Baker's Dozen

by Lori R. Taylor

The waitress was gone again as soon as he’d said it.

  “I hope it’s nothing too serious. I’ll let you in on a secret, Maeve. I didn’t have the best night. I spent it in the bathroom.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He waved a hand. “The hazards of judging a baking contest.”

  “That’s kind of what I asked you here to talk about.” She took a breath. “Yesterday, you announced that the winner of the contest was Jassie St. Clair with her carob-chip cookies.”

  “They were delicious.” He grinned.

  “I’m positive they were. This is my dog, Baker.”

  “Hi, Baker.” He waved at her, and she wagged her tail, once. She was still a bit timid, and Maeve didn’t blame her for not being enthusiastic about meeting strangers. She wasn’t about to go petting random dogs on the street, either.

  “She ate some of the carob-chip cookies at the contest yesterday. And she got very ill.”

  Arthur frowned. “We had dogs growing up, and we often fed them carob treats.”

  Maeve retrieved a piece of paper from her tote bag — a report from Dr. Dale — and set it on the table for Arthur to read.

  He glanced at it and his eyebrows went up. “Oh no.”

  “Jassie cheated by using dark chocolate instead of carob, and Baker almost died because of it,” she explained, then held her breath.

  Arthur was silent as he read. Finally, he withdrew his cellphone from his pocket and stood. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, Maeve.”

  The waitress came back with his coffee, and Maeve ordered a refill. She needed as much caffeine as possible to get through this. What if he didn’t believe her, thought she was trying to weasel her way into first place?

  She didn’t expect anything out of this; she’d already been disqualified for leaving early. She wasn’t going to beg him for special treatment, she just wanted to see justice done for Baker. Cheating was cheating. Jassie didn’t deserve to win.

  Maeve bent and patted Baker on the head, then took a sip of her coffee.

  Finally, Arthur came back to the table and took his seat. “Well, that settles it.”

  “Settles what?”

  “I’ve spoken with the other judges as well as the board members.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee that seemed to last forever. “Cheating is unacceptable and doesn’t agree with our brand. Jassie’s entry has been disqualified. And you, Maeve, have been chosen as our new contest winner. Congratulations.”

  She gasped.

  Baker barked.

  “Are you serious?”

  “We’ll do a new awards ceremony tomorrow and hand over your check. Jassie only won because two of the other judges were insistent on her cookies. I wasn’t as convinced. Thought they were too simple.” He grimaced. “Also, at the time I didn’t realize she was the one who’d poisoned me. I’m allergic to chocolate.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.” Tears of joy sprang to her eyes. She rose from her chair. Baker barked again, and Maeve bent down and drew her into her arms. “We’ve done it, Baker. We’re going to have our own bakery.”

  “That’s what you’re going to do with the prize money?” Arthur asked.

  “It’s always been my dream, but I haven’t been able to scrape up enough to get started.”

  “Then it seems like we’ve chosen the right winner. This time around.” He tapped his chin. “Maybe you and I should talk about additional opportunities. There’s potential for a joint venture once you’re all set up. You’re officially a product line ambassador now.”

  Tears dripped down Maeve’s cheeks. Baker licked one of them off. She laughed and hugged her tight.

  She couldn’t believe it.

  Her own bakery.

  No, not hers. Theirs.

  Because what was the point of a dream come true without someone to share it with?

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Barking Mad Bakery sat smack dab in the middle of the Logan’s Creek shopping center, right next to Pretty Paws, in the space where that terrible pizzeria used to be. Needless to say, Maeve’s complaints about the barking from the shelter were nonexistent. Taking this place had been the best idea she’d ever had, except maybe for her fresh concept: a bakery that served healthy treats to both humans and dogs.

  That meant no chocolate was allowed on the premises, and owners could come in with their mutts and park their butts on the chairs or in playpens with their animals.

