by Amy Daws
I huff at that remark. “You made a cookie monster.”
She snorts at my lame joke, which causes both of us to burst into girlie giggles. It’s hard to make the ice queen laugh so I’ll definitely cherish this moment. When we both collect ourselves again, I ask her a question that’s been niggling in my mind ever since I asked Dean not to break up with me. “Do you think I’m strong enough to do it all?”
“What? Open all these bakeries?” She arches a knowing brow. “Without a doubt. You have been training for this most of your life, and you had a great teacher.”
I smile and shake my head before correcting her line of thought. “Not just the bakeries but maybe…have a family or a husband.” Or at least a boyfriend.
“Is that what you want?” She pins me with a look venturing on hope but trying to be pragmatic at the same time.
“I’m not sure yet. I’m just pondering,” I reply, chewing my lip thoughtfully. “I sort of feel like I’ve been so hyper-focused on the bakery that I’ve missed out on some fun experiences.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to, Norah.” Her lips twitch with a pleased smile before her eyes soften on me. She reaches over and caresses my arm affectionately. “I admit I’ve been pushing to set you up for so long because I didn’t want you to have any regrets in life. Business is a wonderful accomplishment, but being a mother…it’s my greatest joy in life. But just because it’s my great joy doesn’t mean it has to be yours. I’ve underestimated you for far too long, Norah. It’s clear to me you truly know your own mind, and I’m sorry it took me so long to see that.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug her off as a weird knot forms in my throat over her praise.
“It’s not okay.” She squeezes my hand so I’m forced to look at her serious face when she adds, “I’m proud of you and all you’re doing, and I can’t wait to see your bakeries popping up all over the nation. You’re incredible. And you did it all on your own.”
She shakes her head in amazement, and tears well in my eyes. Flashbacks of my mom and me in the kitchen together flood my mind. “I couldn’t have done it without you inspiring me,” I croak, the tears spilling freely as I swipe them away. “My favorite memories as a kid are you and me baking together.”
Her lips purse, and her chin trembles. “Mine too, pumpkin.” She smiles and sniffles loudly, clearing her throat almost aggressively because Elaine Donahue does not get emotional. “And I must admit something to you that I’ve been hiding for several years now.”
“What?” I huff, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.
She side-eyes me nervously. “Those weekly boxes of croinuts I buy for your father’s office every week?”
“Yeah?”
She rubs her lips together and shakes her head. “Sometimes I never deliver them.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice rising in pitch.
“Some weeks, I keep the entire box for myself and hide them in the freezer from your father. They are sinfully addictive, Norah. That burnt vanilla, smoked caramel flavor you made one day last month…I have dreams about it.”
My belly shakes with unconcealed laughter. “Mom! You’ve been shame-eating croinuts behind my back?”
“I have.” She giggles along with me, and new tears form in her eyes from laughing. “I’m not proud.”
“You should be proud.” I sit back and see my mother in a whole new light now. “It’s kind of savage.”
We both laugh for a good long while, letting the moment fully soak in. For once, a visit from my mother isn’t leaving me a stressed-out ball of nerves. I could get used to this.
“I’m really glad you came over this morning, Mom,” I say with a contented sigh I haven’t felt in ages.
“Me too.” My mother smiles affectionately and adds, “And no matter what you decide to do with your life, you are always enough. You don’t need to have babies or get married to make me happy. I want you to do what inspires you. But I will be slightly disappointed if you never make it to Paris someday.”
“What? Why?” This is the first time my mother has acknowledged my travel dreams.
She shrugs and gets a faraway look in her eyes. “To be independent enough to pick up and travel the world is something I kind of regret not doing when I was younger. The longer you wait to do things, the harder it is.”
“You and Dad should go to Paris, Mom.” I waggle my brows excitedly at her. “It could be a perfect fortieth wedding anniversary trip. And probably easier than planning another party.”
She laughs and hits me with a sweet smile. “Maybe you’ll be able to show us around.”
“Maybe.” A strange sense of urgency pushes that plan into action. One thing my experience with Dean has taught me—I have enjoyed being a little selfish and letting loose these past few weeks. And taking a break from work hasn’t had any disastrous effects on my goals. So really, what have I been waiting for?
My mom’s hand squeezes mine again, pulling me out of my inner musings. “I just want you to be happy. If you’re happy, I’ll want for nothing.”
“Yeah right.” I narrow my eyes at her.
“I’ll try to want for nothing,” she amends with a guilty look. “Does that work?”
I nod. “You have a deal, Mom.”
We shake hands, and I almost start crying all over again when Elaine pulls me up off my chair and wraps her arms around me. The hug is only awkward for a few seconds before I sink against her shoulder and smile. My relationship with my mother has never felt more real than at this moment.
When I was little, I had one of those creepy jack-in-the-box toys that was a hit or miss when the damn thing would pop out. And today, as I head to Rise and Shine Bakery for a last-minute investor meeting Max called me about, I’m a lot like how that stupid toy made me feel. Coiled, tight, and unsure of what’s going to spring out at me when I walk in the door.
