A soft thud drew her attention to the shelf near the doorway, where Grim, her coal-dark cat, lounged like a self-appointed king. He stretched lazily, his topaz eyes narrowing as he gave Maude an unimpressed look. With a flick of his tail, he leapt down and sauntered toward Maude, weaving through her legs before leaping up onto the worktable.
“So, I’m guessing your attempt at conjuring eternal night over your garden gnome collection didn’t go as planned?”
Maude looked up at Oli, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Why? Did the sun come up today?”
Oli laughed and leaned against the counter. “Speaking of unexpected daylight, there’s a new bakery opening across the street. Thought you might want to know, considering it’s going to be all sunshine and rainbows over there.”
He watched closely for her reaction, and unfortunately, she gave him a rare display of emotion.
“What?”
Maude whirled around to peer out the dusty window.
How had she missed it?
The building across the street, which had been nothing more than a shadowed shell for years, was now alive with light and the curling smoke of an early morning start.
“A bakery?” Her tone was incredulous, almost offended.
“Yes, it’s a place where people make bread.”
Maude’s hand shot out, smacking him lightly before she turned back to the window, her expression one of mock horror. “Bread? Like, for eating? What is this, suburbia?”
He rolled his eyes, fighting back a grin. “I guess even Blightbend Way isn’t immune to the charm of a good sourdough. It’s theyeastwe could do.”
Maude turned slowly, her gaze lethal. “What did you do?”
Oli leaned in closer. “It’s an infiltration, Maude. First, they bring the bread. Next thing you know, there are flower shops and pastel curtains everywhere.”
“What. Did. You. Do.”
Oli sighed, the playfulness fading as he straightened. “He came to me with a proposal—detailed, organized, the kind of plan you don’t see every day. Said he’d only just arrived in town two weeks ago and wanted a chance to establish himself. So I extended him a loan. Fair terms. Enough to get his business off the ground.” His tone was half-serious, half-resigned, as if he too was trying to convince himself of the potential upside. “Maybe it’ll bring some light to this shadowy street.”
Maude glared at him. “I take it back. You’re not my favorite today. And maybe not ever again.”
He opened his mouth to retort, no doubt something annoyingly witty, but Maude was already turning away, her attention snapping to Mrs. Haddingham, who was shuffling past the window.
“Find everything all right today?”
The old woman nodded silently, clutching her daily sprig of thyme like a lifeline.
“See?” Maude said, turning to Oli with a triumphant smirk. “Loyal customers.”
Oli just shook his head. “One sprig of thyme a day. You’ll soon be a mogul.”
Two
It had been a week sinceSugar High Bakeryopened its aggressively cheerful doors, with its bricks slathered in pastel paint and windows permanently smeared with what looked like fake promises of sugar and starlight.
It was like getting punched in the face with a birthday cake.
Every morning, as Maude flipped the sign on her door to “Open,” the stench of freshly baked bread and sickly sweet pastries assaulted the street, clashing with the earthy scents of her herbs and potions.
Thankfully, she’d managed to avoid the owner. She usually strolled into work at a leisurely nine a.m., and the overly enthusiastic baker across the street was already buzzing around his shop, doors wide open and looking welcoming, as if he’d been baking and being annoyingly chipper for hours.
She knew little about the man—only that he was blond, male, and unmistakably Oli’s type. It was likely the sole reason Oli had betrayed her by granting him a loan.
He was probably the type to do push-ups while baking muffins and flashing a nauseatingly perfect smile. His cutesy shop would’ve fit better on Market Square, not Blightbend. No way he’d attract customers here.
