Page 8 of Knot Your Sugar Rush
“Jamie!” Theo calls from the back porch. “Did you remember to grab grout for the bakery window?”
“Yup. Also got tile spacers this time, so Dane doesn’t bite my head off.”
“That’s growth,” Theo replies, deadpan.
I round the corner into the kitchen where Dane is hunched over his tablet like it owes him money. He’s shirtless, sweaty, and eating a banana like it personally betrayed him. The kitchen itself is a mix of rustic charm and chaos—cast iron skillets hanging from hooks, herbs drying near the window, a stack of clean-but-unput-away dishes next to the sink.
“Hey,” I say.
He grunts in greeting. Then sees the folder.
“You rented it out?”
I nod. “Signed and sealed.”
He blinks. “To whom? I didn’t even know we had a serious applicant.”
“She’s local. Well, returning local.”
Dane narrows his eyes. “What kind of lease terms are we talking?”
I offer the folder.
He flips it open, scans the first page, then the second. Then he stops.
“Jamie.”
“Hmm?”
“This rent rate is absurd. Did you knock a zero off by accident?”
“Nope.”
“You gave her three months rent-free.”
“Sure did.”
He looks up sharply. “Are you in some kind of sugar-based cult now?”
I grin. “Wouldn’t that be sweet.”
“Don’t start.” He snaps the folder shut and points it at me like a sword. “You’ve officially lost it. What’s she selling—hope? Nostalgia? Gummy worms with gold flakes?”
“Candy,” I say. “The real kind. Handmade. And yeah, some hope too.”
Theo walks in, wiping his hands on a rag, and raises an eyebrow. “Did you approve a tenant without Dane reading the fine print?”
Dane throws his hands up. “He gave her a startup grant disguised as a lease agreement. What if she’s never run a business before?”
“She hasn’t,” I admit. “But she’s got heart. She’s got a plan. And I think she’ll surprise you.”
Dane scowls. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will.”
“I’m serious. I’m going to go check it out myself. Tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have that big city meeting?” Dane curses. He’s so worked up by my lease agreement he’d actually forgotten.