I’ve had investor meetings with Max and Norah at the bakery before. It’s common for them to keep me updated on the progress of the Denver location, and with the grand opening coming up, maybe this is a run-of-the-mill meeting. But the last-minute call is highly suspicious, especially because it’s been four days since Norah and I ended things, or rather, I ended things with Norah. And that hurt look in her eyes has been haunting me every damn minute.
I’m a fucking asshole.
It’s no wonder everything became messy. I wasn’t my normal detached self with Norah. The Dean that Norah had was completely different than the Dean I give to women like Lala. With Norah, I let my guard down too much. I spent the fucking night with her for shit’s sake, multiple times. And I laughed with her…a lot. I never laughed with those random hookups. I gave them the Dean fuckboy façade, a foolproof way to get me laid with as little attachment as possible. It wasn’t fun with them like it was with Norah. It was just what I did when I wanted to get laid.
But Norah is grown up and her own person. She’s motivated and has her own life. She wasn’t one of the flings I struggled to have conversations with. I could talk to Norah all day long. I’m not surprised she caught feelings. I caught them too.
I was just surprised she wanted to act on those feelings. I didn’t expect that. That sex we had…it was out of this world amazing…the best I ever had…but the last time wasn’t making love for me. It was goodbye.
But not goodbye forever. Just goodbye to this fake arrangement. I still want to be a part of Norah’s life. I still want to come into her bakery and flirt with her until she gets those flushed cheeks. I want to go to her grand opening and cheer on her success. The woman is a machine; she is unstoppable. I want a front row seat for that show.
But I can’t let her care about me as more than a friend. I can’t ruin her the way my dad ruined my mom. Norah has way too many dreams to accomplish without me dragging her down and fucking up her priorities.
So at today’s meeting, I’m going to remind her that I’m here as a friend and a supporter. I’m invested in not only her business but
also her future. She’s the best investment I’ve ever made.
As I enter the bakery, the familiar bell dings above my head. I see Max at a corner booth by the window. He waves me over, and I grip my laptop bag and move toward him while glancing at the counter to search for Norah. Rachael is standing with a fresh tray of croinuts she’s currently ignoring to shoot me a dirty look.
“Hey, Max,” I croak, clearing my throat and trying to drown the tension in my chest.
“Hi, Dean,” Max says and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Everything okay?” I ask as I slide into the booth across from him.
He nods crisply. “It should be. Let’s wait for Norah.” He looks past me, and his face spreads into a smile. “There she is.”
I sense her before I see her, and when I turn around, it’s like a sucker punch right to the guts. She’s dressed in a jean jacket with a yellow tank top underneath and leggings. Her hair is styled and not concealed under one of her classic rock bandanas. She looks…great. Completely unaffected by what happened between us and ready for this meeting. Maybe we can move past this after all.
“Hi guys,” she says politely as she drags a seat over from the nearby empty table. She lowers herself onto it and clasps her hands on the table, barely ghosting her eyes at me. “Thanks for making this last-minute meeting work, Dean.”
My name on her lips sends a memory of the two of us naked in bed together, and I straighten my glasses and force the memory away. “Anytime. What’s going on? Everything okay with the grand opening? Is there a construction issue?”
“No construction issues. The grand opening is right on schedule. It should be a good turnout there,” she says to the table.
“That’s good,” I reply, willing her to look up and show me those eyes so I can stop remembering them with tears. “So, what’s the meeting today for exactly?”
Norah looks over at Max and gives him a wobbly smile. “Max, you know the technical stuff we discussed, so I’ll let you take it from here.”
“Technical stuff?” I frown as Max pulls out a large manila envelope and opens it in front of me.
“Yes, well…it’s not that technical, Dean. Basically, Norah would like to buy out your investment in Rise and Shine-Denver.”
“What?” I snap, my head jerking back like I’ve just been punched. “What are you talking about?”
Max shoots me a painfully polite smile. “Norah and I met yesterday, and we went through some of her options, and she feels it’s important for her to be the sole owner of her second location.”
“She doesn’t have the capital for that,” I bark, irritation spiking in my belly at this preposterous idea.
“I’m selling my apartment,” she states firmly, and I glance over to see her staring at me with emotionless eyes. “It’s not quite worth your full investment, but my accountant thinks I can swing a loan for the rest.”
“Your accountant?” I growl, losing all manner of professionalism. “Let me guess…Douche Convertible?”
She blinks rapidly. “Nate, you mean? Yes, we had a meeting yesterday, and he thinks this is something I’m able to do.”
I scoff at the idea that she met with that asshole after what happened at dinner last week. How the hell has she not fired him for the shit he said? I lick my lips and pin her with a look. “So, you’re not going to have a Boulder residence at all anymore?” I ask, my tone acidic.
“It’s really none of your business,” Norah quips, and her entire demeanor is giving me serious Elaine Donahue vibes.
“This is a joke.” I redirect my anger to Max. “Why are you okay with this, Max? She needed my investment to help launch her franchise.”
“We’re delaying the franchise plans for now.”
“What?” I exclaim and yank my glasses off to gape at him. “What the hell are you doing, Max? You’re her franchise director. You should be consulting her better than this.”
