by Zoe York
“Oh, that’s interesting that you’re starting at the market,” Catie said. “Smart, too.”
“It’s what I know, and there’s a built-in audience there. I don’t know what to expect for foot traffic here.”
“Well, we’ll be here on opening day.” Olivia pointed to the box. “Can I take a few of those to distribute around?”
Chapter Eleven
Adam had a shift the night before Isla’s second weekend at the farmer’s market, but he managed a decent amount of sleep overnight. They hadn’t had a single call between ten last night and six this morning, so he racked out and got plenty of unexpected rest. He’d missed her first day at the market, but he wasn’t going to miss today, so once they were finished handing over to the next crew on Saturday morning, he drove over to the market instead of heading home.
He saw her as soon as he headed down the main aisle. She was alone, standing ram-rod straight behind her table. He smiled at the sight of her blue apron, and then grinned even more broadly when a family stopped at her table before he did.
She caught sight of him as she sold them an assortment of treats.
Would he ever tire of the way her face lit up? Probably not.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” she breathed when they were alone. “How was your shift?”
“Quiet.” He made a face, surprising himself. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, but he ignored it. It wasn’t going to be work.
“Isn’t that good?”
“Yeah. No, it was a decent shift. Still getting used to the new team, that’s all.” His phone vibrated again, and again, so he excused himself and pulled it out of his pocket, only to laugh at the long string of messages he’d apparently just missed from his brothers.
Seth: Remember when we used to all do Saturday breakfast at Mac’s?
Will: Nope, because you refuse to move home.
Seth: Oh right. We could start a new tradition. I just landed at the marina.
Josh: Dude, some of us have lives.
Seth: You’re on a lounge chair in front of the garage. I can see you. Do you even work?
Josh: It’s eight in the morning. I’m enjoying my coffee.
Seth: Enjoy another one at the diner, let’s go.
Owen: Kerry is sleeping in, but I can meet people at the diner. Seth, are you going to get a ride with lazybones, or should I come down and pick you up.
Josh: I’ll drive him.
Will: Adam, are you reading these messages, or have you put us on mute because you’re sleeping, too?
He turned the phone around and showed it to Isla. “So apparently Seth flew down this morning. My brothers are all meeting at the diner for breakfast. I’ll head over there now.”
“Have fun! I’ll be quiet when I get home, in case you’re sleeping.”
“I’ll probably try to stay up all day and hit the hay early tonight.” He took a few steps towards the entrance as a woman paused to look at the cookies. “Those are delicious, by the way,” he said loudly.
The customer glanced at him and he winked at her. She blushed and told Isla she would take a half dozen. Isla bit back a laugh and waved goodbye to Adam.
At the diner, he parked next to Josh’s car and headed inside. His brothers had commandeered the corner booth, which normally sat six people. The four of them took up all the space, and Adam had to grab a chair to sit at the end.
“You made it,” Seth said, grabbing him in a bear hug before he could sit.
“I was at the farmer’s market when you arrived.” Adam nudged Josh. “It was hopping.”
Owen laughed. “We’ll be heading there later. Does Isla have a table there today?”
“She sure does.”
As Josh muttered under his breath, Seth handed Adam a menu. “How’s the job treating you?”
He didn’t want to admit it was whooping his ass.
“And how’s married life?”
Fuck, he didn’t want to answer that question, either. As long as it was just the two of them, Adam didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about how fucked up his brothers would think he was if they ever found out he couldn’t bring himself to fall in love, that he’d found an alternative of a sort. So he made a non-committal shrug and smiled. It was great, but not in a way they’d understand.
“How’s your new bride adjusting to life in Pine Harbour?”
Now there was a topic he could sink into. “Isla’s a force of nature. She’s going to have the cafe ready to be re-opened as her dream bakery in a few weeks. She already has an opening day picked out.” He went into great detail on the process, and the updated alarm system he’d installed himself, until Seth’s eyes glazed over. “How about you? What sparked the unexpected trip home?”
“Had a charter cancel at the last minute and thought I’d spend the day with my favourite people.”
Just a day, though. That was almost always the limit with Seth. He might come down for two or three around a holiday, if they were lucky. Like he kept one foot away at all times.
When breakfast ended, he went home and had a power nap, then met Isla at the bakery as she unloaded and cleaned up from the market.
“I thought I’d just check in, see what else needed to be done around here. Are you almost ready for opening day?”
“Nope.” She gave him a wide-eyed, terrified look. Then she laughed. “Yes?”
He had no doubt. “Yes.”
“Maybe.” She ran through her to-do list, then locked up the front, turned out the lights, and followed him out the back door.
Back at the house, he had some training material to read through, which ended up taking more of the afternoon than he expected. While he studied, Isla worked on her computer, both of them quiet and productive in the living room.
When she stretched and talked about dinner, Adam was startled to realize it was already that time of night.
“Do you want to keep working?” She pointed to the kitchen. “I can make something and bring plates in here.”
