2. Maeve

TWO

MAEVE

"What in the world is going on?" My storefront is quiet today, which wouldn't be so bad, except it was like that yesterday and the day before. Honestly, it makes no sense at all. Prime Cuts, Arrowleaf Bed and Breakfast, and a few other places are still ordering left and right. It's the foot traffic lately that has me scratching my head. The dough beneath my hands is now over-kneaded, meaning I'll have to start over. For the third time. What a waste of product.

"Damn it." I throw the dough back on my stainless-steel wheeled table. There are some days I'm here at the bakery by myself and need to keep an eye on the front, like today. The wheels allow me to have a better visual of the store and get a change of scenery while working. There are only so many television shows, music, and talking on the phone a girl can take while she bakes. Sometimes I need to watch the passersby, the hustle and bustle on the street. Not like that's been happening lately.

I move away from the table and head to the sink to wash my hands. I'm going to get down to the bottom of this craziness. Maybe I'll see if my sisters can do some digging around. I swear there is no information they can't find; it's like they work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. There's no red tape that would stop their hunt.

I finish washing my hands, dry them on my apron, and grab my phone off the counter near the register. A quick look at my screen unlocks it, then my fingers slide to our group text, hitting the camera icon to bring all three of us in on the FaceTime call.

"Hey, there's my favorite baby sister," Madison answers on the first ring. Her phone is always near her, probably due to the fact she works more than me. As a family law attorney, she eats, lives, and breathes helping others.

"I'm your only baby sister. Hi, by the way. Am I calling at a bad time?" We're still waiting on Michelle to join the call. I glance at the time and see it's late afternoon. She should be home by now. Our oldest sister is a teacher at my niece's elementary school. Michelle and her husband, Joel, wanted their daughter, Ryan, to be at the same school as Michelle. It's worked well for their little family of three. My sister has the same hours as her daughter, and they don't have to worry about a babysitter during the summer. The downfall? Well, I don't get my niece near enough these days. I know in another few years, she'll be too cool to hang with her aunt and bake cookies.

"Nope, I need a break from this case," Maddie replies.

"Hi, sorry. We're just walking through the door, and your niece needed a snack before the hangry animal appeared from this tiny human."

I snort a laugh. Ryan may act like the world is going to end when she's hungry, but we all know where she gets it from.

"Sure, blame it on the pipsqueak," I reply. Speaking of food, it's been hours upon hours since I've eaten.

"Mommy, is that Auntie Maddie and Auntie Mae?" Ryan appears on the screen. She's double-fisting a roll with what looks like ham and cheese. Today must have been a doozy for her. Fourth grade is rough. I remember it all too easily. One day you have friends, the next day you don't, and there's no rhyme or reason as to why.

"Hey, RyRy." I wave at her, grinning at the screen. I'm greeted with one in return, only it's surrounded by a mouthful of food.

"Hi, Ry, how was school?" Madison asks.

"I hate school." Oh, boy, she's lucky Nonna isn't around to hear her. Her grandmother, my mother, would be giving her the lecture. Little ladies do not say shut up , hate , or even dang when she's around.

"Go eat, then maybe your mood will change." Michelle places a kiss on the crown of her head. Ryan bounces away. While I manage to stifle my laugh, Madison does not. Our oldest sister rolls her eyes at the antics.

"The dramaaaa." I prolong the a , the back of my hand going to my forehead as I toss my head back. My sisters were practically out of the house by the time I hit my teenage years. I didn't feel left out though. They included me when they could, and now that I'm out on my own, our bond is even stronger. "Speaking of drama, I have a dilemma."

"We know." Michelle narrows her eyes at Madison. "What? Maeve only FaceTimes in the middle of the day when something's wrong." I love my sisters, the soft side of Michelle, the no-holds-barred Madison, and then there's me - somewhere in between.

"Fine, fine. I need the two of you to figure out if I've got a black stain on Whisked Away. The foot traffic is non-existent. I'm talking it's been dwindling for weeks now." I have my phone propped up against the register, my ass plopped on a stool, and I'm holding my head up with the palm of my hand.

"Really?" Michelle's face is probably a mirror image of my own, trying to figure out where I went wrong .

"When was the last time you checked your website, ad traffic, or reviews?" Madison, the logical one, goes down the list.

"My website must be fine." I shrug my shoulders. "Orders are still coming through. Clearly, the ads are working because these are new customers. So, I'm assuming they're doing okay." Madison helps me do some of the backend administration work for Whisked Away. I'm no slouch with numbers and seeing profit margins, but honestly, it's boring. And after a day of creating all day, the last thing I want to do is to look at numbers. I do enough of that with measuring, ordering, and creating recipes.

"Hmm." Michelle moves around in the kitchen, pulling down a glass from the open shelving Joel installed before taking a bottle of wine out of the fridge. How my sister can drink cold red wine, I have no idea. I'm more of a room temperature red drinker. Only crisp whites are best served cold.

"Maeve Oliver," Madison chides. None of us girls have middle names. Mom doesn't either, and Dad was more than fine not having to come up with another name to argue over.

"What?"

"When's the last time you went online and looked at your reviews?" Madison asks.

"Never. You know how I feel about reading reviews." Michelle's mouth drops open as our middle sister flips the view to her front camera. What in the actual fuck? Whisked Away is being slaughtered with one-star reviews.

"I think we may have just figured it out. The next question is how to combat this raging lunatic," Michelle says before taking a gulp of wine. God, what I wouldn't do to have a drink of my own right now.

"I'm all ears. Right now, Whisked Away is doing okay, but if things decline too much, I may have to pivot." Thank god for a padded savings account. I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the pain in my aching heart at the thought of losing the store I've put my blood, sweat, and tears into.

"Give me a few minutes. I bet it won't take me long to track this cocksucker down." Madison's mouth gets away from her when she's upset for our family.

"Auntie Maddie said a potty word!" Ryan breaks up the heaviness clogging my brain, and I couldn't be more thankful.

"She did. You're still not allowed to say it," Michelle tosses over her shoulder. "Hey, if Madison can't figure out the culprit, I bet the Johnson brothers' friend could. What's his name, Wild?"

"You mean Fletcher Wild?" I follow up her botching his name by using his last instead of his first.

"Yeah, that's him. I bet he could do you a solid," Michelle says.

"Are you questioning my abilities?" Madison interjects, which I'm glad for. Coming up with something to say when one of the Johnson brothers has basically been ignoring me has not been easy to talk about.

"No, never." Michelle rolls her eyes. We stay on the phone a few more minutes, Maddie refusing to admit defeat, and I remain hopeful, but still there's doubt lingering on my shoulder.