Chapter 1

Sam

Sa

I had been at the bakery and coffee shop for way too many hours. Thankfully, I had only a little bit longer left in my shift. My friend and business partner, Andrew, should be walking in the door at any moment.

Generally, I covered the morning opening, and he covered closing. It worked out well for us. When we opened our store front for Whisk Me Away after being successful selling baked goods out of our own home, we had agreed to our schedule. In the years that we had been open, it had served us well, being that I was a morning person and he was not.

We'd chosen the name Whisk Me Away because it was a fun play on words, and also, I had a slight obsession with whisks. I collected them. I had old ones, new ones, colored ones, ones made of metal, plastic, and even glass. The collection was getting quite unruly—mostly thanks to Graham.

I checked my watch. Another person that should be walking in the door at any moment was Graham. Only I tried not to think of him too often, which was hard to do on a day that he was scheduled to come home from his latest trip—a restaurant tour of San Antonio. Last night I had read his latest blog post about his travel and the places he visited while in Texas. I was anxiously waiting for him to come home so I could see the pictures that didn't make the cut to be on his blog.

My own blog, "Whisk Me Away with Sam," would be publishing shortly or had already published, I supposed. I couldn't even remember what time I had scheduled that post to go live.

Graham might have been my brother's best friend and business partner, but the two of us grew close over the years because we both managed successful blogs. We frequently talked with each other about our strategies for growing our following and keeping our readers happy. It helped that I loved to hear about his adventures and he loved to devour my baked goods. Graham never had to know that I was actually in love with him. We certainly couldn't let my brother find that out. No one had to know. That was my secret to keep until the grave, even if it meant going to the grave completely and totally alone.

"What did that counter ever do to you?" my barista, Jane, asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been cleaning the same spot for ten minutes, and we have a crowd gathering."

I looked outside, and sure enough, it seemed that there were several people milling about just outside the doors. Were they going to come in? They better. We needed people to make purchases, not stand around.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Who knows? This town is fucking weird sometimes."

I couldn't argue with that. I'd lived here my whole life, and the town could easily be described as meddlesome. But they were supportive of the local businesses, so I couldn't complain. Whisk Me Away had been a risk for Andrew and me to open. We hadn't even graduated from college when we started the business, and the first few years had been rocky. We relied on our regulars.

Finally, a group of three of them, Miss Edna and her husband Fred, and Fred's sister, Lilianna, came inside. They had all been close friends with my Gram. Rest her soul.

"Good morning," I said. They weren't our usual customers, but they did stop in every so often. "What can I get for you?"

Miss Edna gave me a smile that had just a hint of mischief in it. "Oh, you know I'll eat anything you bake. You have any Gram's cookies?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Gram's cookies aren't on the menu," I said. I was famous for Gram's cookies. But they weren't something I sold at the bakery. They were for special occasions and for the other Graham. In fact, I had a box ready for him when he came home. He always stopped at the bakery after every trip, and I always made him a fresh batch of cookies.

"When is your friend Graham coming home?" Fred asked.

"Today," I said slowly, this conversation getting weirder by the second. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Do you know what time he's coming in? I'd love to talk to the boy if he's coming here," Edna said. The mischief was getting more and more evident. The three of them leaned in as if we were sharing a secret. There was a sparkle in her eye that told me she was meddling in something, but I didn't know what.

"I'm not sure."

"Just order some drinks and a muffin, and we'll sit down, Edna. Leave the boy alone," Lilianna said. "Graham will be here, and we'll be waiting."

Waiting? For what? Perhaps they wanted to talk with him about a trip. He and my brother, Gavin, ran a successful travel agency. Many of the locals used them to plan their vacations.

Jane took their order, and the three of them sat down at a table. I kept a close eye on them. They seemed as if they were settling in for a long stay, which made no sense since they didn't usually do that.

A steady stream of customers came in after that, all of them shooting me odd looks. Was there something in my teeth? Something I was missing? My phone buzzed incessantly, but I didn't have time to grab it. I was too busy helping fill orders. Surely if there was some sort of emergency, someone would tell me.

"Everything okay over there?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, that's just notifications from my blog. I'd know if it was text messages or phone calls."