He got up. “Let’s eat in here, but I’ll take a break and help you cook.”
“Sandwiches?” Isla poked around in the fridge. “Or there’s some chilli we could re-heat.”
“Do you mind sandwiches? Easy to eat while I study.”
“Not at all.” She pulled out the fixings, and they worked side by side to make a couple of different kinds.
Then they went back to their work, food at hand.
When he finally finished his reading, he collected their plates and washed them up. She’d put her computer away and curled up under a blanket when he returned.
“I’m done for the day.”
“Me too.” He knew he should go up to bed. Instead, he sat down on the couch near her feet.
“Hey, you didn’t say how breakfast went with your brothers.”
He made a face. “They asked me how married life is going.”
She laughed gently. “And what did you say?”
He repeated the shrug and smile he’d given Seth instead of answering. “Just that. I didn’t elaborate. Let them draw their own conclusions.”
“Works for me.” She sighed and leaned back on the couch. “It honestly didn’t occur to me that they would be curious. Nobody ever asked me about my first marriage.” She made a face. “Maybe that was a sign everyone thought it wasn’t good. And they weren’t wrong. But even growing up, my parents never talked about other families. I’m a pretty closed person in that regard. You can always say something like that if it comes up again. ‘Isla’s private.’ It would be true.”
He gave her a tired smile. “I don’t need to push it off on you. I’m private, too. It’s none of their business. It’s just an adjustment, because I used to go clubbing with them, we’d be each other’s wingmen. But I was always playing a game there. They just don’t know that.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. That must be lonely.”
He exhaled roughly. “It is what it is. We all came out of the loss of our mom with baggage. Josh r
ebelled, Owen and Will mainlined responsibility like it was cocaine, Seth…” He trailed off. “I dunno. Maybe Seth is a combination of them all. He was career driven but also wanted to get out of town. And then there was me.”
“You were how old?”
“Twelve.” Just saying it seared something in his chest, sharp and ugly. He shook it off. “I’m tired, I should hit the hay.”
“Yeah.” She stood up and folded her blanket, neatly putting it back in her basket. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
He stood too. “No, it’s fine. It’s just hard to talk about.”
“I understand.” She moved closer, and Adam thought for a moment that she might hug him.
He wanted her to, and he didn’t at the same time.
She gave him a soft smile, grabbed his arm, and turned him, pointing him to the stairs. “To bed, mister. Off you go.”
After two more successful Saturdays at the market, where Isla handed out all of her flyers and collected a whole jar full of “Favourite Bake Sale Item Suggestions!”, she was ready for opening day.
She had no idea how many people to expect. When she walked over to the bakery with Adam, who insisted on coming along for moral support, it was still dark, still quiet. She braced herself for absolutely nobody showing up. Not intentionally. Eventually some people would come in from street foot traffic. If she sold a dozen cookies over the course of the day, she would be happy.
Anything more than that would be a bonus.
So by that metric, the day was a success as soon as the doors opened at seven in the morning, because there were three people waiting, and one of them bought a dozen cookies in the first minute. As she boxed them up, she asked how they heard about her shop and was thrilled to hear they’d picked up a flyer at the library.
All in all, she had ten customers in that first hour, ten people who had made it a point in their day to wake up early and come to Bake Sale! as soon as it opened. And they were ten people she hadn't met before.
It was a small victory, but a monumental one.
Over the course of the morning, the same questions kept coming up. People asked her about how often she would be open. How often her menu changed, and more than one person asked her if she sold coffee. That's all coming soon, she told them, her cheeks hurting from grinning so much.
When Catie and Olivia arrived mid-morning, she gave them an excited wave, happy to see somewhat familiar faces. They hung back until there was a gap in traffic.
“It looks like it’s going well,” Olivia said, perusing the glass case. “I was going to say I’d take a dozen cookies, but it looks like you’re running low.”
“I have more in the back. I can get you a fresh dozen.” She grabbed a cardboard box and collected those from the back, along with a new tray for the display. “Hey, I should thank you. Which one of you put the flyers at the library?”
Catie glanced at Olivia, who shrugged. “Wasn’t me.”
“Not me.” Catie’s eyes lit up. “Wait, do you know where the library is?”
Isla shook her head. “I’ve been so head down focused on getting the store ready, I haven’t explored the town at all.”
The realtor practically swooned. “It must have been Adam. You got a good one there, girl. The library is upstairs from the fire station, on the top floor of the emergency services building.”
“Oh!” Heat rushed to Isla’s face. “That’s lovely. He didn’t say anything.”
“How’s the morning going?”
“Really well. I still have so much work ahead of me, though. I didn’t anticipate how many people would want coffee and tea with their treats. It makes sense because this used to be a cafe. Even if I only offer to-go service, I really need to find a commercial espresso machine.”
Catie glanced at Olivia. “Did Frank ever sell the one in the back room?”
“I don’t think so. It was there the last time I popped in to say hi.” Olivia already had her phone out. “Let’s go over there after you close up. Could we do a late lunch? He’ll want to meet you, Isla.”
