“Do you know what ever happened to it? Who might own it now?”
“I don’t, but I’ll ask Skip. I’m sure he’ll have an idea since it’s not too far from The Getaway. Why? What are you thinking?”
“Just that with a little love and a lot of construction, it could potentially be a really great spot for a thriving local business.”
“Or an expanding bakery?” Camille grinned at her husband.
“Maybe.” He just shrugged but returned her smile. “I wouldn’t say anything to Morgan just yet though,” he cautioned in a hushed tone as they continued slowly moving closer to the glass pastry case.
“I would never.”
“Camille?” Foster gave his wife an incredulous look. “You wouldnever?”
“Okay, I have been known to let things slip.” She would give him that much. “But I wouldn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up for no good reason.”
Foster was sweet to pretend he believed her.
When they finally got to the front of the line the selection was woefully low, as to be expected.
“I’m so sorry, you two.” Morgan’s hands went to her hips over her apron, head shaking with defeat. “I wish I had more to offer, but I’m wiped clean. It’ll have to be a chocolate chip muffin or a lemon glazed scone. I think that’s all that’s left.”
“How about one of each?” Camille said with a smile that wasn’t returned. Poor Morgan appeared even too exhausted to offer one. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Between getting things in place for the gala tomorrow night and keeping up with the recent demand in the bakery, I’m hanging on by a thread. A thread that I fear is unravelling quite quickly.”
“Is it a staffing issue?” Foster thumbed through his wallet for the correct change.
“Part staffing issue, part space issue, part I’m-still-not-entirely-sure-I-know-what-I’m-doing issue.”
“I wholeheartedly disagree with that last issue,” Camille said. “You’re doing a great job, Morgan.”
“I would be able to do a better job if I had more room in the back for another oven. But it’s cramped quarters as it is. I just hate running out of pastries when it’s not even noon. The only thing I can think to do is come in earlier to start baking, but I’m already here at four.” She placed the two treats into a brown paper bag with a stamp of the bakery’s logo and folded the top over once. “I suppose I could come in at three.”
“Or you could start looking for a bigger location where you can expand a little. You know, maybe start browsing up the coast—” The sharp jab to Camille’s ribcage cut off that last sentence before she could utter another word.
Morgan passed off the bag and hooked her hands on the edge of the counter. “If you hear of anything, let me know. I’m in a lease here for another few months, but I’m definitely open to other options.”
It was killing Camille to keep her lips buttoned, but she did it. Barely.
“You really aren’t good at keeping secrets, sweetheart,” Foster said as soon as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. He took a bite of the muffin, holding the bag below his chin to catch any stray crumbs.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t say one word about that old taffy shop.”
“You’re telling me that if I hadn’t poked you, you would’ve kept quiet?”
“As a mouse.” She nibbled on the corner of the lemon scone, not even disappointed that these were their only two options because everything Morgan made was nothing short of delicious.
“You’re cute when you’re delusional.”
They found a nice vacant bench across the street where they could sit with the coffees they’d purchased from a cart down the block. Camille loved Seascape Shores, and their Main Street was a big reason. She couldn’t imagine a better place to live, quite honestly.
Between their quaint little downtown, the unmatched beauty of the California coastline, and the people who called this place home, it was hard to name any other location that could beat it. Overwhelming gratitude warmed her soul as they people-watched, silently sipping their too-hot-to-gulp mochas and finishing up their pastries.
“I’ve been thinking.” Foster broke their quiet reverie.
“Should I be worried? Not that there’s ever a time when I’m not.”
His hand came down affectionately on her knee. “No, you shouldn’t worry. I’ve just been thinking a lot about this whole thing with my brother.”
