Page 6

It’s hot twenty-four hours a day.

“Girl, you need to take a damn break.”

I sigh, looking back at her. “I wish I could.”

Lord knows I would give just about anything to get two consecutive days off from both of my jobs. If that miraculous event ever happened, I’d turn off my phone, lock the door to my apartment and sleep the entire forty-eight hours away.

But that’s just a fantasy.

I can’t see how it would be feasible for me, at least not at any point in the near future. Maybe someday, though, I’ll be able to take time off and actually rest but it’s not going to be today.

I just hope it happens before I end up working myself to death.

“You are going to crash and burn if you keep going like this and you know it,” Mila says, echoing my thoughts as her brows pull down into a scowl. She watches me, worry filling her brown eyes, as she crosses her arms over her chest. Mila is only twenty-one, six years younger than me, but I swear, she acts more like a mom to me than my own mother ever did.

The thought makes my stomach twist and I push it away.

Mila makes sure I eat something as soon as she comes in for the start of her shift every day. She counts how many cups of water I drink while we work together and gets on my ass if it’s not as much as she thinks it should be. And she forces me to sit down and take a break when we have a lull in customers. I swear, it’s more like she’s the manager instead of me.

Or maybe Calvin just reassigned her job role to “Lennon’s personal caretaker”.

“I’ll be okay, Mila,” I say with a shrug, plastering a smile on my face that feels insincere.

“Hmm,” she hums, her eyes narrowing into a glare. She’s not buying a word of what I’m saying. “I’m going to call Calvin and tell him to force you to take a day off.”

Calvin is the owner of Sugared Magnolia and he ran it himself for years. When he hired me six months ago, I had zero commercial baking experience but I’ve loved baking ever since I was a teenager. I brought in some treats that I made to my interview, hoping it would be enough, and he said he was blown away. He hired me on the spot, really taking a chance on me, but it’s paid off. He’s been able to slowly transfer more and more responsibilities over to me. Now, I’m officially the manager and Calvin spends his days playing golf or whatever it is that semi-retired sixty-year-old men get up to. Sure, he pops in from time to time to check up on things or make sure we’re all happy but for the most part, I’m running things here.

“Don’t you dare,” I shoot back, shaking my head. I know damn well that I’m burning the candle at both ends and have been for months but what else am I supposed to do? There are people who count on me and I can’t just leave them high and dry. No matter how much I dream about running away sometimes.

God, on days like today, when I’m running on fumes and just trying to make it to the end of the day, it sounds like the best damn idea I’ve ever had.

I’d find a little coastal town, maybe somewhere up near Maine.

I would get myself a cute little cabin and spend my days baking, reading and letting the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks soothe my nervous system.

But that’s just a damn pipe dream.

It’s never been my life and it never will be.

And in all honesty, this little bakery in the heart of Baton Rouge, is pretty damn close to a dream come true. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of opening a bakery of my own one day. When my boyfriend, Owen, and I moved here six months ago and I landed this job, it felt like a giant step in the right direction. I’ve learned so much from Calvin and as he gave me more responsibilities, I’ve gained so much experience that will be invaluable to me when I’m ready to open a bakery of my own.

I should be having the time of my life.

But between the hours I put in here and working nights at a hotel, I’m too damn exhausted and overworked to enjoy any of it.

“Len,” Mila says, a warning in her voice but before she can say anything else, another customer steps up to the register and she turns to them with a smile. I take advantage of the distraction and slip out from behind the counter. There is a door to the alley in the back of the bakery and I make a break for it. The little bell above the door rings as I push it open and Mila’s gaze snaps to mine. I flash her a smile.

“See you tomorrow, Meels.”

I don’t wait for a reply as I step out into the alley behind the bakery where my beloved sky-blue Jeep is parked. And this time, when I smile, it’s genuine.

I picked this baby up in Arizona shortly before moving here and as soon as I saw it, I fell in love. I’ve never, in my life, had a car that felt so me. There is nothing in this world I love more than taking the top down and flying down the highway with the wind whipping through my hair and the music blaring. It’s my church, my sacred place. The time I feel closest to my dad who used to take me on his motorcycle around the neighborhood.

As I walk across the alley to my baby, I reach up and wipe away a bead of sweat already forming at my hairline. I grimace. When I was a kid, my best friend, Morgan, and I used to laugh ourselves silly at the old folks who moved to Arizona, swearing up and down that it was better there because it was a “dry” heat.

But I get it now.

Now that I live here, I understand exactly what they meant.