  It had gotten easier and easier for her to be around dogs, thanks to Baker, and to the occasional bouts of play-fighting from Macavity, who had now taken to pouncing on the dog while she slept just to give them both a shock.

  Maeve stood in the center of her bakery, hands on her hips and a grin parting her lips. The barking of happy dogs, the laughter of happy dog-lovers, and the smells of freshly-baked goodies hung in the air. And Baker stood beside her, leaning a little into her leg, lending her support, same as always.

  This was exactly what I’d always wanted, even though I’d never imagined it quite like this.

  “Maeve? It’s almost time,” Emma called from behind the counter. She’d started working at the bakery a few weeks ago, and was a total natural at handling the dogs and people who swept in and out. The customers liked her as much as Maeve did.

  “Okay, coming!” Maeve hurried back behind the counter. “Where are they?”

  “One sec.” Emma finished ringing up a customer on our bronze cash register — vintage, from the antique store a few spaces down.

  “All right, here.” Emma bent and lifted the treats on their tray. “Doggy cupcakes. No sugar, no fat, no chocolate, extra bacon.”

  “Thanks.” Maeve took the tray. “Look after the place for me while I’m gone?”

  “Yeah, I’ll try not to burn it down or anything.” Emma stuck her tongue out at her.

  She whistled to Baker as she hurried toward the bakery's open doors; the dog hopped up and followed her out. Maeve had enrolled them in Leslie’s training course earlier this year, so they could learn how to communicate with each other.

  Now, Baker barely needed a leash except when they were out walking together. Or when Maeve was nervous about it being too dark out, or about taking Baker near a busy street.

  They took a sharp left and arrived directly in front of the Pretty Paws shelter’s front door. Baker wasn’t nervous about coming back here anymore. After six months of stopping by to drop off free treats for the pups, she’d come to understand that they were only visiting and that Maeve would never give her up.

  Once she’d figured that out, she seemed to look forward to it. She’d go from cage to cage as Maeve delivered treats to each resident, and she could swear Baker was comforting some of them.

  By the time they were done, the ones who’d been the most frightened were calmer, and the ones who’d been the most excited were … also calmer. But in a happy way.

  Baker nudged the door open with her nose, and they entered together.

  Leslie stood behind the front desk, rifling through the mail, a frown creasing her forehead. But when she looked up, her expression transformed.

  “Maeve,” she said, grinning. “It’s great to see you again. And Baker.”

  She came around the counter and bent low, extending a hand.

  Baker put her paw in Leslie’s palm for a shake — she was the only other human Baker seemed to bond with and trust.

  “More treats?” Leslie asked.

  “For the dogs.” Maeve winked. “But I was hoping you’d stop by later on. I’m having a ‘family’ get-together.”

  That meant having Emma over for a movie night.

  “That sounds great. If I can get all my work done before too late, I’ll swing by.”

  Maeve set the treats down. “So, how have you been?”

  “Oh good, good. Just the usual. Busy with the shelter. But I was wondering if you’d heard the news?”

  “You’ll have to tell me first. What is it
?”

  “Apparently, that, uh, ex of yours? David?”

  “I’m familiar with him, yeah,” she said, and pulled a face. In truth, Maeve didn’t have any hard feelings about him anymore. He was just some guy who’d broken her heart. The love she’d found — with her friends, her customers, and most of all, with Baker — was so much stronger than anything she had ever had with him.

  “Apparently, David has moved to Norway.”

  Um. “Okay.”

  “Yeah, Clara mentioned it the other day when she was in here. They were thinking about adopting, but she came in to let me know that David had left her. Some huge job opportunity. No idea what it was, and I didn’t ask.”

  “Poor Clara.” Maeve didn’t exactly like David’s model girlfriend, but she knew how it felt. David would do what he wanted — whatever he thought was best for himself. “But that’s good news for me. I got sick of running into him around town.”

