Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jess was in her happy place—hovering over an ice cream cake with a bag of yellow frosting in her hands. She was testing out a new design for the trim; tiny flowers made with yellow petals and edible pearls at the center. She knew it was probably excessive, but the lines at Scoops were slow and she had a few hours to kill before her shift was over and she was due at Post Road for the evening.

She sensed Melanie approaching her station, peering down at the cake but keeping enough of a distance so she wouldn't be in the way. Melanie remained silent as she watched Jess create the last little flower at the bottom right corner of the cake.

"This one is stunning, Jess," Melanie said breathlessly.

She huffed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her index finger. "Probably won't have time for something like this during the season."

"Will you make one for my birthday?"

Jess straightened, looking into Melanie's blue doe-eyes. The girl's cheeks were wet, and she watched silently as a few tears trickled down to her chin.

Jess smiled softly, and to her surprise, reached out and grabbed Melanie's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. This was going to be Melanie's first birthday without her twin brother by her side, yet the girl was insistent about having all of them over for a party next week. She kept saying she wanted to fill the day with joy, in honor of Duncan.

"Of course," Jess whispered. "Anything in particular you want?"

Melanie smiled and brushed a tear away with the back of her hand. "You're the artist, I'll let you decide."

Jess nodded, her gaze lingering out beyond The War Room and into the front of the shop, already calculating the different combinations and possibilities.

"But add something purple in there," Melanie continued. "It was…our color, on our birthday."

"Sure, I can do that."

"Jess?" Calvin asked as he trudged down the narrow staircase from the storage room upstairs.

Jess dropped her hand, frowning. "Ball?"

"Got a minute?"

She nodded, securing a plastic lid on top of the cake in front of her and carefully sliding it in the freezer. She glanced back over at Melanie and noticed Calvin had his arms wrapped tightly around her, whispering something softly in her ear. She nodded and kissed him on the cheek, then headed back to the front.

Jess crossed her arms. "What's up?"

Calvin pointed to the stairs. "Upstairs."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're about to give me another lecture about money—"

"I'm not," Calvin said. "Not a lecture. Something better, I hope."

Curious, Jess followed him up the narrow stairs and into the storage room littered with boxes of extra napkins, spoons, cups, cones, and toppings. But to her surprise, they weren't the only two up there.

Perched on top of a box was Kevin, digging into a big bowl of Black Cherry Chunk.

She scowled. "What are you doing here?"

Kevin grinned. "You know, I can't wait for the day I see you and it's a smile and a hello instead of immediate hatred."

Jess shuffled from side to side. "I don't hate you," she mumbled.

"It'd be okay if you did," he retorted. He winked at her, then looked back down at his bowl. "I like a challenge."

She shook her head and looked back at Calvin. "Care to explain what's going on?"

Calvin crossed his arms, clearly in business mode. "Jess, you know from our conversations the state of Kevin's shop and his financial predicament."

Jess swiftly glanced in Kevin's direction. He wasn't looking at her, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. For a brief moment, she felt the need to protect him from this.

She crossed her arms and glared up at Calvin. "Get to the point."

He nodded. "You said yourself that Kevin would benefit from a new way to bring in more business, and so we thought of a solution."

Jess gestured with her hands to move this tedious conversation along.

"There's a commercial kitchen in the back of the shop," Kevin chimed in. "The space used to be a café, but they closed down and then Kimmy flipped it into a bike shop. She never demoed the kitchen, though. It's still there."

Jess could feel the cadence of her heartbeat speed up as he continued.

"When I took over, I thought about taking the kitchen out to make more space for inventory, but I don't know, part of me had this crazy idea…"

Jess looked over at Calvin, who was already staring back at her, head tilted and a knowing smirk on his lips. "Crazy idea?"

Kevin's eyes remained on the empty cup of ice cream that now sat next to him. "I was in Chicago once, and I came across this bike shop that was also a coffee shop. It was absolutely slammed, so many people there, so many dogs there."

