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“Why? I thought it’s like clockwork now.”
Dad hesitates. “It usually is. But this year, Rosie Harper was volunteered to head it up, and she...” I can tell he’s struggling for words. “She’s a very nice woman with a lot of ambition. But I get the sense that she’s having a harder time than she’s letting on with how much she’s bitten off with the inn.” He shrugs. “I’m sure she’ll pull it off, though. She seems to have a lot of grit.”
I smile. Dad always sees the best in people.
Most people.
He parks at Town Hall, and we say goodbye to each other before I walk toward the library directly across the street. Luckily, his office window looks out the other side.
Glancing over my shoulder, I make sure he’s inside before I walk right past the library and head farther down the street to Keller’s Bakehouse.
I love this shop in the fall. Mrs. Keller always has the most incredible window display—though it’s the same every year. Some shops don’t decorate until October, but in my opinion, autumn starts the second mid-August hits. I take a minute to admire the fall leaves, baked goods, and tiered trays in the window before stepping away.
The bell above the door jingles as I enter the bakehouse, and Mrs. Keller looks up at me from behind the counter. “Juliet! I’d heard you were back. Good to have you home.”
“Thank you.” I walk farther in, eying the various muffins, sticky buns, and donuts in the glass window display. “I’m glad to be back—especially here. Everything looks incredible, as usual.”
That’s not an exaggeration. Keller’s Bakehouse has the best baked goods in all of Vermont.
“What can I get for you?”
I’m not hungry, but I can’t just come in here looking for answers without buying something.
I choose an apple muffin, a cider bar, and a maple cinnamon sticky bun. As Mrs. Keller gathers the goods, I look around for the person I was hoping to see—the one person who doesn’t seem to be here.
“I should’ve known you’d choose a sticky bun,” Mrs. Keller says, ringing them up. “They seem to be your dad’s favorite, too.”
I tip my head to the side as I pay. “Are they?”
“He comes in every other day to get two of them. Always the same. He’s a creature of habit, isn’t he, our mayor?”
I give a little laugh, but it’s forced. Dad is a creature of habit, but not for pastries. He’s more of an ice cream guy. I guess he could have changed in the last couple of years, but two maple cinnamon sticky buns?
“Have a good day, hon,” Mrs. Keller says.
I return the words absentmindedly, my mind revving harder. Just as I turn to leave, though, the back door opens, and Sadie appears.
Her red eyebrows disappear behind her thick bangs when she sees me. “Juliet,” she greets, her surprise shifting quickly to a welcoming grin. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too,” I greet.
Stopping my departure, I turn to face her directly. Her tan, canvas apron is covered in flour and chocolate as she wipes her hands on a spare cloth. I always thought her pretty in high school, but now, with her hair an even brighter shade of copper and light freckles spattering her nose, I can’t help but feel slightly intimidated.
Why would Archer not want to date her? She’s tall, mature enough to hold her own job, and confident around horses—all qualities I absolutely don’t have.
Sadie watches me curiously, which I guess is warranted, since I’m staring at her. I blink and step out of my thoughts. “It was good to see you at my dad’s party the other day. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk.”
“There’s always so many people at those events, it’s impossible to get to everybody.”
Pretty, kind, and generous. Archer must be blind. That makes me feel better about him not noticing me before.
“The cheesecakes were a huge hit,” I say, glancing at Mrs. Keller, though she’s already helping another customer. “I hope you had a good time. Especially with your date.”
I hope I don’t sound jealous. I’m not. Ish.
Sadie catches on as she takes a few steps toward me, a bit of white powder on her cheek. I can’t tell if it’s powdered sugar or flour. Or is it baking powder? I’m no baker.
Yet another thing Sadie has on me.
