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She studied him. “So you did it because people expected you to do it, even though you, personally, didn’t enjoy it.”

“Something like that. But enough about me. What can I do to help you?”

“You were helping me.”

“I was?” He didn’t follow her meaning.

She nodded. “By talking about yourself and your party for just a few brief seconds, I was able to think about something besides the nightmare that is now my life.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t used to talking about himself. In fact, he made it a point to share as little as possible, because whatever he told people eventually ended up on some tabloid site.

But Pepper was different. He’d told her a lot about himself and none of it had ended up on any gossip sites. All their morning chat sessions had been kept private.

And even after their night together, when things had gone terribly wrong, she still hadn’t turned to the tabloids and vented. Was it wrong that he’d braced himself for that exact eventuality? How could he have doubted Pepper’s character? She was exactly what she seemed—a wonderful, caring person.

* * *

The events of last night felt like a nightmare.

The problem was, when she woke up this morning, it was all real.

With her stomach now settled, Pepper was on the subway headed toward her bakery. Wearing the same clothes she’d had on yesterday, she sat on the bench as her stop quickly approached.

Soon she would be back at the bakery—or what was left of it. She wrung her hands together. She was hoping in the light of day that the damage would be less than she imagined. Maybe it was just a small stove fire that could be quickly and easily remedied. Could she be that lucky?

She didn’t consider herself a lucky person. Everything she’d gained in life she’d worked for, or it had come with a very dear price. Her thoughts turned to the loss of her grandmother and the modest inheritance she’d received. At first, she hadn’t wanted to take the money. It just felt wrong to take her grandmother’s money and roll it into her dream of a bakery.

And then she’d received a letter from her grandmother’s attorney. Her grandmother had written her a short but pointed letter, basically ordering Pepper to follow her dreams. It was so like her grandmother to propel her forward into the unknown, because nothing was gained without taking chances.

But now it had all gone up in smoke. The thought weighed heavy on her heart. She had no idea where to go from here. She definitely needed a plan ASAP.

She couldn’t believe Simon had cared for her. She must have been a pathetic mess, for him to take her home last night. She knew the only reason he would take her in would be pity. Because she knew without a doubt that he had absolutely no feelings for her.

It was nice that he’d lingered around the penthouse that morning to make sure she was feeling better and over the shock of the fire. He’d left before her, but she didn’t waste much time. She had to find somewhere to live besides Simon’s place. She hoped that it would be back in her apartment.

She exited the subway and made her way toward Mulberry Street. It wasn’t far from here. Light flurries fell from the sky, melting as the snow hit the sidewalk. Normally, she’d enjoy the wintery scene, but today she was too distraught to find the beauty in anything.

Her feet felt heavy as she walked. Her steps weren’t as quick as they’d normally be. All the while, she tried to prepare herself for what she might see, but how did one prepare for the end of a dream?

As she turned the corner, she caught her first glimpse of the bakery. There was yellow caution tape up around it. Pepper barely noticed the people she passed on the sidewalk or the cars rushing up the road. Her sole focus was on the bakery.

And then she stopped across the street from it. Her heart clenched. Her beautiful bakery was a broken, sooty mess. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. She’d fallen apart last night, but today she had to keep it together. She had to formulate a plan.

She hesitated. She stood there taking in the boarded-up display window and the stripes of soot running up the white painted brick. The black awning seemed to have fared okay. She crossed the street, finding it was only an illusion. Upon closer inspection, she could see the toll the fire had taken on the material. I

t would need replacing.

It might be a mess, but the bakery was still standing. That had to be a good sign. A glimmer of hope flickered within her. Was it possible to rebuild her beloved bakery?

She moved to the door. There was a sign on it, but she didn’t pause to read it. She was anxious to get inside and see what needed to be done.

Her hand touched the door handle just as it was pulled open. A tall man in a firefighter’s jacket stood there. His expression was serious as he frowned at her.

“You can’t be here. Didn’t you read the sign?”

“But I own the bakery.”

He nodded. “You still can’t be here.”

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