I pull my gloves back on and grab the chute handle, done talking about it. But the math is already running in my head and I can't shut it off. Seven years old… Emily and I were together until I left for boot camp. She wasn't with anyone else that I know of back then.
So either these losers are wrong and that kid is younger than they think… Or Emily cheated on me. Because the other option—the one where I'm a father and she never told me about it—just isn't thinkable right now.
She wouldn’t do that to me.
I can't believe she would do that.
10
EMILY
The bus pulls away and I watch it until it turns the corner, then I walk back toward the bakery wiping my hands on my apron. Mercy was in a good mood this morning, chatty and excited about some art project they're doing in class. I walk back into the bakery expecting that energy to carry me through the morning rush, after which I will sink into my office chair exhausted.
But Leah's ringing up a customer when I come through the back door. She catches my eye through the pass-through and holds up a finger, finishes the transaction, then leans toward me.
"Your boyfriend stopped by."
My stomach drops. "He's not my boyfriend." I know exactly who she's speaking about before she even says his name and already, I feel the energy Mercy boosted me with fizzling out.
"Well, whoever he is, he bought a muffin and a coffee and asked me to tell you he came in." She grins at me sideways as I scowl, then glances at Karen, who takes her spot at the register. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, Leah. Just tell me what he said." The idea of Jaxon hovering around the fringes of my life was one thing. This is entirely another. He can't just stalk me at my own bakery. I bite the inside of my cheek and feel my blood pressure rising. It's not unreasonable to think he'd stop by for a coffee and muffin before work, but I don't have to like it.
"He said to tell you he stopped by. That's it." She turns back to the register only to find Karen there, then peeks at me over her shoulder. "You sure you're fine? You look a little?—"
"I said I'm fine." I grab a rag and start wiping down the prep counter even though it's already clean. Then I reorganize the muffin trays in the display case. Then I snap at Karen for leaving a stack of order slips on top of the register instead of clipping them to the board where they belong, which is something she does every single day and I've never once cared about until right now.
I'm riled up, flustered by my own fear of Jaxon finding out about Mercy. If I'd have just told him already, I wouldn't feel this way. Maybe I'd feel worse, or maybe he would just leave me alone because he realizes how hurt I must've been to hide something like this from him. Either way, the women who work for me are taking the brunt of my bad attitude and it's not even their fault.
When I slam the walk-in cooler door, it gets their attention.
"Emily." Karen sets down her tongs and stares at me. "What is your problem this morning?"
"Nothing's wrong, I just need things where they're supposed to be." My cheeks burn as I stomp toward the ovens to check the next batch of muffins ready to come out any minute, but Karen is being feisty. She stands in my way.
"They are where they're supposed to be. You're being?—"
"She's being a nightmare," Leah finishes from the register, not even looking up. "Em, go sit down. We've got this."
"I don't need to sit down." When I turn toward the front, I see the line has dwindled to only two customers, and both of those older women look sympathetic. I hate pity, so I turn away, chewing my cheek like it's bubble gum. I am so mad, and I feel like my world is being invaded by someone I tried to keep out for too long.
"You've wiped that counter three times and you just yelled at Karen." Leah finally looks at me and sighs as she says, "Go sit in your office for ten minutes. We're slammed and we can't babysit you right now."
She's right and I know it. I set the rag down and walk back to my office, shutting the door behind me. The desk is buried in paperwork I've been avoiding all week, order forms and invoices and a stack of mail I haven't opened. I drop into the chair and press my hands over my face, attempting to calm myself. It's not working, though.
Jaxon was here.
One minute earlier and he would've seen Mercy. Just one minute, and eight years of keeping this secret would've blown apart right there on the sidewalk for half of Beaufort to see. Then what? A custody battle or just the small-town drama I'm positive Charity would devour if she were here. And my life gets turned upside down, when this is all his fault. He was supposed to call home and he didn't.
My parents don't even know, and how am I supposed to tell them that I've been lying about Mercy's father for the past sevenand a half years? Besides that, Roger's been here this whole time, and he'll be hurt. And dammit if I don't feel a boatload of guilt that Chelsie had a granddaughter she never got to meet before she died.
Tears well up, but I pinch the bridge of my nose and blink them back. As mad as I am at Jaxon, I know it's all my fault. I didn't do the right thing by anyone. I chose to do what I did in keeping it a secret as a means of self-protection. I didn't want to feel hurt so I hid, and now it's coming back to bite me.
The anger is getting to me, making me get lost in the past when the present needs my attention. So I focus on the bills in front of me. I manage to open and organize half the stack before I see a letter from Langford Developers printed on thick, fancy paper with a letterhead that looks like a lawyer wrote it.
"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter to nobody.
They're offering me ten times the market value? They've laid it out with projected valuations, development timelines, a whole paragraph aboutcommunity revitalization. It disgusts me. They're not interested in bettering our town at all. They don't care a lick about what happens in Beaufort as long as they make money off it, and I'm not going to cave in and let them have what they want. We don't want a tourist trap. We want our quiet, small town.
