His face, for one beautiful second, lost every ounce of confidence. He swallowed, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and nodded. "Yeah. Got it. It's your lot. Honest mistake."
Caden wasn't satisfied, but a little of the pressure bled off.
Still, the taste of mint was burning my tongue. It was like poison.
Behind me, Maeve radiated satisfaction. She glareddaggers at the crew, who had finally dropped into full retreat mode.
I stepped back, never breaking eye contact. "Move your stuff," I snapped. "Fix what you ruined. And next time, knock first."
William stammered out a "Sure thing." He spun on his heel and started barking orders at the crew.
The workers scrambled, suddenly twice as fast as before. Shovels flew, equipment zipped back into the truck beds, and the orange-vested guy actually tripped over the old boundary marker trying to replant it upright. I counted every man, every pair of eyes locked on the ground, desperate not to risk another second of my attention.
I let them go. It was almost funny, how the balance of power had turned to solid rock in a single heartbeat.
All that was left in the aftermath was the stench of mint, the churned mess of what used to be a flower bed, and the unmistakable sense that, for now, the bakery was back under my protection.
But I knew better. This wasn't a mistake. This was a test, plain and simple.
Caden muttered,They wanted to see what you'd do. See if you'd fold.
I gritted my teeth, watching the last SkyArc trucklurch out of the lot, tailpipe belching. William never glanced back.
When the engine sounds died and the mud had settled, I unclenched my fists.
Maeve was behind me, huffing. "You showed them," she said, voice sharp. "Next time they come back, I'm setting their underwear on fire."
I almost laughed. The adrenaline was shaking my fingers, and my head ached with leftover fury.
"Go inside, Maeve. I'll take care of the rest," I murmured. She stomped off, but not before shooting the empty parking lot one last death glare.
I wiped my palms on my work pants then pulled my phone from my apron.
My fingers still trembled with adrenaline, but I managed to get the message out.
Tuesday, 6 p.m. at my house?
The reply was instant, like she'd been waiting with her own nerves all wound up.
See you then.
I sent the address, triple-checking for typos.
With that done, I headed for the door,taking one last look at the bakery sign overhead. The dragon curled around a cupcake, grinning at the chaos.
Inside, the world slipped back to normal. But my brain was already racing. I'd skip the town hall. There was no need to spook Tash or the girls. Instead, I'd have Maeve go just to keep an eye on things.
I locked the bakery, watched the street for another full minute, and waited for my pulse to settle.
Caden paced, prowled, and whispered.Not over. Not even close.
Tash
The parking lotat the Laurel Gap community center overflowed with vehicles. Headlights etched jumpy shadows across the asphalt. I aimed for the furthest spot, squinting through streetlight glare.
The wind knifed through the gap in my scarf, but I barely noticed. My hands gripped the folder so tightly that the edge made deep dents in my palm. Data sheets, water samples, and three high-gloss photos of destroyed creek banks. All in order, all ready. My stomach still cartwheeled. I could do presentations, but I didn't like it, and this one had to be fast. The time limits were strict at meetings like these.
Inside, the fluorescent light was bright enough to cast double shadows. The room was packed. I couldsmell burnt coffee from the carafe by the entry, bitter enough to wrinkle my nose. It was standing-room-only even along the back wall. All kinds of people, and nobody looked like they were here for the free coffee.
