He never said anything else, and I didn’t, either. I had no interest in trying to rekindle something that had been broken long ago. Day in and day out, I worked at the bakery. Cooper was my only customer, and I only baked for him because my aunt had made him a promise. It was important to her to uphold that promise. I had the feeling that if I didn’t do the baking for his regular order, she’d somehow get out of bed and do it herself.
I didn’t like the idea of Hannah over-exerting herself, and so I baked.
A week before the re-opening, Beatrix and Kyle were hanging out in the front of the bakery, sipping on some smoothies I’d made. I was trying a couple of new recipes out, and they were my paid testers.
“This one’s good,” Beatrix pointed to the banana smoothie. “That one, not so much,” she said, gesturing in the general direction of the kale smoothie.
“So no veggies, huh?”
“Not a chance,” Kyle agreed. “Nobody comes to a bakery and gets a kale smoothie.”
“Yeah, at least none of the high-schoolers,” Beatrix said. “My friends want something that tastes good after school. Not something healthy.”
“That’s something a mom would drink,” Kyle said.
“Hmm, maybe I’ll leave it on the menu for the moms then. It can be called, I don’t know, the Soccer Mom Smoothie.”
They both laughed, but shook their heads.
“Trust me on this,” Beatrix said. “Ditch it.”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Maybe.”
One of the hardest things about designing a menu was figuring out how to meet the needs of all of my clients. Savored was located downtown, and it was its own little building. It sat on a street filled with shops and restaurants and was in the bustling heart of Ashton. It was close to the high school, so it was a good place for people to stop by after class and grab a muffin, but it was also close to a fitness center, a dance studio, and a few other local activities that meant people could grab a bite on their way home after a hard workout.
I had to figure out a way to make my menu appeal to everyone, but I figured that my team was right. Kale was definitely out.
“So when is your aunt coming back?” Beatrix asked. “She wants to come in and bake from time to time, right?”
Aunt Hannah had recently started asking if she could come and help out around the shop. I didn’t mind at all, but because the chemo weakened her immune system so much, we were going to have to be careful.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “She wants to, but...”
“My grandma had cancer,” Beatrix confided. “And she wasn’t allowed to be around anyone for what seemed like a million years.”
“Anyone?”
“Anyone. The doctor said that because her immune system was weakened, even a cold could kill her. We kept her on lockdown until she was done with chemo.”
“That sounds extreme,” I said.
“You do what you have to do,” Beatrix shrugged.
“I guess that’s true,” I said. “But I don’t know about Hannah. I know she wants to come bake, but the place is going to be busy. There are going to be lots of people in and out, and I don’t know if I can actually trust anyone not to cough or sneeze when they’re in here.”
“Maybe you should let her come in one day before the opening,” Kyle said. “Like, the day before.”
“Or even the day of,” Beatrix added. “She could help you prepare that morning. It could be good for her. Plus, it might make her happy to feel like she’s part of the grand opening.”
“Not a bad idea,” I said, looking at my employees.
They both just laughed. How did I get so lucky to find two teenagers who seemed so damn smart? They both had good heads on their shoulders. They were both kind-hearted and gentle. I liked them a lot.
“All right,” I said. “You should both get going.”
“We have half an hour left,” Kyle glanced at the clock.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay you for the time,” I said. “But we’re about done, so you can both take off now.”
They didn’t need to be told twice, so they both grabbed their backpacks and a couple of cookies we’d practiced decorating, and then they took off. I walked around the building one last time, locking up and looking around. How had I gotten so damn lucky to be at a place like this?
It really was wonderful. I was just getting ready to head out the back door when there was a knock at the front of the shop.
I headed back to the lobby and was a little surprised to see Cooper standing there. Why had he come to the shop? For a second, I thought about pretending I hadn’t seen him, but he waved at me, and I realized he could see into the shop better than I could see out of it. Whatever.
“What’s going on?” I asked, opening the door. I didn’t move aside to let him in. He looked tired, and his hair was messy, but it didn’t stop him from looking damn beautiful. I hated how my stomach turned, flip-flopping at the sight of him. He didn’t deserve to make me feel that way. He’d broken my heart long ago – him and Larissa both. I didn’t want to spend any more time with him than I needed to.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Okay.”
“I have a favor.”
He held up a stack of flyers. They were for a special attraction at the town fair, which was happening that weekend. I knew that Kyle and Beatrix were both going to be at the fair, but I hadn’t really planned on going. It wasn’t that I disliked fun. Not at all. I just...well, I didn’t really have a reason to go to the carnival.
“What do you want me to do with those?” I asked.
“Can I hang one in your window?”
“The shop’s closed,” I said. “Nobody’s even going to come by. We don’t officially open until next Monday.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “It would be advertising for our carnival booth.”
“Like I said, we’re closed.”
“People walk by this shop every day and peek in,” Cooper smiled, and my stomach did that annoying flip-flop thing. Shit. I thought I left those emotions behind when I was 16 and he broke my heart. Nope. Apparently, they were still there and in full swing. When I was dating Jake, I never felt that way. I never had any need to control my impulses. He’d never made me feel anything like what Cooper was making me feel.
Wild.
Young.
Scared.
“Didn’t you know that?” He asked.
“Not really.”
I’d noticed people looking in from time-to-time, but most of the time, when I was in the shop, I was focused. I wasn’t just paying attention to my work: I was forgetting about everything else outside. I played music as loud as I wanted, and I danced around, and I painted or decorated or made listened. I practiced different recipes and worked on designs. I did so many different things that didn’t involve looking outside of the shop.
Did people really look in that often?
“Well, they do,” he grinned. “Not just for you, either, although I’m sure people appreciate that view quite a bit.”
Was he complementing me?
“But people really love Hannah around here,” he continued before I could read into his comment. “Everyone thinks she’s incredible.”