I watch them through the window as they cross the street. The mother bends down to say something that makes the girl laugh, and my chest constricts, a different kind of ache from my baking soreness. My own mother is of the almond-mom variety. She always worried over her weight and mine and whether we’d meet my father’s exacting standards. One time, I asked for a second cupcake at a birthday party, and she reminded me that swimsuit season was coming.
I was ten.
I shove the memory back down where it belongs. Mom had been trying to protect me in her own way, and that wound scarred over years ago. No point picking at it now.
“Big plans this weekend?” Winnie’s voice pulls me back, and I dial my expression to casual before turning to face her.
“Jeremy and I?—”
She snickers, and I make a show of rolling my eyes.
“We’re going to dinner with a potential newbusinesspartner.” I emphasize the word even though I’m clearly not fooling either of us. “That’s all it is.”
“Is that all you want it to be?”
I take a breath and think about why I agreed to dinner with Joel and Mariel. Not just agreed, but offered after already telling him no. Is it really residual guilt over ghosting him and the Johnsons thinking he’s an asshole based on me crying into my tiny bag of pretzels on the flight home?
I can tell myself I’m keeping the scales balanced in a way that’s transactional. No messy emotions involved.
But it’s more. I don’t know what an overbearing stick-up-his-ass billionaire has to do with my joy…and yet. He looked like he wanted to devour me whole in his kitchen three days ago as he pressed me against the counter, caging me in without trapping me.
More importantly, he accepted it when I told him no to the dinner invitation. No other man in my life has shown me that sort of respect. My father steamrolled anything that got in his way, including me. Jon would subtly nod and smile, and then slowly chip away until I forgot I’d drawn a line in the first place.
“I just broke up with my fiancé.” The words come out steadier than I feel. “I’m not in a place to start something new.”
But the fact that I want to surfaces in a guarded part of my heart. I want to know what it feels like to be with someone who doesn’t make me feel smaller. Jeremy looks at me like I’m enough exactly as I am—defensive and sharp-tongued and carrying more baggage than a 747.
Winnie’s mouth presses into a thin line. “Speaking of that. Feels like it’s the right time to mention a customer I didn’t let in the back this week.”
My body goes still, and I’m suddenly very aware of how exposed this shop is with its big windows facing Main Street. Anyone could look in and see me. Get to me.
“Jon came into the bakery?”
“Yesterday morning. Jerkface bought a bottle of water and glared at the bakery case.” She shakes her head, disgust evident in the deep lines between her eyes. “Don’t worry. I told him the back was employees only and gave him a look that sent him packing.”
The image of five-foot-nothing Winnie staring down my ex in her “I like big buns” apron almost makes me smile.
Only not quite, because I’m too busy trying to stem the rising tide of acid in my stomach. “It’s fine. I’ve already scraped him off my shoe.”
Lighthearted snark is the opposite of what’s churning inside me. Jon always had to have the last word, so I know walking into a bakery to buy water he didn’t need was some kind of power play.
“How did he find out I’m here?” I mutter, more to myself than Winnie, but she still answers.
“Like I told you before: small town.”
Right. I swallow past the knot lodged in my throat. “I told him to fuck off once and would have no problem doing it again.”
“Good for you.”
I glance at the clock above the register. “I should go. Nap, then get ready for my?—”
I catch myself before the worddateleaves my mouth.
“—my dinner.”
I hold up my hands for Winnie’s inspection. I used to keep the nails perfect, but trying to be perfect got me absolutely nowhere. Still…
“Do you think I can squeeze in a manicure?”
