I was in the back, leaving the front customers to Ella, when she suddenly yelled out for me.
“What’s wrong?” I rushed into the front of the bakery, noting her worried tone.
Ella’s wide eyes met mine before she gestured at the front display window. “Look!”
I smiled apologetically at the handful of customers sitting at our tables and hurried over to the plate glass facing the street. Ella was looking out across at the candy store. A certain familiar figure was signing a delivery man’s clipboard and supervising the newest addition to The Sweet Shoppe.
I gasped at the sight of the massive box, reading the black block writing across the side of the cardboard. “Oh, my word!” I recognized it because I’d contemplated buying one myself. “Is that the new UberCoffee 137 model?”
“It sure is! So, now he’s serving coffee as well?” Ella huffed out loud while I did so inside, holding it back as much as I could. “No way! That’sourniche, Ivy. We’re the ones who volunteered to take classes so we could give people a place to go for a caffeine pick-me-up. He can’t just waltz in here with his fancy super-duper expensive machine and take over another thing we do!” She bit her lip, then looked over at me. “Can he?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. It certainly looked like he thought he could. I needed to call Dad. The moment I thought that, my pride crushed that impulse immediately. Who was I, some little girl running to her father every time something bad happened? I could handle this without bringing Dad into it.
Surely.
“Well, I’m not going to take this sort of thing lying down!” Ella reached behind her back and started to untie her apron strings. She pushed her cat-eye glasses up further on her nose after tossing aside the branded uniform piece. “I’m going to march over there and set Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Sugary straight. He needs to hear what’s what! Coffee isourterritory!”
“No, please don’t.” Because I could feel my blood pressure rising and my heartbeat accelerating, I fought for control. Calm. Peace. I even closed my eyes momentarily, trying to picture ocean waves crashing onto the shores of a pristine beach… andinstantly felt better. When I opened my eyes again, I shook my head and blew out a deep breath. “No. I’ll handle it my way.”
“And what way willthatbe, Ivy?” Ella sputtered. “By pretending it’s not happening and keeping your feelings inside, like you usually do?” She inhaled sharply, hands clapping over her mouth, but it was too late.
I jerked back as though she’d just slapped me. Darting a glance around the room, I hoped no one had heard her. Luckily, the customers were all busy talking amongst themselves and not giving us a second thought. “How can you say that to me, Ella?”
Ella shook her head, eyes sad and worried as her hands dropped to grab for mine. “Look, I’m sorry, Ivy, but you know it’s true. You hate conflict and confrontation. When’s the last time youreallytold someone how you felt?”
“I said I’d take care of it.” Turning, I pulled free of her and hurried back to the kitchen to finish decorating the Valentine’s Day-themed cupcakes. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment as my mind turned over and over what she’d said.
And did my level best not to cry into my icing, because she was right, darn it.
Completely and utterly right.
So much for trying to think of beach scenes to remain calm.
One thing was absolutely clear… I needed to think about my next move with Connor MacDowell, and that move couldn’t have anything to do with Dad.
Only I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going on across the street and what Ella had said. Why couldn’t I have Holly’s courage? Or Eve’s spunk? All my life I had been the one to keep the peace, to settle arguments, and to have a veneer of politeness even when I was frustrated or bored. Some things couldn’t be fixed by me trying to be the person to keep the peace, and when things got bad, I did my best to block it out and ignore it.
Luckily, the lunch-hour rush hit and kept me too busy to think about The Sweet Shoppe. By the time 3:00 rolled around, I was exhausted, both from work and from mulling over options in my head. I was tired of having imaginary debates with imaginary scenarios.
“You can call it a day, Ella,” I said. We’d been quiet with one another since she’d spoken up. I struggled to just drop the topic, and she seemed so remorseful that I only ended up feeling worse about the situation. It was easier to let her go home and do my best to sort this out on my own. “I’m just gonna finish the last of the cake pops and leave the decorating for tomorrow morning.”
She hesitated, looking at me with mournful eyes, before nodding. “I’ll sweep up the front first.”
Ten minutes later, Ella strode back inside the kitchen, her hands clenched into fists, her regret and reticence seemingly forgotten. Her face was flushed with emotion and hot color. “You probably don’t want to know this, but a few minutes ago, another van pulled up across the street. Our neighbor has a brand-new ice cream machine, Ivy.”
“Okay,” I said, my tone nice and calm. We didn’t sell ice cream.
No harm, no foul.
“Oh, I’m not done,” she snapped. “You know that fancy convection oven you’ve had your eye on now for six months?”
My stomach dropped. I’d been saving up for it, and couldn’t wait until I could buy one in the fall. Something told me I didn’t want to hear what she had to say next.
“Well, your competition nowownsone.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her antagonism back in full force. “And one of the workers accidentally upended a box. Ivy, dozens of cake pans fell out.”
I couldn’t breathe. This was just too much.
“Is he also making cakes?” Ella demanded.