“Norah is my client, and I’m acting in the best interest of my client. She’s still proceeding with the franchise plan…just delaying it for…reasons.”
“What kind of reasons?”
“I’m going to Paris if you must know,” Norah bites, her voice wavering as she tilts her head and pins me with a fierce look like she’s going to claw my face out. “Once the Denver location is up and running, I’m going to take some time and stay with my friend from culinary school and do a little traveling. I want to have some fun and come back fully inspired before I launch.”
“But why now?” I groan, running a hand through my hair. “You’ve been working on this franchise for over a year. You’ve been dreaming about it for even longer. This is everything you wanted, and it’s ready. Why delay now? Because of me? Because of what happened between us?” I ask, not able to hold up the pretenses of a business meeting any longer.
“This isn’t about you, Dean,” she volleys back, her nostrils flaring. “I’ve made a pros and cons list over all of this, and I have a solid plan. And now that I don’t need working capital for the franchise right away, I can own the bakery outright with no partner.”
“But I’m a silent partner.”
“Not silent enough.” She turns her gaze to stare out the window, looking stiff and hard and nothing like the warm, ball-busting Norah I’ve grown to know these past couple of years.
I reach out to touch her hand, and she recoils like I’ve burned her. “You can’t do this, Norah.”
“Actually, she can.” Max winces and pushes the original contract I signed over to me. “It was a part of the agreement that she could buy you out at any time as long as it’s a fair offer both parties agree upon. You initialed here.”
I don’t bother looking at the contract because I don’t care what she’s offering. “I know she can do this, but she shouldn’t. There was a reason she sought outside investment. The interest rate she’ll pay on a loan to buy me out has to be through the roof.”
“It’s terrible,” she huffs out a laugh.
“Then don’t do it.” My tone is venturing on begging, but I can’t help myself. The idea of not being a part of Norah’s life in this way kills me.
She shakes her head and pins me with emotionless eyes. “I learned the hard way not to mix business with pleasure once. I won’t do that again.”
She stands. “Max, I’ll let you iron out the final terms.”
“Norah,” I call out, but she ignores me as she walks away without a second glance.
I turn to Max and shake my head. “This is fucked up, Max.”
“It’s what she wants, Dean.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Max snaps, his eyes narrowing at me. “I realize something must have happened between you two and your stupid arrangement, which I could have told you was a bad idea…but the truth is, she has more business sense in her little finger than every client you have in your hedge fund. Buying you out and owning two bakeries is a lot, but she has a great product and a plan for more great products. She can handle this.”
“I know she can handle this, but I hate she’s delaying her franchise plans. You know she’s ready.”
Max shakes his head. “If she wants to travel for inspiration, it’s better she does it now than before she starts opening up all over the States. This isn’t a bad idea. There’s no rush for her franchise. She can have her croinut and eat it too.” He shoves the contract in front of me and clicks his pen. “Just sign her offer here. It’s a good offer. You’re an investment man, and this is a great return on investment. It’s a win-win.”
“No offer will be good enough.” I growl and shove the papers back at him.
“Dean,” Max seethes, his voice taking on a harsh tone I rarely hear from him. “Just make this easy on me, please. I have to interview nannies after this because Everly’s mom just informed me she has to work overseas this winter, and I seriously don’t need to be chasing you down right now.”
My brows furrow at that admission. “You
need a nanny? Isn’t Everly old enough to be home alone?”
“No way,” Max scoffs. “You know my crazy hours. I kill myself to clear out the days she’s not with her mom, so having her every day and night will be a huge adjustment, and I’ll need help. A lot of help. And the owner of this nanny agency is not making this process easy. That woman wears on my last nerve.”
“I’m sorry, Max,” I reply lamely because this is so not my area of expertise.
“It’s not your problem.” He waves me off and pushes the contract toward me again. “Just take this off my list, please?”
“I can’t do that.” I slide out of the booth, my entire body suddenly feeling very weak at everything changing all around me. I went from having it all to having nothing in the blink of an eye, and this isn’t what I want. Not by a long shot. “Norah was a good investment, and that’s the one I want. End of story.”
“Dean, come on.” Max holds his hands out helplessly. “You have to at least negotiate with me. Give me a counteroffer I can discuss with her. You owe her that much.”
I glare at him and resist the urge to punch him in the nose but instead reply, “I need to think about it.”
Max purses his lips. “Just try to hurry. She wanted this buttoned up before the opening in two days.”
“Things like this can’t be rushed, Max.” I turn and walk out, knowing that I don’t want to lose my investment in Norah’s bakery. If I lose that, I lose her, and I’m not ready to lose her.
My phone trills as I send off an email confirming my television interview timeslot for Saturday morning. I see it’s Nate’s name on the caller ID and begrudgingly answer, “Hello?”
“Hey, how did your meeting go today?”
I sigh heavily. “Okay, Max says he’s countering, though.”
“I’m not surprised,” Nate huffs.
“It’s annoying, but hopefully he comes back to Max with something soon. I want this over.”
“You sound stressed,” Nate says and clears his voice before stammering, “Do you w-want to maybe meet for a drink?”