Prologue
Jessica
I let up on the gas pedal of my mom’s Cadillac when I noticed the neon sign in Beaumont Bakery’s window announcing, “Hot cinnamon rolls!”
Baked goods weren’t going to help me fit into my jeans again, but they might make me feel better—at least temporarily. Plus, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home and listen to my mother smugly tell me, “I told you so.” I didn’t have the energy for that yet. Maybe after a gooey, frosted cinnamon roll, I’d summon the strength.
I circled the block and found a parking spot close to the red brick entrance and pulled in between the white lines.
Before getting out, I double-checked I still had a five-dollar bill tucked in my wallet. Guilt niggled at me; I didn’tneeda cinnamon roll, and I shouldn’t be spending my money on such a frivolous treat. Then Chancellor Vought’s words from our meeting echoed in my head, and I opened the car door.
Yeah, I was going to eat my feelings.
Hopefully the sugar would help when I went home and listened to a repeat of the chancellor’s lecture from my parents. And I’d suck it up, nod in agreement, and say I understood, even though I knew the school’s ruling was bullshit.
But, I didn’t have any other choice.
Chapter One
Jessica
The bell over the door jingled as I walked into the bakery and one of the two women standing at the counter called out a warm, “Welcome in!”
Between the women’s friendly smiles, the delicious smells, and the cozy decor, in that moment, I really did feel welcome.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way. The realization almost made me burst into tears.
Not for the first time today, I buried those tears, although this time for a different reason.
I didn’t want these women to think I was a raving lunatic.
I’d refused to cry in front of Chancellor Vought because—screw that jerk. He wasn’t going to get my tears.
Making my way to the counter, I couldn’t help but smile back at them before glancing at the menu board overhead.
Cinnamon rolls were $4.99. I was pretty sure I had enough change in my coin purse to cover the tax.
“It smells so good in here,” I said as I stepped closer, then quickly muttered, “I’m sure you get that all the time.”
“Even if I do, I’ll never get tired of hearing it,” the younger of the two replied. She was wearing a pink apron withBeaumont Bakeryembroidered in blue across the front. Her name tag readLainey.
The other woman looked just like Lainey, except with darker blonde hair and a few more laugh lines around her eyes, and she was dressed in teal scrubs.
Both gave off a vibe that made me want to be part of their circle. Which made no sense considering we’d barely spoken. Plus, why would they want to be my friend?
I was an almost-twenty-three-year-old girl who’d just been expelled from school for being a sinner. I had no job, no money,and the only friends I’d been allowed to have had dumped me the second I’d needed them.
I knew the two women were just being nice because I was a customer. Still, I’d take their kindness, even if it was transactional.
Lainey studied me for a second, then slid the display case open and, using a pair of tongs, grabbed a sugar cookie shaped like a tulip with bright purple and green frosting. After wrapping the bottom in wax paper, she held it out to me.
“You deserve flowers, but since that’s not my specialty, here’s the next best thing. On the house.”
I hesitated, and the other woman interjected, “They’re really good.”
Taking the offered cookie, I murmured, “It’s so beautiful, I think I’d feel bad eating it.”
“That’s its destiny,” Lainey replied matter-of-factly. “Just like a flower is meant to bloom, that cookie is meant to be eaten and enjoyed.”
