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I wrinkle my nose and wince. “Not quite.”
She groans, throwing the towel she’s holding at my face. “You caved and went over there, didn’t you?”
I yawn again and bend over to pick up the towel. My lower regions deliciously ache. “Yes. I had to. You didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice yesterday.”
“You guys make me sick.” She laughs, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know why you just don’t move in with him.”
I perk up. “No. And don’t mention that to him.” We are in a great place right now in our relationship, I don’t need someone to mention moving in or marriage to have him freaking out again. I’m not in a rush.
She shrugs. “Whatever. You’re practically living there. You have a key and you spend the night almost every night.”
“And we’re perfect where we are.”
“Mmm-hmm. Well, he won’t wait too long to put a ring on that finger. You just watch.” I doubt it. But I’m okay with that. I know he loves me. “Mom will be here soon. She texted me when I was on my way here.”
Hearing Mila refer to Beatrice as our mom has gotten easier. But it’s still awkward calling her mom. I’ve tried. And she’s been so understanding. But I love being around her and this project has brought us closer together.
Mila follows me out of the kitchen through the cute black saloon doors. I glance around the space some might regard as too small, but it’s perfect for me. And it’s mine. A month ago, Mila and I passed by this place, the same one I saw when I was with Addison. It was still available for lease. Using some money my father left me, I decided it was time to take the next step in my new life. I deserve it.
I knot the towel in my flour coated hands. “Do you think everything looks okay?” The nerves I’ve been trying to bake out of my veins slam back into me as it’s the first time I’ve had a second to think about it.
“Are you kidding? This place is a sugar fantasy. And did you notice the crowd already lining up out there?”
What?
I rush to the front of the store. The fresh nerves freeze to ice when I peek out the door and catch a glimpse of the line down the block, wrapping around to who knows where. The few people up front who notice me wave and say hi.
Oh. My. God.
I jump inside, shutting the door quickly. “Mila, what is happening?” I tug at my side braid, staring at the five cafe tables and wonder how everyone will fit in here. She leans against the counter with a smug grin. “What did you do?”
“I might have mentioned it on the morning show.” Well, that explains the crowd. But now, I’m freaking out. I didn’t make enough for that crowd. “Annnd, I might have mentioned that Ryker will be here.”
“Mila! I didn’t make enough. And we open in two hours.” My voice rises to an almost panicked state. She peers at the glass cases filled to the max and then looks at me with an incredulous smirk.
“You have plenty. And if you run out, that only makes it more desirable. People will line up tomorrow if they don’t get something today.”
“No, they’ll leave mad.”
She shakes her head. “No. Your desserts are insanely delicious. People will be waiting in line every day to buy some. There are famous bakeries only open three hours a day and people will wait hours to get in.”
It’s my turn to give her an incredulous look. “They’re famous. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are lil' sister. It might not be for your cookies, yet, but you are famous. People will come here, just to see you.”
“That’s not what I want, though.” I throw the towel on the counter and walk to the window again to check out the line. I don’t want people mad at me.
“Aspen, you can’t change that. You have to take advantage of it.”
My stomach twists imagining the horrible things people will say about me. “That feels like I’m tricking people.”
She claps her hands a couple times, pulling my attention to her. “Are your pastries horrible?”
I stand taller in defense. “Absolutely not.” I might not be comfortable in my skin because I’m still learning about who I am, but I sure don’t question my baking ability.
I sigh, answering my own concerns. And if they come here for me and leave disappointed, I can’t help that either.
Beatrice appears from the back room, her eyes gleam with wonderment and her smile as wide as her face. She marvels at the chalkboard on the back wall displaying, in perfect print by Mila, the menu and prices. The mural behind it came out exactly as I imagined with all the flowers from Tahiti painted in pinks and turquoise and it stands out in all the white modern fixtures. The bright colors remind me of the island and where I came from. I’ve learned my life is more than a lie, it’s my story. And the island is an enormous part of that story.
