by Marina Adair
Good luck. As far as Syd knew, there was nothing large enough available on such short notice to meet their production schedule. But if anyone could find it, Gage could.
“What about insurance? How soon can we expect them to pay our claim?” They’d need money as fast as possible to replace their equipment.
“I talked to our agent, and as soon as we can come together on a dollar amount for damages, they’ll cut us a check.”
At least that was something.
“I guess we should get on the phone and start calling everyone we know about a new space.”
Gage nodded. “In the meantime, I’ll get some folks in here to see what we can salvage.”
Syd doubted there was anything. Replacing all their cookware would be a job in and of itself. “I’ll call our rep at Bay Restaurant Supply and see if he can hook us up as quickly as possible.”
“Yep.” Gage rubbed his hand down his face and glanced around the kitchen at the carnage. “You know a good contractor?”
Too bad Nick lived on the other side of the country. Her chest squeezed just thinking about him. It had been only eight hours since she’d left him at the airport and yet it had felt so final.
“I’ll make some calls,” she said. Maybe Emily would be a good resource. At least for finding a temporary commercial kitchen large enough to accommodate their operation.
And like that, she remembered the Corner Café. She was supposed to drop off a new order of yeast rolls, cheesy biscuits, and cinnamon bread this morning. In her haste to get to San Francisco, she’d forgotten to call Nan.
She stepped outside, moved away from her burned-down building, and inhaled clean air. At the bottom of her purse she found her phone, which was down to the last of its battery life. She quickly dialed and got Nan on the second ring.
“I am so sorry,” she started to say, but Nan stopped her.
“Nick told us what happened, dear. Is everyone okay?”
Her evening crew had been able to get out of the building, unharmed. If anything had happened to one of her employees. . . well, the thought made Syd count her blessings. “Everyone is fine, thank goodness. But the bakery is a wreck and, in my frenzy to get here, I forgot about the order I promised you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve survived this long without your delicious breads, though they’re a giant hit, Syd. I wish you would reconsider staying. I don’t know who will miss you more, me or my customers.”
“That is so sweet of you, Nan.” Gage had come outside and was motioning to Syd. He had news. “Uh, I have to go, Nan.”
“Oh, hon, when you have time, drop us a line and let us know how you’re doing.”
“I will. Thank you for being so understanding.” She hung up and made her way across the sidewalk to where Gage was standing. “What’s up?”
“I may have a lead on a commissary kitchen we can rent.”
Syd’s mouth fell open. “How did you make that happen so fast?”
“It’s not a done deal by any stretch, but Kelly called someone she knows and just texted me that she’s driving over there to check the place out.”
It took all of Syd’s willpower not to pull a face at the mention of her former assistant’s name. The worst part about Gage and Kelly’s affair was that Syd had lost the best assistant she’d ever had.
“Fantastic. Let me know what she finds out. I’ve got to go home and grab a shower, Gage.” Besides smelling like smoke, she’d been in the same clothes since her dinner date with Nick. “After that I’ll start making calls about equipment and everything else we’ll need. Who’s been in touch with our accounts? Even if we’re lucky enough to get this kitchen, I don’t see us making our orders this week.”
Gage ran his hand through his thinning hair. “I’ll get my staff to let everyone know. By now the fire has been all over the news, so it shouldn’t come as any surprise. But, Syd, we’ve got to get up and running as soon as possible; otherwise we won’t make payroll.”
Syd sighed. The margins were so tight in the baking business that even a flush company could go down with one small catastrophe. “I know.”
She took a Lyft home, her head throbbing. There hadn’t been any time to grab food at the airport, and all she’d had was a bag of airline pretzels. Though the idea of eating made her stomach queasy. Sleep was what she wanted. But there was too much work to be done.
She was unlocking her front door when she got a text from Gage that the kitchen was a no go. Too small. They were back at square one as far as finding a place.
She’d been home less than three hours and she was already physically and emotionally drained.
After her shower, she called Emily, who’d already heard about the fire through the local food grapevine.
“I’m so very sorry, Syd. How can I help?”
“We need a large commercial baking kitchen. You have any ideas?”
“Not off the top of my head. But let me do some calling around. How long do you think it’ll take to rehab the bakery?”
“I don’t know. I need a good contractor.”
“Let me make some calls.”
As soon as Syd hung up with Emily, she called everyone she could think of. Though they all tried to be helpful, Syd was no closer to solving her problems.
Gage sent another text, his fourth one in an hour. “Any luck? None on my end. Kelly has a friend who’s in construction and she’s calling him now. Please tell me you’ve got good news.”
She dialed his number. “Nothing so far. Emily McCreedy is reaching out to some of her friends, but I doubt she’ll have any better luck than I did. This commercial kitchen we’re looking for is a unicorn, Gage. We’d be better off paying a crew to work around the clock to repair our kitchen.”
“I don’t know what kind of cleanup is involved with fire damage or what the health department will require. We may be looking at months here to mitigate the odor, the ash . . . biohazards. This isn’t my area of expertise, Syd.”