"And?" Calvin added, guiding Kevin back to his point.

"And so many delicious pastries," Kevin said, his hazel eyes now meeting hers.

She blinked once. Twice. "What are you saying?"

"That the bike shop was booming," he replied. "Mind you, it's Chicago—not Haverport. But what if my bike shop borrowed from the same model? What if it was a bike shop…and a bakery?"

Jess sucked in a breath, finally understanding what Kevin was getting at. "You want to use that kitchen to open up a bakery."

"And he wants you to run it," Calvin said.

She looked from Kevin to Calvin, then back to Kevin. "You're demented."

Kevin grinned. "Or brilliant ."

Jess rubbed her face and shook her head. "Your solution to saving your business is opening up another business ?"

"We wouldn't need to open up another business, it would all be a part of the shop," Calvin said. "We would just need to get the right licenses and permits to have a working kitchen, and an inspection, of course."

Jess crossed her arms, her mind reeling. "How are you going to afford supplies? Renovations? And I'm assuming you want coffee at this bakery as well, right? Espresso machines are not cheap."

"We have an investor who's willing to front the money to get this project going," Calvin explained.

"Who in their right mind would do that?"

The two guys looked at each other. Kevin shook his head just slightly, winning whatever silent exchange passed between the two of them.

"Fine," Jess said, deciding not to press any further. "It doesn't matter, it's your dumpster fire of an idea."

"Sixty thousand."

She looked up at Calvin, her mouth agape. "Excuse me?"

"That's what Kevin can pay you as a starting salary. It's full time, so you would have to drop Post Road. I'll allow you to work some night shifts here if you like, but no more pulling double duty every day."

Jess felt bewildered, shaking her head. "That is…absolutely insane, guys."

"We'll also have the means to hire someone part time to help you at the counter. Minimum wage is the best we can do for them, unfortunately. But hopefully tips will make up for it."

"And you'll get free rein of the menu," Kevin added, his soft eyes landing on Jess.

She stared back at him, realizing what he was offering her. The chance to have her own bakery, to be as creative as she wanted. To finally leave Post Road and Cory and his terrible business decisions for good.

But deep in her gut, she had a feeling there was more. It sounded too good to be true. "What's the catch?"

Kevin and Calvin glanced at each other again, which made her bristle with irritation.

"You have five seconds to tell me or I'm heading back downstairs."

"You have to leave him," Kevin answered softly.

Jess froze, staring up at her friend. Or a guy she thought was her friend. Because what he was asking of her was absolutely, one-hundred percent, diabolical. " Excuse me ?"

"The salary, the bakery, the freedom, it's all yours," Kevin said. "But only if you leave Charlie and move out."

It was more than her usual anger bubbling in her chest now. This was fury , the need to tear things apart and scream at the top of her lungs. How dare they dangle this in front of her just to pry their way into her relationship? What right did they have to make such a bold claim on her life?

"You'll move in with me and Gram," Calvin added, in a frustratingly calm manner. She despised him for it. "There's an extra room in the house that's all yours. Originally, I was thinking until the end of the summer, but Gram said it's yours for as long as you want. You can stay until you're comfortable finding something on your own."

"Who the fuck do you think you are demanding—"

"Jess, he's sucking you dry," Calvin said. "You're constantly paying for him for everything."

"Not everything ," she sputtered, her voice rising. "He offered to pay the rent this month."

"For what? The first time in four years?" Calvin snipped, his quiet resolve cracking slightly.

"And you're not happy," Kevin added faintly.

The fire in her belly fizzled, her anger smothering out. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes, then began her three deep breaths. Deep one in, one. Deep one out.

"Jess—" Calvin started.

"Shut up, Cal, let her finish."

Deep one in, two. Deep one out.

Deep one in, three.

She opened her eyes, feeling calmer. More like herself. With a quiet resolve, she glanced back and forth between the both of them. "You are out of your fucking mind, and you crossed a line," she said coolly. "Feel free to find another baker."