“He?”
“Frank.” Catie pointed in the general direction of the highway. “He owns the diner on the edge of town, Mac’s. We both worked there in the past, and it’s the only place in town to get a cup of coffee right now—don’t worry, he never minded the competition from Anne, and he’ll love you. Well, in his own gruff, barking way.”
Isla generally didn’t care for gruff barking. “Uh…”
Olivia stopped typing on her phone. “Too much?”
“Little bit.” Isla took a deep breath. “Thanks for the tip. One thing at a time, though. And I like his breakfast sandwiches. Adam gets them for me sometimes.”
Catie sighed. “Seriously jealous of that newlywed bliss.”
Isla didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe the secret to a happy marriage was to fake it with a friend?
The door opened, and she didn’t need to reply because she had yet another customer, a younger South Asian woman, and right behind her was Kerry.
Both of them greeted Catie and Olivia warmly, then Kerry gestured for the younger woman to order first. “Isla, this is Bailey Patel. We play soccer together.”
“Nice to meet you, Bailey. What can I get you today?”
“One of everything,” the other woman joked. “Actually, just one of every other thing. I’ll take a six-pack of assorted treats, please.” As Isla packaged that up, Bailey picked up one of the cards on the counter, then pulled out her phone. “Oh, your Instagram is so pretty!”
“Thanks. I’m working on it. It’s hard to get people to follow the account, though. I’m quickly learning that word of mouth is more important than online marketing up here.”
“Are you from the city?”
“Sort of. I’ve moved all over. But I love it here.” She handed over the box of goodies and rang up the total. Then she glanced at Kerry. “And for you?”
“I’ll take the baker’s dozen. Owen wants to take some to work tonight.”
Isla was touched by the support.
And by the time she closed up at noon, she was run off her feet. She had sold out almost everything. The bake sale model worked in a storefront just as well as it worked at a stall.
After flipping the lock, she went back into the kitchen and jumped as high as she could so she could click her heels together.
It worked.
She was exhausted. She had to do it again the next day. But it had actually worked. And she had Adam to thank in part for that, with his secret flyer distribution to the library. Who knew that was the real hub of the town?
Scaling up, as she had promised her customers she would, proved harder than Isla thought it would be.
Once she opened, just staying open was a full-time job. She was the only baker and the front of house employee, too. She was months away from being able to hire someone, but that was on her radar. Until then, she needed to be careful not to bite off more than she could chew.
She got to work at five in the morning most days, which she loved. She savoured the quiet order of unfolding the bakery and getting the first batches of cookies and cupcakes in the oven, before she flipped the open sign.
It was the end of her day, after the bakery closed at noon, that she found wearying. She would do her books, check stock, place orders, and play the guessing game about what might sell the following week.
One Wednesday afternoon in mid-November was extra frustrating, so she went home and had a nap, then returned to the bakery in the evening to get her work done. There was so much math involved, and Isla’s eyes were crossing. She scrubbed the heel of her hand against her twitching right eyeball, and tried to sort out her ordering plans again. If she thought she could sell ten dozen—
“Knock knock, am I interrupting?” Adam’s voice called out from the front of the house. She must have forgotten to lock the front door.
“I’m back here,” she hollered.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway like an abso
lute angel, holding a Thermos in his hand.
“Is that coffee?” She jumped up, her pen skittering across the steel counter.
“Soup.”
“That sounds like a good, nutritious choice,” she muttered through a small smile.
He frowned, his eyebrows tugging together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She stood and grabbed the second stool from under the other counter. “Here, sit. Thank you for bringing me some food.”
He’d been asleep when she went home. They were like two ships passing in the night with their competing schedules.
“I can’t stay, I’m leading the training for the volunteer fire brigade tonight. But I don’t work again until Monday, so I’m your personal chef for the next four days.”
She twisted the lid off the thermos and immediately leaned in. It was chicken soup, savoury and rich, and it had a beautiful colour.
“I added some ginger and turmeric.”
“I’m impressed,” she murmured. “You’re hired.”
He snagged a spoon for her from the canister by the sink, and she dug in. It was absolutely delicious, and she told him so.
“Are you going to be here late?” He looked concerned.
She shook her head. “No, I can finish this tomorrow. I just don’t like to get behind. You know, in the army, I always had a second-in-command to help me keep track of everything.”
“Do you feel like this is hard to keep up with? You’re so organized.”
“On the surface. Deep down, I feel like pure chaos.”
“Can I help?”
He didn’t assume. Didn’t try to take over. Just asked straight up.
She took a deep breath. “Maybe? You have to get going, though.”
“How about I come in tomorrow after you close up? Sometimes it’s just nice to talk everything through with another human. Even if my primary expertise here is eating the cookies.”
That made her laugh. “Hey, do you want to take some to the training tonight? I have some…” She got up and looked at her day old rack for tomorrow. “Caramel pecan? Those didn’t sell as well as I thought they would.”