“I’m sorry,what?” I held up my hands in total dismay. “What’s going on, Gracie? Was it something I did? Let’s see if we can talk about it. I thought you were happy here.”
“No, it’s not that.” She cleared her throat again. “See, I’m going to work for Mr. MacDowell across the street. He placed an ad in the paper, and when I went in to talk with him, he offered me, like, a dollar more an hour. So, I’m gonna go with him. Okay?”
I could hear Ella growl behind me while my heart sank.
“Why that dirty, low down—” Ella’s snarling words weren’t helping the matter.
“It’s fine, Gracie.” I waved a hand behind me to silence Ella. Gracie didn’t need to hear the rest of that statement. It wasn’t her fault, and I hardly blamed her. “We wish you all the best. Thank you for coming and telling me.”
She looked relieved before she nodded. “He told me I had to.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Um, Mr. MacDowell. He said it was the right thing to do, and so before I could start working for him, I had to let you know. In case you needed, you know, time to get someone.” Her eyes darted around the room. “But maybe you don’t need anyone?”
“We’ll be fine, Gracie,” I said, trying not to snap at her. “I’ll send your last paycheck to your parents’ house.”
“Um, yeah. Okay, thanks.” She waved her hand quickly in the air before bolting out the door.
“Oh, well, that’sit!” Ella exclaimed, her face flushed with anger. “I’m going over there and giving that jerk a piece of my mind! Imagine poaching our employee!”
I blew out a deep breath despite the seriousness of the situation. “I wouldn’t exactly call it poaching, Ella.” I shrugged. “It’s a great opportunity for Gracie. It’s okay. We’ll find someone new. Someone whowantsto work here. You’ll see. Everything will work out.”
But I couldn’t have been more wrong. After closing, Ella had just left, and I was shutting off the lights in the bakery when blushing bride Junie Blair burst through the door, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
“Hey, Junie,” I said with a bright smile for my client.
I still hung a lot of hope on her pending wedding, and the publicity the cake I was making for her would bring to the bakery. Surely, once the towering creation hit social media, with all its stunning decorations, things would turn around? It was the last thread I clung to and the only reason I was holding it together. I just wanted to get through Saturday, so I could prove what I was made of.
“It’s great to see you,” I said. “Did you want to see your cookies? I’m still working on your cake, but I just finished yourother order an hour ago.” I leaned forward and winked. “And they’re gorgeous, if I say so myself!”
Junie winced, and my heart dropped. “Oh, Ivy. I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had really hoped to get to you before you started the cookies.”
“I’m sorry? What?” The wedding was in two days. Of course I had them ready. My heart pounded in my chest, and I suddenly realized I had forgotten to breathe. “We set the schedule weeks ago so they’d be ready in time for your big day, Junie. I thought I explained that to you.”
“You did,” she said before she clapped her hands together and gave a little shimmy of unbridled excitement. “But I had thebestidea! And it’ssoawesome, I just knew it was the right thing to do, and I hope you love it, too!”
“What is it?” I asked woodenly but, deep down, I already had an idea what she was going to say.
“I called The Sweet Shoppe to see if I could maybe get a box of candy for each of my attendees. You know, something new from the new candy shop kind of thing. And Connor MacDowellhimselfanswered the phone! When I told him who I was, and how I’d been to his warehouse in San Francisco once when Craig and I went on vacation two years ago, well, he said he’dloveto supply a fellow candy connoisseur with an order!” She squealed and jumped up and down. “Ivy, he’s making four hundred champagne-filled chocolates that are shaped like hearts for all the guests! Can you believe it?”
For a moment, the floor tilted, and my vision went fuzzy around the edges.
“Isn’t this amazing!” Junie exclaimed, her happiness unfazed by my unspoken frustration. “I just can’t believe it!”
Oh, I could believe it, all right.
All of those cookies I’d baked and prepared were useless now. All of the hours fussing over them and decorating them,gone. I couldn’t even sell them at a reduced cost for Valentine’s Day because I couldn’t get a single customer to step inside my bakery.
“What about your order?” I whispered.
We had a signed contract for the wedding cake, with all the details noted and agreed on, but the cookies were a different matter. I’d simply added them to her request without making her sign a new addendum contract.
She got her delight under control and did her best to look genuinely sorry. “Can’t you just sell the cookies in your bakery? Plus, it’s not like I’m canceling my cake order. I still want that.”
I heard the defensiveness in her voice, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to immediately appease her. I was frustrated and boiling mad, and I didn’t care who knew it!
“No, Junie, I can’t just sell them in my bakery.” This was a straw that even the strongest camel would buckle under. “They were a special order, custom done, and decorated.”
