by Fiona Grace
“Me?” she asked.
“You, me, and every vendor on the boardwalk,” Emilio replied dramatically.
Ali was stumped. What could possibly have happened that affected every vendor? A power-outage? Backed up sewage pipes? Her mind began to swirl with thoughts.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“It’s Sullivan,” Emilio said.
Sullivan Raine, a Texan property mogul, had recently arrived in the bay. He’d wasted no time buying up land, houses, and stores, transforming the landscape with his new developments. The local business owners had mixed feelings about him. Some appreciated the increase in families and customers. Others would prefer their town to stay the way it was.
“Is this about the steak house?” Ali asked. “I heard he had plans to bring his franchise to Willow Bay.”
Emilio shook his head. “It’s worse. It’s his friend, the councilman. He’s been voted in.”
“Marvin Chessley?” Ali exclaimed, suddenly remembering the grave warning she’d received about the man not that long ago. “He got in?”
It had only been a few weeks since she’d heard the rumors about Sullivan Raine’s councilman buddy, Marvin Chessley, coming to Willow Bay to oppose one of the town’s long-standing, rarely-challenged council member seats. Ali, like everyone else in town it seemed, had given it less thought than they ought to, and now Marvin Chessley had won the seat. When it came to Mr. Raine the property developer and his expansionary vision for their town, everything seemed to move very quickly and very aggressively, and it left Ali with a sense of foreboding.
By the expression in Emilio’s eyes, it appeared he shared the same sense of dread as Ali.
“He got in,” he confirmed with a nod. “And he’s already proposed his first bill.”
Ali grimaced. This was not going to be good news. She braced herself. “What is it?”
“It’s a tax increase on the boardwalk eateries,” Emilio said with a pained exhalation. “Increases we can’t afford.”
Ali gasped. “Oh no!” Then she shook her head. “But a bill like that won’t pass, will it? Half the vendors are eateries, and they won’t stand for it.”
“There are more vendors off the boardwalk than on it,” Emilio explained. “And they have always been annoyed that they pay the same taxes as us, considering the boardwalk is advertised by the council tourist board and brings us all that passing traffic for free. They won’t be on our side.”
“So they’ll vote against us?” Ali replied, shaking her head. “How petulant.”
Emilio nodded ruefully. “That’s how people are,” he said with a sigh. “I’d better go and tell Marco,” he said.
“Good luck,” Ali replied.
As Emilio headed off to his twin’s pizzeria, Ali drove the short distance to the parking lot behind her apartment, turning his news over and over in her head.
Seaside Sweets was popular, but it was also new, and she hadn’t really turned much of a profit yet. With all the new launches and Piper’s salary, she was on a thin margin, and only just treading the line. A tax hike could push her over the edge. She could end up bankrupt. Even with the success of her new cookie range, she still might fold.
She parked and Scruff leapt out of the car after her. He followed her as she headed back on foot toward the bakery, still nervously ruminating on all the terrible ways the tax hike may impact her. At least she’d missed the afternoon lunch time rush. That meant she’d be able to hide out back in her kitchen and engross herself in the meditative, therapeutic act of baking, which was really the only technique she had for processing her thoughts.
She reached the door and paused. “Thanks for being my sidekick today,” she told Scruffy. “But I have to work now.”
He yipped, as if in understanding, then trotted away off the boardwalk, in search of tourists to charm into giving him scraps.
Ali’s smile faded as she watched him disappear, her thoughts returning to the tax hike like a big black cloud forming in her mind. She was so lost in her thoughts—not to mention still shaken up about what happened in Wave Bay with her dad—she wasn’t fully present as she entered the store. Up ahead, Piper was talking to a woman at the counter dressed in a two-piece beige dress suit and nude heels.
Ali passed them, heading for the hatch and the sanctuary of her kitchen— where she could straighten out her thoughts before they completely overwhelmed her—when she heard the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat.
“Is that really how you treat your mother?” said a thin, critical voice.