  “Didn’t we all?” Leslie sighed. “The only reason I mention it is because, well, they didn’t strike me as being the best animal owners. I was going to reject their application anyway. I have to do what’s right for the—”

  Three swift barks rang out, and a dog rushed out from the back passage of the shelter. A flash of what happened over two years ago — the black dog biting Baker, then her turning on Maeve — came back, and she put her arms out.

  But this dog, a Dalmatian, didn’t attack. It bounced into the room, ears flopping. It dropped low, sticking its spotted butt in the air, and wagged its tail at Baker.

  Baker barked back and wagged her tail, albeit tentatively.

  “Who’s this?” Maeve asked.

  “Charlie,” Leslie said. “He’s been … an education in patience since he arrived. All he wants to do is run and play. Doesn’t know when to stop.”

  Charlie barked and hopped in circles, then ran toward the counter where Maeve had set the treats. He jumped up, and Leslie barely managed to lift them out of range in time. “Eliza! Can you get up here and help out? Charlie’s out again.”

  “We’ll leave you to it,” Maeve said.

  Maeve whistled to Baker and went back to the bakery, making sure to close the Pretty Paws front door, just in case Charlie tried making a break for his freedom.

  She patted Baker on her head before joining Emma behind the counter.

  “You’ll never guess who came in while you were gone.”

  “The pope? Queen Elizabeth? Margaret Thatcher?”

  “Jassie St. Clair.”

  “She must’ve been lost.” Jassie still lived in town, but after her embarrassing disqualification from the HealthNut competition, she’d kept mostly to herself. It had been a delightful two years — Maeve hadn’t run into her once.

  “She bought a treat. Can you believe it? And she asked to speak with you.” Emma licked her lips. “I don’t know, but I think she might want to apologize.”

  “Or lure me into some sort of elaborate trap.”

  Emma snorted. “Is it weird that I wouldn’t put it past her?”

  “She nearly killed Baker. If Jassie wants to apologize to someone, that’s who she can apologize to.”

  “But what if she—”

  “I don’t really care. She belongs in the past, along with all the other things I just can’t care about anymore.”

  Her future was way too bright to be worrying about Jassie St. Clair.

  Maeve and Emma spent the day baking and serving treats. Baker played with some of the customers’ dogs when she wasn’t hanging around the register. As Maeve measured and mixed and kneaded, she sang a sweet song under her breath.

  This was the life she was meant to live. This was the bakery she’d always wanted.

  She only had it now thanks to one special dog.

  At the end of a rewardingly-long day, she rounded the counter and drew Baker into a hug.

  “Come on, girl,” Maeve said, kissing her on the head. “It’s time to go home.”

  What to read next…

  When she needed a hand, she found a paw.

  Struggling to finish her veterinary tech training and mourning the loss of her fiancée, Tessa wasn’t exactly looking for a dog, but Princess found her anyway.

  Get Reign of Terror today!

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading Baker’s Dozen.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a review of it on your favorite bookseller so other readers might enjoy it too. Just a couple of sentences. That would mean a lot to me.

  Thank you!

  Lori R. Taylor

  About the author

  Lori R. Taylor is the founder of TruDog, a lover of all animals, and author of the Soul Mutts series. It’s her mission, vision, and passion to help humans understand the ways in which our canine friends make the world a better place. Lori’s been helping to build businesses all her life, but her work at TruDog made her remember a dream she’d had forever.

  She had always wanted to be a writer, and TruDog proved what Lori had always known. Not just that dogs made the world a better place, because of course they did, but that humans needed them more than they could ever possibly know.

  In addition to her work with TruDog, Lori has helped to raise over 5 billion dollars for the Disabled American Veterans. She’s not just an animal lover, Lori has a soft spot for unwanted or “broken” things and is their fiercest defender. Just ask Truman, the three-legged Great Dane that TruDog was named after.

  As a little girl Lori dreamed of telling stories. She did that for brands for years. Now she’s doing it like she’s always wanted to, for you and with this series. Lori wrote Soul Mutts for you. Books to remind you of what you already know, but can’t wait to feel again.