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Nora’s best friend had the worst poker face in Småland. Which was why Nora was worried when Bea looked her straight in the eye without so much as a twitch at the corner of her mouth after Nora asked her to repeat what she had just said.
“It’s true.” Bea was clearly excited.
“But ... hold on a minute.” Nora wiped her floury hands on a red-and-white-checked dishcloth and took a deep breath. “You’re telling me a TV team is coming here? Tomypatisserie?” She gazed at her friend skeptically before realizing that this wasn’t a cruel joke.
Bea’s expression grew serious. She leaned against the baking table behind her, put her hands on her hips, and looked Nora in the eye. “You know that Nymans needs some fresh energy—to help you get out of this mess.” She waved a hand around as if to underscore her point. “And they want to meet with you to go over the logistics.” Bea shrugged, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Brushing over the fact that she had applied for Nora to take part in a national TV show—without her friend’s knowledge.
Nora loathedLet’s Get Baking. Though she’d never actually watched it, the trailer was enough for her: an egocentric celebrity baker traveled around the country to shake up struggling bakeries and specialist cake shops known as patisseries. But Nymans—the oldest and most renowned patisserie in Västervik—didn’t need shaking up. Nora’sestablishment was a classic. A landmark. An institution. Way too good for some dumb reality show.
“I just don’t understand why Henrik Eklund would want anything to do with Nymans. Our customers like the place the way it is, and so do I. It hasn’t changed since Grandma took over, and that’s how it’s going to stay.” She looked defiantly at Bea.
“Your grandma took over in the sixties. Don’t you think it might be time for a change?”
Nora shook her head, though the same thought had occurred to her on more than one occasion. She was losing customers and knew she ought to do something, but she never had the time or the money for a radical makeover. “Mom and Dad did some renovations in the nineties—you have no idea how upset some of our customers were!”
Bea sighed. “I just think Nymans needs a boost. But it also deserves more attention, which theLet’s Get BakingChristmas special would provide.” She reached out and touched Nora’s arm. “It might mean you’d be able to afford to take on another patissier, or someone to work full-time in the café. You’ve been running everything on your own for years. How long do you think you can carry on like this?”
“You know how much I hate shows like that. What does a big-shot celebrity baker know about running a patisserie in our little town?” Nora turned around and went over to the enormous baking table, picked up a tray of loaves that had finished proofing, and carried it over to the huge oven, a recent investment that had almost brought the business to its knees. The next major project was to sort out the ventilation system. It hadn’t been touched for decades, and when the oven had been blasting away for a long time, the heat became almost suffocating, and the only thing that helped was to have all the windows wide open.
“Have you even seen the show?” Bea asked.
Nora opened the oven and slid in the tray. She remained silent as she thought about the trailers she had seen, where those poor bakers were routinely ridiculed bycelebrity bakerHenrik Eklund.
“The Christmas special pulls in almost a million viewers,” Bea went on when Nora didn’t respond. “You must have heard what a boost the featured bakeries have had?” She followed Nora over to the freshly baked rolls waiting on trays farther along the table. Nora picked up a bread knife and sharpened it, then sliced through the crust on the first roll.
Bea meant well, she knew. Her beloved patisserie was on the verge of bankruptcy. But secretly applying to the show on Nora’s behalf was a step too far. Bea was well aware that Nora would never let someone else dictate how to run her business.
Bea came and stood beside her. “You can’t turn down the meeting.”
“I know it’s a good opportunity, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Nora headed for the cool room, opened the door and held it ajar with her foot, leaned forward and grabbed a carton of butter and a pack of sliced cheese. She returned to the table and picked up a butter knife.
“I mean, it might be difficult to turn down the meeting, because it’s today.”
“Today?”
Bea’s smile was more than a little strained. “Yes, they’re coming here today. I waited until the last minute to tell you because I didn’t want you to back out.”
“I’ll have to postpone.”
“But you’ve got a meeting with the bank this afternoon,” Bea pointed out.
“And?” Nora looked up at her friend.
“And didn’t you say you’d reached your overdraft limit? I should think the bank will want to discuss that.”
“In which case I’ll tell them the truth—it’s been a difficult fall. The new Espresso House down the street has taken some of my customers, and so did that hip bakery that opened last year. But I have my regulars, and they’re a loyal bunch.”
“It hasn’t only been a difficult fall, Nora. It’s been a difficult five years.”
Bea laid cheese on the buttered rolls, and then Nora added two cucumber slices and put the halves together. Bea arranged the rolls on plastic trays.
“Why don’t you just meet the production company anyway? There’s no guarantee that Nymans will be chosen, but at least you’ll have tried.”
Nora didn’t say a word.
“Please, Nora. This could be your salvation. The patisserie’s salvation.” Bea gave her a quick hug. “Call me after the meeting. I have to go, but I’ll forward you the email about the meeting. They’ll be here at eleven.”
