I consider her suggestion. The prospect of taking a few days off gives me a pit in my stomach.
Candy holds up a hand to stop me as I open my mouth to protest. "Aubrey, this place is amazing. But you need to have a life outside of Sugarplum. You eat, breathe, and sleep the bakery. I'll bet you spend your spare time watching baking shows and testing recipes."
"And your point?" I bristle, certainly not admitting that my plans for tonight involve developing a new spiced chocolate macaron recipe and binging the new season of the British baking show that should be boring but is more delightful than a pile of puppies.
"My point is that I want to work for you for the rest of my life," she says, her voice so gentle that my eyes prickle with tears. "I would hate to see you burn out and be miserable keeping this place going."
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and blow out a hard breath. "Fine."
Burnout was the reason I sold my last place. City life was not for me. Grueling hours and insane costs led me to feel like I was drowning most months. That’s not how Sugarplum is going, but I promised myself I’d find balance this time around, and Candy is right—I'm not doing a great job with that.
Candy gives me a big hug, and I let her hold me.
"All right, enough of this." She claps her hands in that no-nonsense way I love. "Get your deliveries made, and you can come back here this afternoon if you trust me to handle Sunday."
I shake my head but grab my keys and do exactly as she says.
What the hell am I going to do with myself?
Chapter four
Aubrey
After dropping the dessert special off at Angelo's Italian Restaurant, I head over to Hayes and Sara's house. Using the key they gave me last month when I watered their plants while they were out of town, I let myself in through the garage, carefully balancing the cake as I back into the laundry room. I stop short when I see a wooden gate blocking the entrance to the kitchen. Water sloshes into my shoes as I take a step closer.
"Ew! Ugh," I step back quickly, shaking my foot as I realize I walked right into a dog's water bowl. They don't have a dog.
Anxious panic grips me, and I look around nervously, momentarily wondering if I somehow let myself into the wrong house. But Sara's pickleball bag hangs on the hook, and I'drecognize it anywhere. She stops at the bakery every single Saturday on her way home from the gym.
I peek around the corner. I don't see anything with fur, so decide I can probably step over the gate.
The laundry room lets into the kitchen, so I slide the cake onto the closest counter and hoist my leg up and over so I'm straddling the gate. Overalls were not the best choice today, but in my defense, who plans to lift their leg above hip-level on any given day? I reach out and brace myself against the refrigerator as I swing my other leg up.
Just like an Olympic gymnast.I congratulate my typically uncoordinated self, like the delusional nutter I am, just as the tip of my foot catches on the top of the gate. I land butt-first on the floor with a loud thud.
"Ow, damn it!"
"Who's there?" a deep voice calls out.
I freeze. I'd recognize that voice anywhere.
Shit.
Footsteps sound down the hall, and I scramble to look less like a turtle on its back. I'm in the downward dog position—which is appropriate considering I'm presenting myself like I'm in heat—when I spy two work boots between my legs.
I jump up quickly, embarrassingly winded from the entire ordeal. Then I'm breathless for a whole different reason.
Max's jeans are slung low on his hips, and his shirt is off. I swallow hard, my eyes taking in the glorious half-naked fantasy standing right in front of me.
His eyes open wide in surprise as he stares back at me.
"What are you doing here?" we say at the same time.
I laugh despite the fact that this man does nothing but glare at me. For once, he quirks a smile, and my heart takes off like a hummingbird.
"It's Sara and Hayes' anniversary today," Max says.
"I know." I motion toward the cake, then realize I need to get it into the fridge. My shoe squeaks loudly, and my sock is still soggy as I walk to the refrigerator and open the door.