Ali froze in her tracks and whirled on the spot. That wasn’t any random customer in a two-piece beige dress suit waiting at the till. It was her mother!
CHAPTER FIVE
“Mom?” Ali cried, stunned.
She rushed up to her mother and flung her arms around her.
Georgia Sweet hugged her back, then disengaged herself from her daughter’s arms, and patted a hand against her newsreader-esque, bouffant hairstyle to make sure it was still in place. Ali had inherited Georgia’s thick, dark blonde hair, and her decision to style it completely differently had always been a source of disagreement between them. Georgia made it very known that thick hair ought to be styled, and that wearing it in a messy side braid was particularly egregious. And that was before she even got started on the state of Ali’s nails. Georgia would never be seen outside the house with anything less than a perfect French manicure. Ali, on the other hand, had to keep her nails short for work. She’d lost count of the number of times her mom had told her how pretty her hands could’ve been if she’d chosen a sensible career like Hannah had.
“Hello darling,” she said.
“What are you doing here?” Ali asked. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until the weekend. You’re three days early!” As the words rolled off her tongue, she remembered just how packed her schedule was for the rest of the week—something she’d done purposefully, bunching everything together so she could keep her weekend free for her mother’s visit. But now that her mom had come early, how was she going to be able to fit everything in and still make time to see her? It would be impossible! She’d be lucky if she even found the time to squeeze in a dinner date.
Her stomach began to roll nervously as she realized she’d have to break it to her mom that she couldn’t drop her pre-organized work commitments for her.
Georgia ran her fingers along her pearl necklace. “I didn’t want you to make a big fuss over me.”
Ali narrowed her eyes with skepticism. Her mother’s explanation didn’t make much sense to her. There was surely more to the story. Knowing how her mother seemed convinced Seaside Sweets was doomed to failure, she was probably here to assess the bakery in its true form, rather than allow Ali the chance to put on any airs and graces. It was like getting an impromptu visit from the health inspector.
Well, if that was the case, it didn’t matter to Ali. She was proud of her bakery. She didn’t need time to prepare it for her mother; it was perfect just as it was.
“Then let me give you a taste tour,” she said confidently, puffing up her chest. Once her mother tasted her delicacies, surely it would quell all her concerns! “Would you like to try the macarons, cookies, or cupcakes first?”
Georgia Sweet wrinkled her nose. “Darling, I don’t want to try anything. I’m on a diet.” She patted her completely flat stomach.
“Come on, Mom,” Ali cajoled. “One bite won’t hurt.”
Georgia waved a dismissive hand. “One bite becomes two, Allison. Then before you know it, you weigh six hundred pounds and have to get the fire department to lift you out of your house on a crane.”
Ali rolled her eyes. Teddy wasn’t the only one in the family with a flair for the dramatic.
“Well,” Ali said, sneakily, “Perhaps you’d like to try one of the sugar-free cookies? I realized about a week after opening the bakery that about half the population of Willow Bay is on a carb free diet, so I created these.”
&
nbsp; Georgia Sweet cast a wary glance at the slightly gray colored sugar-free version of Ali’s otherwise super sweet cookies. “I think I’ll pass.”
Ali paused. It occurred to her that her mom wasn’t refusing the cookies because she was watching her figure. If that were the case, then she’d be excited to know Ali had created a treat she could enjoy guilt-free. She just didn’t want to sample anything Ali had made.
A huge feeling of disappointment overcame Ali. Her day was really shaping up to be quite terrible…
“How did it go with your da—” Piper began, only to be cut off by the sternest glare Ali could muster.
“With your what?” Georgia asked, narrowing her eyes with curiosity.
“Danishes!” Ali blurted, thinking fast. The last thing she needed right now was her mom to know she’d been on the hunt for her father. Their breakup was so bad; Georgia didn’t even like hearing Richard’s name. If she didn’t approve of her sugar-free cookies, she definitely wouldn’t approve of her search. “I just got back from a market research focus group.” The words rolled off her tongue quickly, and she was quite glad for how quickly her brain had conjured them. “—I’ll tell you all about it later,” she added to Piper.