Jess turned slowly, heading for the stairs.

"I don't want anyone else, Jessica."

She turned her head, looking over at Kevin. He was now standing, like he was about to come after her. She watched him hesitate before shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "The offer stands. If you don't want it, then I won't go through with it."

"So essentially, the success of your business falls on my shoulders," she replied. "No pressure or anything."

"I can't guarantee that the bakery would save the business," Kevin added. "But you're the smartest woman I know when it comes to this stuff, and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else."

She rolled her eyes. "You've got your buddy Calvin over here. You'll be fine."

"He's got his own business to run, and he only agreed to help manage this transition so I don't have to…" He hesitated, looking down at his shoes.

"So you don't have to move back home," Jess finished for him.

He nodded, a small section of his honey-brown hair flopping in front of his eyes that were now back on her. "Please," he said softly. "Please think about it."

She gripped the railing and glanced down the stairs. "It is a good offer, but what you're asking of me is too much. I decline."

She bounded down the stairs, not daring to look back up at the face that was no longer full of sunshine. All because of her.

Jess sat on the couch, a sliver of light from their tiny back patio streaming in through the blinds, and nursed a glass of red wine. She shouldn't have bought the bottle, but after a grueling shift on the register and stocking shelves, she found herself walking out of Post Road with a bag of groceries in one hand and the cheapest bottle of wine in the other. She was halfway through the bottle now, still in her uniform, letting the sharp tannins coat her tongue as she replayed the offer over and over again in her head.

A bakery, all to herself. Even if Kevin's offer was outright absurd, she flirted with the idea of what if. What if she had her own spot, a chance to create what she wanted and actually have a say in how things were run? What if she could ditch Post Road and late-night summer shifts at Scoops for a more balanced schedule? Could she do it? Could she work side by side with Kevin every day with his constant smile and all of his frustratingly positive energy? Could she really leave Charlie behind?

Leaving felt prosperous. She was nine years in with Charlie. Nine years. She'd given up so much of herself to be with him, to live this life she wanted. Sure, things were hard right now, but relationships were never supposed to be easy. Things would get better, right?

Right?

She shook her head and took another gulp from her glass, wincing slightly at the sharp, potent taste. It wasn't anywhere near the best wine in the world, but it was doing the job. Her hands were no longer shaking in frustration. Her mind wasn't racing as quickly as it had when she looked into Kevin's eyes, watching them droop with disappointment when she refused his offer.

The front door clicked as Charlie stepped into the apartment. He was still in his work clothes, slightly rumpled from the day. He locked the door behind him and shrugged off his coat, glancing over at the couch and startling slightly.

"Is that wine? " he gawked, walking over to sit next to her. He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Got any more?"

Jess shook her head. She technically did, but she'd hidden it away. Despite the cheapness of the bottle, this was her small luxury. She wasn't in the mood to share.

"Damn," he sighed. "Could use some right now. It's been a long day."

Jess didn't respond at first, just looked up at Charlie's raven-black hair. She used to love running her hands through it, the motion always soothing whatever worries were going on in that head of his. But the desire to do so wasn't there anymore, so she swirled her wine, keeping her eyes on the glass. "He's got you working late?"

"Yeah, there was this event tonight for all the boatyard vendors. He said he needed me there to charm them."

"And I'm sure that worked," Jess said, her tone coming off flat and a little bitter.

Charlie didn't seem to notice. "It did. They were eating out of the palm of my hand."

Jess made a face, thankful that his gaze was angled toward the porch blinds.

"Jessie," he whispered. "I have to tell you something."

Her stomach turned. He still wasn't looking directly at her, but she could see the anguish on his face. Her chest tightened. "What did you do?" she snipped.

Charlie's attention snapped to her, his eyes wide. "Me? I didn't do anything, I swear."

She exhaled. "Okay, then what's going on?"

"It's about the Cape."

