I set the tray down and stripped off my oven mitts, my heart already starting to race. Celestine Solas didn't just drop by the bakery unannounced. She was a busy woman, running Solas Holdings and managing my brothers and their various dramas. If she was here, it was important.
I pushed through the swinging door into the front of the shop and found her standing at the counter, looking elegant and completely out of place in her tailored navy suit. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, and those green eyes that I'd inherited were assessing everything with the sharp intelligence that had made her one of the most respected businesswomen in Fernwood.
"Mom," I said. "What are you doing here?"
She smiled softly as she often did with me, her eyes twinkling. "Can't a mother visit her son at work?"
"You've been to the bakery exactly three times in the two years I've owned it," I pointed out.
"Well then, I'm overdue for a visit." She glanced around the shop, taking in the customers scattered at the small tables, the display case full of pastries, the warm lighting and cozy atmosphere. "It really is a lovely venture, Kael. You've built something really special here."
"Thanks," I said, still suspicious. "But you didn't come here to compliment my interior design choices."
She laughed softly. "No, I didn't. Can we talk? Somewhere private?"
I glanced around the bakery. The morning rush was winding down, and Marco had things well in hand.
"Let me grab my jacket," I said. "There's a park down the block. We can walk."
A few minutes later, we were strolling along the path that wound through Riverside Park. The February air was cool and carrying the faint promise of something warmer on its way. The bare tree branches overhead were just beginning to show the first tiny buds of early spring, and patches of snow still clung to the shadowed corners of the ground where the sunlight hadn't quite reached. A few brave snowdrops had pushed through the frost along the edge of the path, white and delicate against the gray earth.
It was the kind of morning that usually settled something in me. Today, my stomach was in knots.
My mother tucked her hand into the crook of my arm as we walked, the gesture familiar and comforting. For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just walked, our breath misting faintly in the cool air.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"It's been three days since the fitting," she said. "Have you told her yet?"
My silence was answer enough.
Her expression softened, but there was steel underneath. "Kael."
"I know," I said quickly. "I know I need to tell her. I'm going to. I just need to find the right time."
A gust of cold wind moved through the trees, shaking loose a few dead leaves that had somehow clung on through the winter. My mother stopped walking, turning to face me fully.
"The right time was six months ago," she said, not unkindly. "The second best time is now. You have a week and a half until the Valentine gala, sweetheart. That's not a lot of time for her to process something like this."
I scrubbed a hand over my face, exhaustion and frustration warring inside me. "What if she's like Sabrina?"
The name hung in the air between us.
My mother's expression shifted, understanding and sympathy flooding her features. She was quiet for a long moment before speaking.
"I know what happened with Sabrina hurt you," she said gently. "I know how badly that ended. But Kael, this girl is not her."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." Her voice was firm now.
We started walking again, slower this time. A jogger passed us, breath puffing white in the cold air, headphones in and oblivious to our conversation. A dog barked somewhere in the distance.
"Sabrina found out who you were on the third date and immediately changed," my mother continued. "She started planning your wedding before you'd even said you loved her. She cared more about the Solas name than she ever cared about you."
The memories were bitter. Sabrina showing up at family events uninvited. Sabrina dropping hints to society pages.Sabrina throwing a fit when I'd suggested keeping things private. The final blowup when I'd ended things and she'd threatened to sell her story to anyone who would listen.
"Exactly," I said. "So how is this different? The second Amara finds out I'm a Solas, everything could change."
