He still hadn’t mentioned our breakup and I wasn’t sure if that meant he felt as bad as I did or if he didn’t feel anything at all, but I didn’t think he was as unaffected as he made out.
I remembered what Cash had said—that I made Chase happy. We might not be dating anymore, but I still wanted Chase to be happy. With that in mind, I started one of the small stand mixers and threw in the ingredients for a single batch of peanut butter cookies.
Tyler saw what I was doing and grinned at me. “We got those new boxes under the counter. The fancy ones.”
Fancy was one word for it. Horrific was another. I could see what Bobby had been going for with Gobble de Goose written on them in fancy lettering, but the badly drawn goose giving a thumbs-up really took away from the whole attempt at elegance. It was like someone had been given access to MS Paint and a bottle of whiskey at the same time—and since this was Bobby we were talking about, there was no guarantee that wasn’t exactly what had happened.
“Maybe,” I said, but we both knew it was gonna happen. As soon as the cookies were baked and cooled, I’d pack them in a fancy box. Hell, I’d probably use one of the new goose-shaped stickers to seal it shut.
“I’ve been thinking about cakes,” Tyler said.
“You hate cakes.”
“I hatecupcakes,” he clarified. “Fiddly fuckers. But you always talk about custom cakes. Why not wedding cakes too?”
“Fuck fondant, man.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But do you think Bobby would let me use the kitchen here if I wanted to get into that on the side?”
“That something you’re interested in?”
“Yeah, I think so. Jess’s sister’s getting married. Just a backyard wedding, nothing fancy, but she asked if I’d make the cake. It got me looking into them, you know? I’d like to give it a shot. And this is an incredible fucking kitchen.”
“I’ll check with him,” I said, “but I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” Knowing Bobby, he’d probably go right ahead and get his officiant’s license so he could offer package deals at the Adventurama. And he’d train Lucille up to be a ring bearer.
It had been a gamble, agreeing to start at Gobble de Goose, and I’d been worried not just for my own career but Tyler’s too. But this place, in this poky little town, and our crazy weird boss had been amazing. It wasn’t where I’d imagined myself, not in a thousand years, but I didn’t regret a second of it. I didn’t even regret Chase and the bruised heart he’d left me with. It still hurt like hell, and maybe it always would, but I didn’t regret it.
I only regretted that it was done, because the ball was in Chase’s court now and that was where it was going to stay. Cash’s words from last night were still swirling around in my mind.
He said, “I didn’t even want it anyway.” That’s the only way he could pretend it didn’t hurt.
How exhausting it had to be, living under the weight of those walls, and how isolating. My chest ached at the thought.
The timer beeped on the oven and I pulled the fresh cookies out and transferred them to a cooling rack. By the time I’d finished prepping the bread dough for the next morning, the cookies were cool, so I filled a box and yes, I used the dumb goose sticker to seal it before putting it to one side.
The rest of the day went smoothly enough. We had no major hiccups, and Chase even came in the back once or twice to see if we needed help with anything when he was between customers. I called Bobby on my break to see if he cared about Tyler using the kitchen after hours, and of course he didn’t. I even mentioned to him that we were doing so well we might want to think about extending our hours and hiring more staff. He thought that sounded great too and promised he’d swing by sometime later in the week to discuss it.
All in all, I was feeling pretty good by the time we closed up. I heard Tyler heading out and calling goodbye to Chase as he left. A few moments after that, Chase stuck his head in the back. “Door’s locked.”
Before he could bolt like he’d done the day before, I said, “Hey.”
He paused, leaning on the doorframe and shooting me a suspicious look.
“C’mere,” I said. “I have cookies.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up despite himself. “Wow. That doesn’t sound sketchy at all. Got a white van parked out back?”
“Shut up,” I said, but the fact he hadn’t shut me down completely was encouraging. I held up the box. “Peanut butter. Baked them fresh.”
He hesitated. “Did you spit in them or something?”
I rolled my eyes. “I can take them home to Sam if you don’t want them.”
“No,” he said quickly, darting forward and snatching the box. He ran his thumb over the sticker. “This doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about us.”
“I know that.” I leaned back against the counter.
“Then why?” he asked, rattling the box.
