“I should ask you that. I saw Brecken’s videos and posts. Is it true?”
“Yes.” She pressed her lips together to keep from saying I told you so.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Taryn had to say it. “You might reconsider your meeting with them.”
Silence filled the line.
“You know about that?”
His tone didn’t tell her much, but his words were slower. “Nick Baxter mentioned it yesterday.”
“He’s no longer associated with the Summit Ridge Bakery.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” Of course not. It was four thirty in the morning. “How do you know that?”
“The owners emailed me last night.”
O-kay. “Does that mean you’re still meeting with them?”
“Your mother and I want you to have a life.”
“I have a life. One I enjoy very much.”
“All you do is work at the bakery.”
“I love baking.”
“It’s too much for you. You should date more so you can fall in love, get married, and have children.”
Huh? He made no sense. “I’m doing what you did.”
“That was different.”
Taryn had a feeling as to the reason, but she needed him to say. “How?”
He said nothing.
“Dad, what’s different?”
“I had your mother to raise you and take care of the house and all the other stuff that goes along with having a child. No man wants his wife working the hours you do. You’ve done a good job with the bakery, but your mother and I discussed this, and we’re selling it. If you want to keep working there, you can until—”
“Until I meet a man.” The words tasted like a burnt cookie.
“Yes. It’s the best thing for you.”
As if she were a child and not a thirty-two-year-old woman. And it wasn’t as if her parents were that old. Her mother might not have had a career outside of the house, but many others did. “It’s not. I can do both.”
“That’s what people say, but it’s not true. If you’d married before I retired, this would have been much easier for you to understand.”
The truth smacked Taryn in the head like a loaf of bread that had been underproofed or over-kneaded. Her father’s criticisms over her wanting to update the menu and remodel made sense now. He hadn’t wanted her to make any changes because Lawson’s Bakery wouldn’t be hers.
“You never planned to turn the bakery over to me.” The words came out calmer than she expected.
“No, we didn’t.”
Her breath hitched. “Did Grandpa know?”
