Cassie was frozen, her gaze darting from Maddie to Marilyn to the street. Maddie widened her eyes at Cassie and mentally willed her to play along.
Cassie cleared her throat. “Yeah. Yep. We’re fixing it all up. Going to be flowers and new awnings and everything. You just caught us on a bad day. It’s going to be done by Monday for sure.”
Marilyn tapped her shiny red nails on the counter as she gazed out into the street, considering their offer. “If that’s all true, it could work, but we need a venue, a building that could accommodate the judging area, display area, and of course, kitchens to bake the pies in.”
“We have that.” Cassie was getting excited too. “The old donut factory. It’s large enough and has a ton of ovens and a big kitchen, and it’s on the pier—such a gorgeous location.”
Maddie knew the building. It appeared as if it had been empty for some time and would need quite a bit of sprucing. Did it even still have the equipment inside? For all she knew, it was full of rotting wood, holes, and pigeons, but she wasn’t about to tell Marilyn that.
“Can I check the place out?” Marilyn asked.
“Yes, of course. I’ll find out how to get in and call you later?” Maddie didn’t dare breathe, awaiting her answer. If she was going to take the time to check it out, then there was hope she would consider having the baking contest here.
“Sounds good.” They exchanged contact info, and Marilyn left.
Maddie turned to Cassie. “I can’t believe that just happened. This could be the thing that we need for this town and my motel.” She scrolled through her contacts. She needed to get in touch with the welcome-wagon ladies pronto. She would need their help and the help of the whole town to pull this off.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gina tried to form the dough in her hand into a ball, but all it did was crumble into little pieces and fall onto the flour-strewn counter. She pushed aside the pile of mixing bowls, measuring cups, and ingredients and spread some more flour on the piece of waxed paper she was using to roll out the dough.
The recipe had said the dough was supposed to be formed into a ball, but this dough wasn’t complying. Her heart sunk. Just like Hugh had always told her, she wasn’t good at anything. She tried to remember Gram’s instructions on dough. Did she put more water in if it was crumbly or more flour? Gina couldn’t remember.
Maddie came rushing in, bubbling over with excitement. “There’s a baking show, and they’re going to come to town, and it’s perfect for—” She stopped speaking midsentence, her mouth open as she stared at the mess on the counter. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to make a pie, you know, because it was Gram’s specialty, but it’s not working out very well.”
Maddie pointed at the crumbled pieces of dough. “Is it supposed to be like that?”
“No, it’s supposed to be in a ball.”
“Sorry. I don’t have any idea how to bake, so I can’t help,” Maddie said. “But did you hear what I said? I ran into a woman in the coffee shop, and she could be the solution to all our problems.”
“How so?” Gina turned from the dough disaster, eager to hear what Maddie had to say, though she didn’t exactly know why she was eager, because she still intended to go home as soon as possible. Not that she had an actual house to go to anymore. But Boston was home, not there. In Boston she had friends… well, the two who were left “on her side” after Hugh disappeared. And she had her life, which consisted of… not much of anything since her business was dead and… well, okay maybe there really wasn’t that much for her in Boston after all.
She listened as Maddie told her about running into Marilyn at the coffee shop and her dilemma with the baking contest.
“That sounds like it would be perfect,” Gina agreed.
“I know, right? I have a message into the welcome-wagon ladies, and they’re coming in two hours. This could be just what we need.”
Jules came in through the lobby, her expression the exact opposite of Maddie’s. Obviously things weren’t going as well for her as they were for her cousin.
Maddie was oblivious to Jules’s mood. She bubbled over with excitement as she repeated her explanation to Jules about the baking contest that needed a new town.
“And the best part is, if the people come, they’re going to need a place to stay. We could rent them motel rooms.”
Gina had a momentary panic. “Rent them? They’re not really quite ready.”
“But we could get them ready quickly. I know we don’t have a lot of cash, but maybe we should charge some of it. We know that loan’s coming soon.”
“Sorry, guys. The loan isn’t coming soon,” Jules cut in.
Maddie’s bubbly mood dimmed quickly. “What do you mean?”
“I just came from the bank, and Nick lied about the inspection,” Jules said.
“I thought the inspector acted kind of weird about that, and it seemed odd that we’d need one,” Gina admitted. She hadn’t wanted to question Nick because maybe people did things weird in small towns. She’d never heard of such a thing in all her years of selling real estate, but she’d worked with residential homes.
