Page 37 of Knot So Sweet
But we both know it's not entirely true.
She wraps the pastries in napkins with careful precision. Like someone who's learned not to take abundance for granted. Then she walks toward the narrow staircase, her footsteps soft on the old wood floors. She pauses at the bottom, turning to look back at me.
"I'll start working on some preliminary ideas tonight. Maybe draft a few different approaches so you can see what direction appeals to you."
I'm already back at my workstation, starting on a new batch. "You don't have to..."
She shakes her head, one hand on the banister. "I want to. This is the first opportunity I've had in months to do work I actually care about. I'm not going to waste it."
The determination in her voice hits me harder than it should.
"Good." I manage, not looking up from the flour I'm measuring.
She nods and starts up the stairs, her footsteps creaking on each step. Halfway up, she pauses, turning.
"Garrick?"
I look up. "Yeah?"
"Thank you. For agreeing. I know you didn't want to."
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen me during deadline pressure."
But she just smiles. Then continues climbing the stairs, disappearing from view.
The soft click of the apartment door echoes through the bakery, leaving me with Liam and the lingering traces of her vanilla-honey scent.
Liam's still leaning against the counter, watching me with that knowing look.
"She's going to be okay." He comments quietly.
I measure out salt, adding it to the bowl. "I know."
"And you're going to survive this too."
"Never claimed I wouldn't." I start mixing, my hands working on autopilot.
Liam snorts, pushing off the counter to pace toward the window. "Right. Because nothing says 'completely under control' like agreeing to let her write about you after saying no five times."
I look down at the mixture in the bowl. He's right, damn him.
"This is why I don't want complications." I mutter, reaching for the water.
Liam turns from the window, walking back toward me. "This is why you need complications. You've been hiding behind your routines for three years. Maybe it's time to let someone in."
"She's not staying." I pour water into the mixture, watching it absorb. "Once her car's fixed and she's saved money, she'll move on to Texas."
"Or maybe she'll find reasons to stay." Liam leans against the counter again, his tone shifting to something more serious.
There's something in his voice that makes me look at him more closely. "What aren't you telling me?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Her cousin in Dallas. The one she's supposedly going to stay with? Lost her job last month. Has two kids and can't afford to take in a houseguest."
The information settles heavy in my chest. My hands still in the dough. "She has nowhere to go."
"Nowhere concrete. Which is why this writing opportunity could be exactly what she needs. A chance to build something solid instead of just getting by." Liam straightens, checking his watch.
I process this, my hands resuming their work automatically. Try to reconcile it with my mental image of Violet as a temporary problem.
