Chapter 42

Chapter

Forty-Two

After my tenseconversation with Tomas, I"m left feeling shaken, the weight of his offer pressing down on my shoulders like a heavy shroud. It"s all I"ve ever wanted, yet now it"s tangled up with someone I want nothing to do with. Lost in my thoughts, I don"t notice Eliza approaching until she"s right beside me.

"Everything okay?" Eliza"s eyes are narrowed with concern, her protective instincts clearly in overdrive. She knows Tomas well enough to distrust him on sight.

I exhale slowly, the words tumbling out. "He made me an offer. The patisserie we always talked about, my own place... but with him. You know I want nothing to do with him, but I still want that dream. It's so close, yet so far away."

Eliza"s expression hardens for a moment before a spark of something fierce lights up her eyes. "Let"s do it then."

I blink, confused. "Do what?"

"Let"s win this competition," she says with a determined grin. "Take the prize money and open our own place. Just you and me."

Eliza"s suggestion ignites a flicker of hope in me, but I can"t help but question her, needing to make sure she"s fully on board. "Are you sure? If we win, $25,000 is a lot of money to invest in something you might not want as badly as I do."

Her grin doesn"t falter, and she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Claire, of course I want to do it. What baker doesn"t dream of opening her own bakery? It"s not just your dream—it"s mine too. And I can"t think of anyone else I"d rather partner with."

For a moment, I"m stunned. The solution seems so simple, so perfect, I can"t believe it hadn"t occurred to me. The possibility sends a thrill through me, a burst of hopeful energy.

Eliza continues, her voice brimming with confidence, "We"ve got what it takes, Claire. We can win this and get our start-up fund right here."

Her assurance is contagious, and suddenly, I"m seeing it—my future. The vision of our bakery unfolds in my mind like a vivid watercolor painting, each detail adding depth and warmth to the picture. It"s nestled right on the edge of the beach, where the gentle hum of the waves complements the soft rustling of palm leaves. The building itself is charming, with whitewashed walls and a turquoise roof, echoing the colors of the sea and sky.

The front is adorned with large, inviting windows that flood the interior with natural light, highlighting the rustic wooden countertops and the pastel-colored stools lined up along the bar. Baskets filled with freshly baked breads, pastries, and other treats are artfully displayed, tempting anyone who walks by. The scent of coffee blends perfectly with the salty air, creating an irresistibly welcoming atmosphere.

Inside, the decor carries a nautical theme, with ropes and glass buoys as part of the light fixtures, and walls decorated with framed photos of the ocean and local beach scenes. It"s early morning, and the bakery is just opening, the golden sunlight spilling across the floor, turning everything it touches into a soft, warm gold.

Morgan is there, too. He"s part of this dream, integral to the warmth it exudes. As I hand him a steaming cup of coffee and a croissant, fresh from the oven and still warm, he smiles—that kind, soul-warming smile that feels like it"s lighting up the room. Leaning over the counter, he plants a soft, affectionate kiss on my cheek.

"Good morning, love," he says, his voice a soft rumble that fits so perfectly in our little sanctuary by the sea. His presence, so strong and reassuring, makes the bakery feel like more than just a business—it"s a home, a gathering place, a slice of our shared dream turned into reality.

This vision of the bakery, with Morgan, the beach, and the community we're building around us, fills me with a profound sense of peace and joy. It"s a life I yearn to create, a dream that I"m now determined to make a reality. With Eliza by my side and the competition ahead, every step we take is a step closer to this future. The thought of making it real, of building something beautiful not just for myself but for Morgan and our future customers, fills me with a purpose and excitement I hadn't fully grasped until now. This isn't just a bakery; it's a new beginning, a chance to craft my happiness with my own hands, one loaf of bread, one cup of coffee at a time.

Everything about the vision feels right. My heart swells with a mix of determination and joy. Eliza"s right—we can do this. We can win.

"I take that smile as a yes?" Eliza asks.

I turn back to Eliza, who"s watching me closely, with a knowing smile. Her question pulls me gently from the dream, anchoring me back to the bustling pavilion filled with the aromas of competition and the underlying notes of sea air.

"Yes," I respond, the word buoyant with hope. "Absolutely, yes. Let's win this thing and make that dream a reality."