Luckily, Georgia dropped it. She was too busy peering snootily around at the bakery. “It’s not very busy in here, is it?” she said. “Is it always this quiet?”
“We get a lull after lunch,” Ali said.
Georgia pursed her lips. “Darling, there’s a lull, and then there’s dead. It’s like a funeral home in here.”
Ali clenched her jaw. “Oh look, there’s someone now.”
The bell over the door tinkled as someone rushed inside. It took Ali a moment to realize it wasn’t a customer, but her friend Delaney from the craft store. She was wearing a pretty silk sarong skirt and lace up Gladiator sandals. Gold jewelry complemented her tanned skin and golden blonde hair.
Ali brightened immediately. It was impossible not to love Delaney. She was such a bright, positive person; she would surely be able to crack Georgia Sweet’s hard exterior.
Delaney elegantly weaved through the tables toward them, bringing her smoky incense smell with her. Ali noticed she was holding something tucked under her arm.
“Ali!” Delaney cried, waving her arm enthusiastically over her head.
“Hi,” Ali grinned in reply. She quickly embraced her friend, then let go and gestured to her mom. “Delaney, this is my mom.”
“Oh!” Delaney cried, her smile lighting up. “I didn’t think you were coming until the weekend.” She hugged Georgia, to the woman’s evident distaste.
“Who are you?” Georgia Sweet said thinly.
“Oh!” Delaney exclaimed. “Sorry. I’m Delaney. I’m Ali’s friend. And yoga teacher. And I draw the cartoons.” She grinned, pointing at the cute cartoon characters on the menu and signs that Georgia had already turned her nose up at.
“Delaney's basically an all-round great person,” Ali gushed. If her mom didn’t approve of her, then at the very least she could approve of her taste in friends!
“Speaking of cartoons,” Delaney said, looking at Ali as she removed the thing from under her arm, “I have a present for you.”
She thrust both hands forward, presenting the object to Ali. It was a coloring book.
“What is this?” Ali asked, confused, as she took it from her.
“Look inside,” Delaney said with a grin.
Ali flipped open the first page. Straight away she saw Mr. Macaron, the mascot Delaney had created for her for the sign outside.
Ali gasped. “Wait. You made this?”
Delaney nodded. “I did. I figured we could make a few and sell them as merchandise.”
“Wow!” Ali cried “Delaney, this is so great.”
She flipped to the next page. There was Countess Cookie, the villain, with her sidekick dog, Cuppycake. Ali was thrilled. Trust Delaney to come up with such a fun idea!
She looked at her mom. “Isn’t this great, Mom?” she asked hopefully. “Delaney’s made some merchandise to sell at the store. The kids are going to love it.”
But Georgia did not look impressed. “It’s not exactly the cookbook you dreamed of writing, is it?” she said. “You remember, the one you wanted to create as the protégé of Milo Baptiste?”
Ali pouted. Her mom always talked about the French pastry chef Ali had spent a year working with in France. But that was a long time ago now, and Ali had moved on to greener pastures. She’d really found her niche with the bakery. It didn’t mean her experience with Milo Baptiste was a waste—indeed, the reason she wanted to launch the new Danishes was to flex those old culinary skills she’d learned while working under him. But she lost the confidence to stand up for herself, and for Delaney’s cool idea. The judgement coming off her mom was tangible.
So Ali tempered her excitement and handed the coloring book back to Delaney. “I’m sure the kids will love it.”
She earned herself a bemused frown from her friend and squirmed. She knew Delaney meant for the book to be sold at the bakery rather than Little Bits of This and That, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to bicker with her mom over it. Georgia Sweet had been here all of five minutes and already Ali could feel herself regressing to her childhood self, needing her mother’s approval and wanting to please her.
Delaney seemed to understand. “Perhaps we can discuss it another time?” she said, looking lackluster.
“Great,” Ali replied. “We were just heading out.”
“Were we?” Georgia said.
