“I’d buy them,” I say.
Zane coughs into his fist, which makes Cole’s ears even more pink.
“Most of my ideas are useless.” Cole looks down. “No one cares about coupons or loyalty cards here, and tourists want ‘authentic,’ which means the same thing forever.”
I flip through the rest of the notebook. There are plenty of ideas, actually, but they’re scattered. Some about themed bakes (“Viking Week”), some about local delivery. Some are just wishful thinking (“Hire someone who is not me to handle social media”). There’s even a whole page about hosting a Cornish bakeoff.
“This is great.” Cole gives me a pointed stare. “I mean it! You’ve got a ton of stuff here.”
“I’m not an expert.” Cole shrugs. “I’m a baker.”
I slide the notebook back to him. “Well, you’re in luck because I’m a marketing expert with a useless degree and an entire summer with nothing to do.”
He stares. “You… have a marketing degree?”
“Omega Finishing School, remember?” I say, but he doesn’t laugh. Zane nearly facepalms. “That’s a joke, obviously. I went to uni, specialized in communications and branding. I did afew internships here and there before returning to do Omega Finishing School, but still.”
Cole’s face splits into a wide, bright smile. “That’s… amazing. But I can’t ask you to work for free?—”
“Who said anything about work?” I snatch a cinnamon twist from the tray, break it in half, and offer him the bigger piece. “I’m bored out of my mind, and if I don’t do something with my time, Zane’s going to force me to learn more self-defense or something. So. Let me help.”
Cole looks at Zane, who shrugs. “Helena’s the best.”
I almost choke on the pastry. Zane’s not known for his compliments.
Cole sighs, like he’s giving up a losing battle, but he’s smiling as he does. “If you’re sure.”
I wink at him. “Too late. I’m already crafting ideas for you.”
He groans, but it’s a happy groan. “I’ll set you up at the back table. Best seat in the house.”
“First, I want to try the new pasty you posted about,” I say. “The curry one?”
He lights up, proud. “You got it. One experimental Cornish curry pasty, coming up.”
Zane follows me to the back of the bakery, where the table is scattered with newspapers and empty coffee cups. I clear a space and open the notebook. Already, my brain is popping off with ideas. Social media blitz, sure, but also pop-up shops at the quay, branded picnic baskets, and—most importantly—collaborations with local artists. Maybe even a pasty-eating contest for the tourist crowd.
There’s something about making a business run that feels more satisfying than anything I did in finishing school. It’s the kind of career my father would never let me get into knowing he also wants me to be at home raising children for a pack.
Cole brings me the pasty. It’s golden and piping hot, the crust flaky and delicate as lace. He watches me like I were the first customer he ever served while I take a bite.
It’s incredible. Curry, but not too spicy. Flecked with something sweet and wrapped in the buttery pastry that makes Seamuse famous. “It’s perfect.”
Cole releases a relieved breath. It makes me want to hug him.
“This is going to save the bakery,” I say.
“Only if you help me,” Cole replies, still shy, but there’s a new hope in his voice.
“Deal.” I start scribbling in his notebook, ideas pouring out as fast as I can write them. “Now, let me get to work.”
Cole ducks out of the room while Zane tucks into a corner to pretend to read the issue of newspaper he snagged on the way here. I catch Zane glancing at me every now and then, like he’s actually proud of me for using my degree.
I’m kind of proud of me, too. For a while, I thought I’d simply thrown it away by going to Omega Finishing School after obtaining this degree. But now… Now I dangerously see a worth in which both educations might be equally useful.
So I get right to work.
CHAPTER 14