Feeling her hands starting to shake again, she placed her glass down on the scuffed-up coffee table in front of them. "The Cape" referred to Cape Cod, the place where they took a vacation every year. Jess…hated it. Hated that the only place she could get away to each year was another beach—a little different to Haverport, but a beach nonetheless. But Charlie's parents had a house out in Brewster, so getting to stay there, just the two of them, meant free . It wasn't her ideal vacation, but it was what they could afford. And more importantly, it was an entire week off.

But with the way Charlie was looking at her, she had a feeling her blissful week of nothing was about to get ripped out from under her feet.

"My father decided to put the house up for short-term vacation rentals this year," he started. "He says he has a lot going on here this summer and won't have the opportunity to use it. So our family is getting one week at the end of April before rentals start."

She began wringing her hands. "So…you're saying that our week will now involve the family? And it's happening next month?" It will be colder this time of year, she thought. But still lovely. And still an entire week off.

"Actually…the week will be for family, but only for immediate family members and spouses," he rushed out, looking sheepish. "And since we're not married…"

"That means I'm not invited."

Charlie simply nodded, his eyes searching Jess's face for something that she knew wasn't there. Grace. Forgiveness. Kindness. Love. She wasn't giving him any of it. Instead, she bolted up from the couch and rubbed her neck. She felt like she was on fire. She reached for her glass and downed the dregs of her wine, gripping the stem hard.

"Jessie—"

"Shut up," she demanded, not looking in his direction. "I knew they hated me, Charlie, I've known for a while now…but this? This is cruel."

"They don't hate you," he whispered, his voice hesitant. Like even he was grasping at a truth that wasn't there.

"Oh really? Tell me, how many times have I been invited to a family holiday since moving in with you? When's the last time I was over at the house, or even talked to your parents?"

He frowned. "Jessie, you know the rules—"

"Married couples only, got it," she spat. Her throat felt singed, raw, like any second she was going to open up her mouth and scorch the entire apartment. Reduce her entire life to ash. "So does this mean we'll have to go somewhere else for vacation? With our own money?"

Charlie stood up, reaching for her, but she was too quick. She snatched her hand away and stumbled a step back.

"I-I don't think I'll be able to get away this summer," he uttered. "There's a lot going on at the boatyard this year, and you know how the season can be."

"So no vacation," she said. "No week off. No nothing."

"Maybe—maybe this fall? We could get away? The house…it won't have any rentals anymore. We'll escape, just you and me."

Jess slammed her eyes shut. She knew she was probably being unreasonable. It wasn't like this was Charlie's fault. He was following what his parents wanted, and he didn't have any say on the house. The fact that they were even allowed to stay for a whole week was already generous enough.

Yet part of her wished that Charlie tried, just this once. To fight for her. To prove how much he wanted her there, a part of his family. Or at least tried to make some kind of vacation plan that was different, a new adventure that wasn't the same old routine they lived out year after year. Something that would reignite the passion in their relationship that was sputtering out day after day. She couldn't be the only one who felt it.

"Do you even want me there?" she whispered, feeling helpless. Vulnerable.

Charlie hesitated at first, his eyes wide. "Of—of course I want you there, Jessie."

"Did you tell them that?" she asked. Her voice sounded steady and lethally calm, the complete opposite of the emotions raging inside her heart.

"I—" He broke off, his sentence dying in his throat.

Jess waited for him to respond, but nothing came. His face colored in shame as he looked down at his loafers. She simply nodded, placing the empty wineglass back down on the coffee table and stepping around him. "Do yourself a favor and sleep on the couch tonight," she demanded coolly. "I have an early morning shift at Post Road so I'll be out before six."

Charlie nodded, not bothering to fight with her as Jess quietly took the stairs up to the loft, waiting for the tears to come. But after slipping on her sweats and sliding into the cool bed, her face remained dry. She let her mind drift to the methodical motion of kneading dough, the pressing and folding and pulling drifting her into a restless night of sleep.