“You want the tour of the town, don’t you?” Ali said, forcing out a bright tone that did not match how she felt.
It was all becoming a bit oppressive, and Ali really did not want an argument.
“Well, if you say so,” Georgia replied. “Goodbye Delaney. Goodbye Piper.”
She waved as Ali took her by the arms and steered her to the exit.
As they headed out of the bakery, Ali breathed a sigh of relief. The boardwalk wasn’t as personal to her as the bakery, and she was confident there was nothing Georgia Sweet could say about it to hurt her feelings.
CHAPTER SIX
“Watch out, Ali,” Georgia Sweet said. “There’s a stray coming right for you. It might have rabies.”
They were strolling along the boardwalk, and Scruff was beelining right for them.
“That’s Scruffy,” Ali told her mother. “He’s harmless.”
As her mother’s expression twisted into disgust, Ali bent down and petted Scruff. “Sorry, Li’l Dude,” she explained. “No more Jumbo bones for you, today. That last one was expensive!”
Scruff twitched his eyebrows with a perplexed expression, and Georgia huffed loudly.
“Oh Ali,” she said with exasperation. “Please don’t tell me you feed this creature? You haven’t changed a bit since you were a girl, have you? Always taking in every injured critter you found. It had a certain sweetness about it when you were little, but you’re a grown woman now. You know full well you should be calling the pound to have it euthanized, not feeding it!”
Scruff pulled a face and began to snarl. Ali ruffled his fur to apologize for her mother’s harsh words.
“Two Jumbo bones,” Ali whispered to Scruff. “Next time I see you, I’ll give you two. Just wait until my mom’s gone. Okay?”
Scruff blinked several times, his head tipped to the side. Then, seemingly understanding the conditions of the deal, he barked a farewell and trotted off.
Ali sighed with relief and stood up again.
“It’s funny how every place has its own smell,” Georgia Sweet said, already onto the next thing to criticize. Though she’d said her comment with a pleasant enough tone, her nose was crinkled with disgust. “And what an awful lot of seagulls...,” she added, glancing disconcertedly at a cluster of gulls pecking at dropped crumbs around a bench.
“They are a menace,” Ali conceded. “But they’re the only bad thing about Willow Bay.”
Georgia put a hand up to her brow to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. “Well, that and the lack of shade,” she murmured, glowering up at the sun as if its presence was personally offensive to her. “There really ought to be some trees for shade.”
“Maybe they don’t plant trees, so the seagulls have less places to settle,” Ali offered.
Georgia tutted. “How silly. Older people like me tire easily in this kind of heat.”
“I’ll be sure to bring it up with the councilman,” Ali replied in the sort of tone Teddy would instantly understand as sarcasm, but which went straight over her mother’s head.
“Good,” Georgia said, decisively. “It’s quite the oversight, if you ask me.”
Ali managed to hold her tongue before she accidentally blurted out what she was thinking: ‘No one asked you.’
Her mom’s comments were starting to make her feel defensive. It was obvious she’d taken an immediate dislike to Willow Bay. In fact, she’d probably already decided she didn’t like it before even setting eyes on the place, Ali thought. That was just the sort of woman her mother was. She clearly thought the boardwalk and bakery were beneath her, though she’d never say that overtly.
Ali scanned the boardwalk, trying to work out the best place to direct her mother.
Her eyes fell to Best Hot Dogs, and she instantly balked. The last thing she wanted was to bump into Seth, the suave hot dog vendor. They’d not really spoken since Ali had accidentally ended up simultaneously dating him at the same time as Nate.
Nate! Ali thought, her heart rate spiking anxiously.
Bumping into him would be significantly worse than bumping into Seth, but for the completely opposite reason. Their “relationship” was still entirely undefined. They’d pretty much carried on in the same fashion as before the whole double-dating debacle: surfing together, lunch dates, the occasional hand hold or peck on the cheek at the end of the evening, the occasional bunch of flowers. Ali had gotten no real clarity over where she stood with the surfer. The thought of introducing him to her mother made her toes curl with dread.