The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
“Is everything okay?” Ashton’s voice echoed down the hall.
“Yes, baby,” Lynda said quickly. “I was just saying hello to Bailey.”
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside and hammered the close button. As the doors shut, I caught one last glimpse of Ashton his icy stare locked onto mine.
After all these years, my heart still knew how to break for him.
Chapter 9
After meeting Ashton Miller in his office over the last two days, I spent most of my time sulking in my cottage, lost in gloomy thoughts and quietly planning my next move. I had not checked on the bakery yet.
Whenever I needed air to breathe, I wandered through places where I once spent time alone. I called my son several times and reassured him that everything was going according to plan and that I would be back as soon as possible. He sounded fine when I told him I might not return early. Maybe he was enjoying himself with Sissy and her husband. Poor Tristan had lacked attention from male figures since childhood, and thankfully, Sissy’s husband had filled that void for him.
After a lazy walk through the woods behind my cottage, I drove into town and headed toward the bakery. I needed to inspect the place and make sure everything was in good condition, since I was almost certain I would be putting it on the market.
I parked nearby and stepped out of my car. As I walked, I turned my head toward the ice cream shop across the road and remembered the unfortunate confrontation with my father a few days earlier. The memory was still fresh. Like the coward he was, he had not reached out to me after that incident.
I took out a stack of keys and searched for the front door key when light footsteps approached.
“Hey, uh, is this place yours?”
I turned, startled, and found a tall, gangly boy standing a little too close. He wore a cap pulled low over his eyes, an old jacket, ripped black jeans, and scuffed white canvas shoes.
“Yes,” I said slowly. “It is.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You hiring?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Hiring,” he repeated, nodding toward the bakery window. “I can help out. Clean, stock shelves, whatever.”
I glanced around the street. “Where are your parents?”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need my parents to get a job.”
“And how old are you?” I asked.
“Fourteen. Freshman.” He shrugged. “I can work after school. Part time.”
I shook my head. “You are too young. And even if you were not, I am not keeping this place.”
“Then why put up a help wanted sign?” he shot back, pointing at the paper taped to the window.
I frowned and turned to look. The notice made my stomach drop.
“That should not be there,” I said, pulling it down quickly. “It is a mistake.”
He crossed his arms. “So that is a no.”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “It is a no. Go home.”
I did not wait for his response. Once I managed to open the front door, I walked inside, hoping the boy understood and left.
Inside, I went straight to the main counter. Everything looked spotless, including the cabinets. Eva was very good at keeping the place clean. She would have been a valuable asset, but thatwas not going to happen. Once Ashton finished the paperwork, this shop would no longer be mine. I tried not to think about what would happen after it was sold.
I walked behind the counter and tried to imagine what it would feel like to be the owner. My hand brushed against a lower drawer. It was not locked, and I slid it open. Inside was only a brown envelope with my name written on it.