“Is there someone we can talk to about it . . . an expediter or someone from the city?”
“Let me ask around. But even if we can get a cleanup crew to do it to the satisfaction of the health department, we’ve got open walls . . . an open roof. The place is in a goddamn shambles.”
“What about Kelly’s construction friend?”
“It’s a possibility. We’re working on it. You keep searching for a kitchen, because right now that looks like our best option.”
Yeah, if it actually existed.
By nine that night, she couldn’t push herself to make another call. She could barely keep her eyes open. Two hours earlier she’d made herself a sandwich, and it was still sitting on the counter, untouched. The day had been daunting, and she’d never felt more alone. Even with all the support from her friends and colleagues, she was terribly on her own.
She’d tried to call Nick but kept getting voicemail. She could really use some of his moral support about now.
* * *
The next morning, she met Gage at Bread & Cie. Kelly had come through with a contractor, and they planned to walk the site with him to get an idea of how long a rehab would take. The bakery looked even worse than it had the day before. Syd figured she’d still been in shock when she’d first arrived. Today, though, she was able to see the complete destruction.
“I need a few minutes,” she told Gage and the contractor, and ducked into the alley, where she pressed her face against the neighboring building and cried until her tears ran dry. Everything she’d built was gone. And Gram, Syd’s life guide, was no longer here to soothe her. If only . . .
“It looks pretty bad.”
Syd didn’t dare to look up. The voice sounded so much like Nick’s that she was afraid to turn around and be disappointed when she found someone else standing there.
“Ah, honey, come here.”
She slowly raised her head, and there was Nick with his arms wide open. It only took her a second to walk into them. “I don’t understand .
. . what are you doing here . . . how did you find me?”
He lifted her chin with his finger and stared into her eyes. “I buttoned up the carriage house, caught a plane, and Googled Bread and Cie. Figured you’d be here.”
“I can’t believe you came all this way.” She buried her face in his chest so he wouldn’t see how choked up she was. Suddenly she didn’t feel so all alone. “I tried to call you. . . . You must’ve been on the plane. When did you get in?”
“Early this morning. I had a layover in DC.”
“Oh, Nick, you must be exhausted. You didn’t have to come, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Looks like you can use me.” He bobbed his head at her charred bakery. “I wish I could’ve brought my tools.”
“I’m just happy to have a shoulder.” His were certainly wide enough to bear the weight. “I don’t know how we’ll get back on our feet. This is a huge hit.”
“We’ll make it happen. It always looks worse than it is. Have you called a fire damage restoration company to do the cleanup? As soon as that’s done we can start rebuilding.”
We. He’d said it twice—she’d counted. Never had her heart felt so full.
“What about all your work in Moonbright?”
“Sal and Tino have got me covered. Let’s do this.”
* * *
With little sleep, they spent the next week clearing enough of the damage to get the health department’s blessing to start baking again. Nick worked tirelessly alongside Rafael, Kelly’s contractor friend, installing flooring and drywall. They still had a mess to contend with, but engineers had deemed the building structurally sound. It turned out that the fire damage was mostly cosmetic. Still a ton of work, but a lot less costly and time-consuming than having to build from the ground up.
Every day, Syd fell deeper and deeper for Nick, who’d been her lifeline. Their nights, what little they had of them, were spent in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. She’d never experienced the kind of intimacy she had with Nick. But in her heart, she knew they were only putting off the inevitable. Soon he’d have to return to Moonbright and she would have to put her life back together in San Francisco.
Yet the thought of ending whatever this was made it nearly impossible to let go. She reminded herself that he’d never asked for a future together. Jeez, Syd, don’t you see? I’m falling for you had been the extent of his voicing his feelings for her.
Still, he was here, working like a dog to help her salvage her business. That had to mean something, right?
But when he got on a plane back to Bangor two days later without discussing where they stood, she convinced herself that they were friends who could never become anything more. Now she just had to convince herself that it was for the best.
Chapter 11
One look at Syd’s big-city life and Nick had known he was doomed. Her condo reminded him of a commercial for expensive vodka. Views of the San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, and city lights made Moonbright seem like Timbuktu.
Then there was her bakery. The kitchen was ten thousand square feet, far larger than Stella’s quaint carriage house. The little building wouldn’t hold a tenth of Syd’s employees.
And while her ex was a dick for cheating on her, Nick couldn’t help comparing himself. The dude showed up to the bakery every day dressed in designer suits. The only suit Nick owned was the one he’d worn to Tino’s wedding a couple of years ago. He doubted it still fit him anymore.
The week had sure opened his eyes to how differently he and Sydney lived. The crushing part was their week together had also cemented just how strong his feelings were for her. If he thought he’d fallen for her before the trip to San Francisco, he was now completely underwater. Sydney Byrne did it for him, hook, line, and sinker.
It wasn’t easy letting her go but what choice did he have? He couldn’t give her what she wanted, and she deserved someone who could.
One day at a time, he told himself. He’d get over her one day at a time.
