. I can see the similarities on rare occasions.” I handed over her bread and cupcakes, a dry smile on my lips. “You’re all set, Emberlynn. I’ll see you at the picnic, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you the updates and stuff. Thanks again.” She took them with a soft smile, taking a step back from the register. “Catch you there.”

She was a good person. A good producer, too, not to mention a good friend. I probably could have just told her. I needed to get it off my chest to somebody, before it tore me apart.

But just… not today.

I was going to miss this place. It was nice seeing what kind of bread Emberlynn came in to buy each morning.