I sighed heavily.
“I did not understand your response, Henlee.”
“Alexa, stop,” I muttered, opening the door and grabbing a giant bottle of prosecco.
Pouring a glass, I stuck my tongue out at the red X. Mature, right? I didn’t much care. I was exhausted, and another long day of baking was already lined up for tomorrow. Since tomorrow was Sunday, our hours were limited, but I had special orders to get ready for Monday morning. It was the beginning of June, and that was prime tourist and wedding season in Lake Pendle. If I didn’t stay on top of things, I’d crash and burn faster than a race car with three tires.
As much as I hated to admit it, without Brady, I’d be screwed. He had worked at the bakery for almost seven years now and was a talented baker in his own right. “If only he didn’t constantly call me cupcake,” I muttered, lowering myself to the couch and grabbing the remote. A glass of wine and a little bit of Netflix would relax me enough to get some sleep before heading back to the bakery at four a.m.
The doorbell rang, and I glanced at the clock. It was almost eight o’clock, and I didn’t order any food, though my brain suddenly decided that pizza would be welcome. I sighed at my glass of wine and hoisted myself off the couch. With an eye stuck to the peephole, I saw the distorted image of my best friend. She waited impatiently on the postage-stamp-sized landing at the top of the long stairway to my apartment. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by a warn nighttime breeze that rustled Amber’s hair.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the apartment.
“Nice to see you, too,” Amber said, laughing. “Nothing is wrong. I just thought I’d come over for girls’ night. Is that a problem?”
I grinned, and laughter filled my voice when I spoke. “Not a problem at all. You just usually call or text, so I was concerned. Do you want a glass of wine?” I motioned at mine sitting on the table, and Amber nodded exaggeratedly.
“You get that. I’ll order a pizza. I’m feeling prosecco and Northwoods Pizza with pepperoni and green olives.”
I gave her the thumbs-up and headed back to the kitchen for the bottle of wine and another glass. Suddenly, I was glad for the unexpected company. The loneliness building deep inside my soul was getting out of control, and I spent too much time at the bakery just to avoid being at home alone. It wasn’t healthy, but at the same time, I didn’t want to bother my friend with my issues all the time. Lord knows I have enough of them, and she had dealt with them enough over the years.
I had lived with Amber and her family for the last three years of high school. As a foster kid, I moved around a lot, but the one constant in my life had been Amber and her family. If I hadn’t found that stability during the last few years of my teen life, I might not be as successful as I am today. Amber was like a sister to me, and I knew she’d listen, but I felt like at almost thirty I should be able to be alone for more than a few hours without feeling that sinking sense of depression. Lately, that was all I was feeling.
I closed the door of the fridge, and my eye caught the red X again on the calendar. With the wine and glass in my hand, I muttered as I left the kitchen. “You don’t own me.”
The problem was, it did.
“THAT WAS AN OKAY MOVIE,” Amber said when she flicked off the television.
“If you like cheesy romance movies about coffee shops,” I agreed. “Which I do, of course.”
Amber laughed and pointed at me before refilling her wine glass. “You’ve always been a closet romantic. Hard candy coating on the outside, gooey on the inside.”
I forced myself not to roll my eyes at my best friend. “Sometimes, you have to be tough. Life can be hard.”
We sat in silence and thought about the truth behind that statement. We both knew just how hard life could be. Amber had an idyllic home life, but she suffered every day physically after an accident broke her leg, arm, and ribs. She once told me she’d take all the broken bones in the world if it meant she didn’t have to keep watching me suffer at the hands of my foster families. That’s why I know she was the one to convince her parents to become my respite foster parents. They took me in one weekend a month to give me a break from the hell I lived in the rest of the time. When her oldest sister graduated from high school, her family took me in full-time and offered a stable environment for me to heal my heart a little bit before I became a jaded adult with no direction.
Once I graduated from high school, I found my salvation in a little bakery in St. Paul. I worked there every morning while I went to school at Saint Paul College for culinary arts. After being trained in all aspects of the kitchen, my true love remained with the pastries. I used to joke that my hips and ass proved it, but the last year has stolen that phrase from my lips, too.
“I heard you made an executive decision today without consulting your partner,” Amber finally said, tapping the stem of her wine glass on her thigh.
My mind snapped back to the conversation, and I tipped my head to the side. “About?”
“Brady taking over the ordering.”
“Oh,” I said, taking another swig of wine. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, but you’re still in charge of the ordering for the front of house items. He’s only doing the kitchen side of it.”
Amber rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head slightly. “That was sarcasm, Hay-Hay. I’m not upset about it. Hell, it’s about time you started delegating a little bit of the work. If Brady knew anything about what I do up front, I would happily let him do my ordering, too, but he doesn’t. Before you know it, we’d have forty boxes of donut bags and no bakery papers.”
I grinned but hid it behind my wine glass. “Accurate. Honestly, my decision today was rash, but after a few hours of thinking about it, I can see it was necessary. I’m spread too thin right now. I’d be stupid not to utilize the talent we already have in place.”
“So you’re saying Brady is talented,” Amber joked, pointing her glass at me.
I had to bite back a smart retort because she’d take that as weakness immediately. “I’m saying Brady has worked at The Fluffy Cupcake for seven years. He can manage the added responsibility as long as he keeps his head in the game instead of thinking about his latest conquest.”
Amber grunted and waved her hand. “You have an elevated sense of how many women he actually dates. Regardless, his head is in the game.”
“It sure felt like it when he showed me the order form this afternoon. He didn’t do it exactly the way I do, but in the end, the order was correct. He even noticed things I didn’t, like how much more candy we’re going through. He also found a better price on sugar. He did some complicated mathematical equations to predict how much extra flour, butter, and eggs to have at different times of the year, too. I can’t complain about his thoroughness.”
“Well, frost my head and call me a cupcake,” Amber said, the wine making her giggle at the thought. “Haylee Davis had something nice to say about Brady Pearson.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed, holding up my finger. “I always give credit where credit is due. That doesn’t mean I’m going to date the guy.”