But as Thanksgiving approached, he was no closer to getting over her than he had been a couple of weeks ago. He’d tried going cold turkey. Yet he found himself reaching for the phone at least three times a day to call her, using work on her grandmother’s house as an excuse: Do you want the shelves over the toilet or next to the sink? Did you get those paint chips I sent you?
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Sal asked.
“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”
Sal threw his arms up in defeat. “Apparently that beer you’ve been staring into for the last ten minutes is more interesting than Marjorie Miller’s change orders.”
They’d met at the Thirsty Raven for happy hour and to discuss the Millers’ project, which had gone over budget.
“You have to sit down with Marjorie and Dick and give them an accounting before they get the final bill and flip out,” Nick said. “People don’t realize that altering the plan in the eleventh hour of a project comes with a price tag.”
Sal shook his head. “Why do I get stuck delivering the bad news?”
“Because you’re the dipshit who allowed Marjorie to make all the changes in the first place.”
“Fine.” Sal rolled his eyes. “What’s eating you, anyway? You haven’t been the same since you got home from San Francisco.”
Nick didn’t think there was any sense in lying. His brothers knew him better than anyone. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Like a certain baker you’ve been infatuated with since high school?” Sal waggled his brows. “What’s going on between you and Sydney Byrne?”
“She lives across the country, Sal. So nothing is going on.” Nick went back to staring into his beer.
* * *
Syd fastened her seat belt while a too-cheery flight attendant announced that the crew would soon be serving turkey scrambles, cranberry jelly, and toast. For the third or fourth time that morning, Syd questioned her sanity.
Showing up at Nick’s doorstep unannounced on a holiday had seemed like a brilliant idea after a couple of glasses of wine, when she’d paid three times the going rate for a round-trip ticket to Maine. This morning . . . well, not so much.
He hadn’t invited her. Yet here she was on an eight-hour flight with a stopover in Philly. On the upside, she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her Thanksgiving orders were filled and she’d be back in time for Monday’s deliveries.
Worse came to worst, she’d have Thanksgiving dinner alone in Gram’s Victorian. She needed to check the remodel anyway. At least that’s what she told herself.
She slept through most of the flight, awakening just as the plane prepared for landing in Bangor. Traveling light, she grabbed her carry-on from the overhead and managed to deplane in record time. She wasn’t looking forward to driving in the dark, though the forecast called for mild weather. No snow or ice.
At the car rental kiosk, she got an all-wheel-drive vehicle just in case. In Maine, the weather could change on a dime.
An hour later, she sat parked in front of Nick’s house, holding her breath. Of all the hairbrained schemes this one was right up there with Gram’s commercial kitchen. But she was here now. Cold and hungry.
Just do it.
She forced herself out of the car and gave herself a pep talk as she made her way across Nick’s front yard. The fact that the lawn desperately needed mowing made her smile. She rang the bell when she got to the door, but no one answered. More than likely he was at his parents’.
So much for her surprise. Then again, what had she expected? Of course he’d be with his family on Thanksgiving. She sucked in a steadying breath and slowly dialed his number on her phone.
“Syd?” He answered on the first ring, making her heart race. “Where are you?”
“Funny you should ask. I’m sitting in front of your house.”
“Shit.”
Okay, not the reaction she’d hoped for.
“I’m standing in front of yours,” he said. “I guess that’s wh
y no one is answering your intercom.”
Apparently great minds thought alike. They were each trying to surprise the other. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or disappointed.
“Stay where you are,” he said.
“In front of your house?”
“In Moonbright. I’ll catch the quickest flight home.” He’d be lucky to make it here by tomorrow. “And, Syd . . .”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
* * *
The next morning, Syd walked through the carriage house. It was amazing how very different it looked from the last time she’d seen it. Just a few finishing touches had turned the granny flat into a dazzling commercial kitchen. Not nearly as large as Bread & Cie but big enough to accommodate a tearoom and then some.
“Don’t you love it, Gram?” Stella had been the architect after all.
It made Syd wonder what other intentions Gram had had by throwing her and Nick together. She’d been well aware of Syd’s crush in high school and had soothed her broken heart after the kiss fallout. And here they were, déjà vu.
I love you.
Nick had hung up before she could say the words back to him. She loved him. Perhaps she always had.
“Hello.”
Syd spun around. “You’re here.” She hadn’t expected him to arrive so early.
But there he was, in the flesh, standing in the doorway of the carriage house, looking exhausted, a little frazzled, and so good it made Syd’s heart sing.
“I didn’t hear your truck drive up.”
“I parked on the street.” He crooked his finger at her. “Come ’ere.”
She rushed into his embrace. Before she could tell him how happy she was to see him, he caught her mouth with his and kissed her until she thought her knees would buckle.
“I love you, Nick,” she said against his lips. “I’ve been a mess ever since you left.”
“Me too. But I’m good now.” He pulled her in for another kiss.
“I can’t believe you flew all the way to San Francisco and then back again. I’m sorry you missed Thanksgiving with your family.”
“I’m sorry you had Thanksgiving alone.” He held her as if his life depended on it and pressed his forehead against hers. “How the hell are we going to do this, Syd?”