“Is that a good thing?” I ask.
Katy nods, her lips still pressed together and her arms crossed in annoyance. “It is. I guess.”
“What would she have to do?” Tabitha stands beside me picking up the cloth.
Pierce smiles like he’s already talked me into it. “Participation is simple. Make up a bunch of cookies — the council will give you an estimated number a few weeks before so you can order enough supplies. And then the day of the Christmas Eve parade, you pass them out for free. The City Council will reimburse you for any costs on a per cookie basis.”
“Really?” It sounds way too good to be true and an awesome way to bring a lot of business into the bakery not only that day but in the future. “Thank you. I’d love to.”
There’s so much I’ll need to buy. More frosting for sure. I make it myself from a variation of a recipe my grandmother passed down the day I made my move here. Before that it had always been a well-kept family secret she didn’t share with anyone. Even my mother. Not that my mother baked much…or ever.
The big question is whether I keep it simple with the generic Christmas trees, gingerbread men, and stockings. Or go all out and use some of my more fun cookie cutters. The elf shoe, or wrapped gift, or the moose. People in Maine would like moose cookies, right?
“Great, I’ll let the council know today. You’ll get more information as you get closer to the event.” Pierce smiles and then turns his attention to Katy. “But don’t think it’s out of the goodness of my heart. Every month you’re here is another rent payment toward the boats.” His eyes narrow in Katy’s direction and then he turns around and walks out the door.
“Payments?” Katy spits. “You’d think he’d be able to pay in cash.” Katy starts complaining about him before he gets the door closed behind him.
“It sounds like a great opportunity, Katy.” Tabitha speaks the words I’m thinking.
“Just wait long enough. There’s always a hidden clause if Pierce is involved. First you give him a free cookie and next he’ll try to buy your soul.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Do you need us to bring an extra lawn chair?” Tabitha asks, tapping her pencil on the piece of lined paper where she started a list for tonight’s festival.
A group of us — me, Katy, Bennett, Tabitha and Ridge — are meeting up to watch the Fourth of July fireworks together down by the pier. Probably the place everyone is getting together to watch the Fourth of July fireworks.
I’d planned to bring a beach towel and sit on the sand. It’s not like I packed a lawn chair in my car when I made the cross country drive to Pelican Bay, but I’m not one to refuse the offer of a seat. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”
She waves a hand in the air. “Ridge has a garage full of them.”
It’s hard to believe today’s the Fourth of July. Most days it feels like it was yesterday when I loaded up the last of my belongings in the back of my car and waved goodbye to my mom and dad. I’d been ready to set off on a great new adventure. Ever since landing here, the excitement hasn’t stopped.
New friends, new boyfriend, new bakery — it’s basically an entirely new life. Everything I wanted.
But it’s been busy. Between working nonstop and everything else that has happened, I didn’t even get the chance to decorate for the Fourth of July celebration. The bakery, while cute, is missing the holiday charm. I must try better in the future. This place will be unrecognizable come the Christmas holiday. I’ll buy some wreaths, mistletoe, and every other Christmas decoration out here.
“Are you okay to close up by yourself?” Tabitha’s question breaks into my planning.
I finish wiping the last bit of flour off the prep table. “Of course. You go get ready. There isn’t much left. A few last-minute things and then I’ll lock up.”
It’s been a busy couple of days. I’d like to at least shave my legs before I put on a pair of shorts and sit on the beach with Bennett and Liam.
She folds up her list of every possession under the sun she might need to pack in a beach bag for tonight, shoving it in her back pocket. “If you think of anything else, let me know.” She stops by the back door, hesitating. “Also, I left a new name suggestion by the phone.”
I shake my head with force. I saw it ten minutes ago. “We are not naming this place Nessa’s Sea Treats.” I don’t even want to know where she came up with that one.
She shrugs, opening the door. “Your loss.”
The only thing I’m losing is a lot of jokes about my name resembling the Loch Ness monster. I spent a childhood being called Nessy by my cousins. I don’t need to start that here. At the front of the store, I turn off the lights inside the display cases and flip over the open sign to closed. It’s only five o’clock and I normally like to keep the shop open until at least six, but there’s a whole shaving leg issue I have to worry about. Closing an hour early doesn’t seem an issue. And even though the fireworks aren’t set to go off until after dark, we’ve only sold thirty dollars in the last hour. Everyone is prepping for the late night activities.
Pelican Bay loves to celebrate. I lock the front door and turn off the panel of lights for the dining area. Enough brightness flows in from the front windows, so it doesn’t make a difference.
Pearl, carrying a large canvas sack with two beach towels rolled up and sticking out over the top, hurries by the front window. She turns long enough to catch my attention and waves as she walks on.
It’s such a simple gesture, one she probably won’t even stop and think about, but to me it’s so much more. I make a full circle, allowing my eyes to catch on the brightly painted chairs, the pink walls, and the cute little tea sets I set up on a shelf behind the counter. This entire place is mine. Well, I don’t actually own the building, but all the stuff is mine.
I’m no longer working in someone else’s restaurant, taking orders, but I’m in my very own place. How many people under thirty can say the same?
