I palm the back of my head awkwardly. “Yeah, you probably should.”Should I press her further? What if she doesn’t want to talk about it?“Well, as long as you’re sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” She smiles, and her whole face brightens, except her eyes. It’s a dead giveaway.
It’s not in my nature to pry, and she’s not offering anything other than her allergy story.
“I’m good. I better get back to work.”
I thumb behind me like the coward I am. “Me too. I’ll see you later, then?”
“Enjoy the croissants.”
“The team thanks you in advance.”
I’m so fucking lame.
Chapter Two
CHELSEA
I didn’t tell Brad the truth because, frankly, I don’t need another person looking at me with sympathetic eyes. I couldn’t even tell him the truth about the bakery going up for sale, but he’ll know soon. Brad doesn’t sell commercial properties, but he knows everyone in this business. He’ll encourage me to try and buy it because we both know renting is fine for a while, but it’s not a long-term goal for me. It would make sense to buy the building that houses Sweet Confetti, my beloved bakery, and the adjoining apartment above it. Gah, I can’t even. I know I take the bakery name with me, it’s my LLC, but the building itself? I’ve put so much time and money into this iconic place, it’s a landmark now on Starmark Blvd. People come from far and wide to buy my goods. It’s not just a bakery, it’s where people come to mingle, mix and be.
That’s the whole reason I went to the bank first thing; to see about a loan. Unfortunately, that isn’t gonna happen, at least not for the amount I would need. I was so excited when I first got the call from my best friend, Beatrix. Her friend of a friend found out the owners were selling up, and Bea suggested I start talking to the bank early. So that’s what I did. I have all my finances up to date, and the bakery turns a profit. I also live upstairs, so thatsaves on rent, but apparently I don’t have enough savings, nor do I have enough ‘equity’.
I’m also at a higher risk of defaulting because the rumor is they want over a million dollars for the property, and that’s way more than I pay in rent. Admittedly, my face fell when I heard that startling piece of information. I thought the astronomical monthly rent I’m paying evened out the playing field. Not according to the bank. Apparently, that’s high risk, too. Plus, I’m a single working mom, and let’s face it, the bank never seems to like that when you’re going for a loan. Yep, it was all doom and gloom. I left the meeting feeling deflated and, well, a little pathetic, truth be told.
My business goal is to expand gradually and get more helpers so I can supervise more and concentrate on specialty cakes. I can’t do all the things I want right away because that costs money. Money I clearly don’t have. Not to mention the sale, and inevitably me leaving, is going to set me back thousands of dollars moving my premises to a new place. I mean, what are the chances I’ll find an apartment to live in above the shop? Those are like finding gold around here.
I wipe my eyes before I head in the back, hoping to head upstairs to my apartment before I run into my mom. She’ll only have questions, and my eyes are always puffy after I cry. Poor Brad having to see me like that. I don’t think he bought the allergy story, but he was uncomfortable enough to leave me be. Usually when women cry, men run a mile, and today I’m thankful for that.
I do not, however, expect a text as I’m sneaking in the back door.
Brad
Hey, I just wanted to check that you’re okay? I felt bad leaving. Do you have some antihistamines?
Oh, god. Now I’m lying to my best friend. Guilt washes over me. Bradley Lucas is a good man, no, he’s agreatman. Tall, dark and handsome. The playboy of LA. He’s a conundrum; completely polished, but also kinda rough around the edges. Clearly, he’s ruggedly handsome, has ridiculous hero hair, and those cobalt, steel-blue eyes and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles? Swoon. Not that I swoon over him. Nope. He’s my best friend. That’s it. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit he is a good-looking guy. Brad is also tattooed from here to Timbuktu, with two full arm sleeves that, frankly, should be banned, because it only makes him that much hotter. The funny thing is, you wouldn’t even know it because he always wears a suit and his arms are never visible.
I won’t deny half of my friends have asked me about who he’s dating, and if I can hook them up. I told them all to take a hike. Sorry, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end of having to hear about Brad and his quivering member, or where he puts it, what he kisses like, or any juicy details. Not the kind of thing you want to hear when you’ve been friends with a guy forever, and while he has a reputation for being grumpy, he’s never like that with me.
Me
I’m fine, B. Thanks for checking in. The Santa Anas this time of year always affects me. I’m okay
Brad
Anyone who gives me the thumbs up emoji is seriously not okay
Brad
Am I a jerk for leaving you with allergies?
I laugh out loud. This is Brad, always trying his best to help me out. Even when I make shit up so he won’t feel sorry for me.
Me
I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay
Brad
