Page 80 of Half Baked

“I can’t focus with you acting like this, go do something—maybe catch some waves. I’ll find you when I’m done,” he replies sternly.

Beckett in work mode is a dreadfully serious personality. Sometimes, when he’s like this, I forget that he’s the younger brother I’ve dedicated myself to protect. But the stern version of him is exactly what I need right now, so I do as he says and head outside.

I don’t go down to the beach though. Instead, I drop into the pool and start swimming laps. My hope is that he’ll be done sooner than he expects, and I’d like to be near when he’s ready. I cut through the water with a driving force, making it from one end to the other with ease. Ducking below the surface, I flip and kick off the wall to head back the other way.

With each stroke, I pour all my tense energy into my muscles. I push them until I can’t go any faster, a familiar strain pulsing through me. Back and forth, I continue until my body screams. It’s enough to dull my racing thoughts for now. Drifting to the edge, I throw my arms up on the concrete ledge and let myself hang languidly.

The sun warms my back, lulling me into a relaxed state. I might not have followed the business track laid out for me, but Iretained the knowledge to draw up a solid contract, I know it. I remind myself of this fact when pristine leather dress shoes step into my line of sight. Same as the style I was emulating recently.

“It looks good,” Beckett tells me, crouching down to meet my eyes. “You did a nice job with this contract; I wouldn’t change a thing. But do you think she’ll actually go for it?”

I drag my fingers through my hair and shrug. “It’s the only play I’ve got at this point. And honestly, it’s my favorite one thus far, so maybe she’ll feel the same?”

He nods thoughtfully, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I’ve got dinner plans with Stevie. But let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah, will do.”

“Good luck.” He slaps my shoulder and stands once again. “I left it in the office, but I recommend you don’t call her in there to sign it. Meet Poppy on her turf.”

I can just imagine the look on Poppy’s face if I sat down behind the stately mahogany desk and called her into my office. The fire in her eyes would be enough to burn the whole estate down. In different circumstances, it would actually be pretty hot. I make a mental note to work through every room of this house having my way with her. But that’s only if she still talks to me after tonight.

Pulling myself up from the pool, I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist.This will work, I reason as I dry off. After all, it makes perfect business sense, and it won’t cause her to feel like a charity case. That’s the most important part.

I hate how many years she spent thinking I viewed her in such a way. I’ll spend forever showing her that it was never about pity or a simple afterthought. No, the reality is that she’s the center of every thought, every hope I have for my future.

I check the clock on the oven as I step back into the house. By the time I shower and change, I’ll be getting to the bakery just asshe’s closing. Perfect. The bakehouse is the best location for this considering that it’s the subject of the contract.

Chapter 37

Poppy

“I’ll get that paid next week,” I assure the secretary of Bates Construction.

“This should be enough to tide them over until your next due date. But, dear, that one will surely need to be paid in full.”

She’s a kind woman, but I don’t miss the certainty in her tone. I have one month until this all closes in on me. My hand pulls at my lip as she reviews the amount due. The hollowness in my chest manages to bottom out even further as she rattles off numbers.

“Understood, thank you again,” I tell her, ending the call.

I flip the sign on my door to ‘closed’ as a heavy sigh escapes me. It won’t be long until I will have to keep it turned this way permanently.

I spent every spare moment today looking through my finances. At the rate it will take to pay off my past due renovation bills, I would have to be working three times harder than I currently am. Or, at least I have to bring in three times the profit. Maybe if I had someone else to keep it opened for longer hours, seven days a week. Or if I had time to seek out more standing orders like I have with Café Around the Corner.

A single tear slips down my cheek as I lean against the door and take in the space. I wish my grandmother was here to see that I accomplished our dream, even if it was short lived. She’d be so proud, gently patting her hands together, not quiet in a clap—like she used to do when excited. And the way the corner of her eyes would crinkle when she smiled at me, what I wouldn’t give to see that look right now.

I’d love to ask her for advice too. She would have guidance on how to handle this whole situation.

But I don’t have Nana Annette. And soon I won’t have this bakery. What could I even do after this? Maybe Wren can get me hired as the pastry chef at the inn. I would get free reign on the menu there, I assume.

My heart doesn’t lift at the idea because free reign on the menu or not, it still won’t bemine.

Taking my apron off, I wipe a finger across my cheek and catch the second tear that escapes. I feel stupid, thinking the hardest part was over once I opened this place. I worked so hard, for so long. I dedicated all my energy to save up and land this building.

Hayden should have kept it for himself, now neither of us get it.

A gentle rap sounds on the glass behind my head. Spinning, I find Hayden standing on the other side of the door. “I thought I was coming to your house for dinner,” I say as I open it for him.

“Hey, come here.” He tucks a large envelope under his arm and pulls me towards him. With concern etched on his face, he swipes at my tears.

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