"Must be a popular one today. What recipe did you post?"

I had drafted it a week ago, along with a few other drafts that were scheduled to go live in the coming days. I couldn't even remember what was scheduled for today. Probably cookies. I had a million cookie recipes.

"Not sure," I said. "Some sort of cookie. I've been on a cookie binge lately."

"Yes, I saw the box that you had duct-taped shut on the counter. What's up with that?"

I shot Jane a look. "You know what that is. It's so you all won't steal Graham's cookies."

She grinned. "Are those Gram's cookies or are they Graham's cookies." She didn't have to spell it out for me to know what she meant. The emphasis she placed on Graham's name was enough.

"Same thing," I said. I had a feeling Jane knew exactly how I felt about Graham, but I wasn't going to feed that beast. I was perfectly content keeping my feelings to myself. If my brother or Graham ever found out about this hopeless crush, I'd be humiliated. Unrequited crushes were not cool.

"What time's Graham coming in?" another customer asked. It was Mr. Martin, one of the retired schoolteachers.

Goodness gracious. What was it today with everyone asking me about Graham?

"Not sure," I said. "You know, you all can ask him."

"Well, he'll be here. He always stops here on his way home," Mr. Martin said.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and instead pasted on a smile. I hadn't realized that Graham's comings and goings were so highly scrutinized. "The usual for you, Mr. Martin?" He was a sucker for the cinnamon rolls and a coconut-flavored coffee.

"Do you think he's read your blog?" another person asked. At this point, the crowd had grown so large I couldn't tell who was talking to me.

"Can we form an orderly line here, everyone? What is going on today?" I asked. I couldn't tell who had ordered and who hadn't. Luckily it seemed that everyone was waiting patiently. They weren't a violent mob, just an odd one.

Jane was busy looking at her phone, though I wasn't sure why. We had a line of customers we were supposed to be helping.

"Jane. A little help here."

"Sam, you're gonna want to see this." Her voice took on a panicked edge that surprised me. Jane was calm, which was why she worked the morning rush with me. I needed calm when we were dealing with caffeine-deprived customers.

"What is it?" I said.

The bell sounded on the door, and the crowd of people parted.

"Coming through, coming through. This is my business, everyone. I need to get back here." My best friend and business partner, Andrew, finally cut through the crowd. "Sam, we have to talk."

"What's going on? What's happening?" I asked. "Is there something wrong?"

All eyes were on him, and it was suspiciously quiet. It was never this quiet in here.

"Not quite." He looked around at the group of everyone. "All of you nosy people, why don't you all shoo. Nobody say a word."

"Andrew! You can't talk to our customers like that."

Granted, these were all our regular townsfolk. We knew them pretty well. But still, we were a customer service business. We weren't rude.

"Graham's flight landed an hour ago! He should be pulling in anytime, and we want to see!" a person shouted.

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the crowd.

Was I dreaming? This was odd behavior, even for this town. Why was everyone so invested in when Graham arrived?

"See what?" I said. Somehow we had stopped the whole "checking out" process and no coffee or treats were being served. Which meant we weren't making any sales.

The bell chimed again. Only I didn't have a chance to see who it was. The crowd seemed to get quieter, though.

Andrew came to my side and gripped my arm. He spoke into my ear. "Sam, who proofread your blog that you posted today?"

My brow furrowed. "I don't know. I can't remember if I had Jane look at them or not. Why?"

"In your latest post. You mentioned Graham. A lot."

"My grandma? I always talk about her in my blog."

"Not that Gram, sweetie. Graham." His gaze bored into me, and he seemed to be saying something with just a look.

My mind flashed back to a week or so ago when I had drafted out my blogs, perhaps with a bottle of wine in hand, no glass in sight. "No, no, that was a draft. That wasn't... What did I do?" I said.

"Sam?" Graham's voice broke through the crowd, and everyone parted, so my eyes locked on him. "Did you write a blog post professing your love to me?"

Oh, fuck. No, I did not. Did I? I knew I did, but I hadn't published it…

Did I publish it?

I did the only thing I could think of. I turned around and ran out.