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She still hadn’t gotten past the part where the fire captain had mentioned arson and then looked at her like she was guilty. If this was going to be more false accusations, she wasn’t going to stand by and take it.
Just then the timer for the other oven went off. She sighed.
Simon glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’s okay. You take care of things in here and I’ll get the doo
r.”
She didn’t have any choice but to nod in agreement. The last thing she needed was to ruin a batch of cupcakes, or worse, fill Simon’s penthouse with smoke while the fire marshal was there.
Pepper swapped the finished cupcakes for the unbaked ones. She’d just set the timer when she heard Simon call out her name. She slipped the timer in her pocket, as she didn’t have time to make another batch should these ones accidentally stay in the oven too long.
She headed for the door, all the while preparing herself for more false accusations. When Pepper approached the foyer, she found the two men having a relaxed conversation. She wasn’t sure how to react.
When the fire marshal’s gaze caught hers, he said, “Ms. Kane?”
She nodded. He stuck out his hand, giving hers a brief but firm shake.
“I’m Inspector Hayes. I’ve just completed a total review of the fire at your bakery. I know you and Mr. Ross have been very interested in the results.”
Interested? That was an understatement. When you’re accused of arson, you want your good name cleared as soon as possible.
A denial of any wrongdoing hovered at the back of her mouth, but deciding that it would just make her look guiltier, she held back. Instead, she said, “What have you found?”
He lifted a black leather binder and flipped it open. His gaze scanned the page. “I noticed that you’ve recently had the bakery remodeled. Is that correct?”
“Sort of.” She wondered if everything she said to him was about to be used against her.
As though Simon was reading her thoughts, he asked, “Is this something she should have an attorney for?”
The fire marshal’s head lifted and surprise filled his eyes. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I should have started with the fact that the fire has been ruled an accident. There was some faulty wiring in the kitchen.”
“Oh.” It was all Pepper could muster as the relief hit her.
The fire marshal flipped back to the top sheet. “I just have a few questions that I need answered before I can finalize the report.”
He asked Pepper about the remodel, the date of the remodel and a few other questions. And then he said, “And that should be it. I’ll make sure the insurance company gets a copy.”
“Am I free to get into the building?” Pepper asked.
“Yes. But I’ll caution you to be careful. You’re going to want a clean-up crew in there before you try to do anything.”
They thanked the fire marshal for stopping by and completing the report so quickly. As the man exited the penthouse, Pepper felt like the end of this chapter of her life was looming in the near future. Because once the apartment was cleaned up, there would be no need for her to stay with Simon. Was it wrong that the thought of going home no longer thrilled her? Had the short time she’d spent with Simon made that much of a difference?
Because the longer she was here—the longer they were together—the more she wondered what might have been. And she just couldn’t afford to give her heart to someone else that would leave her. She’d been left behind by everyone she’d loved in her life. She couldn’t do it again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AT LAST THE day had come...
A frigid Tuesday morning made even the snowmen dotting the sides of the streets, dressed in colorful scarves and assorted hats, shiver. A fresh layer of snow blanketed all of New York City.
As Pepper stood on the sidewalk outside her bakery, she didn’t notice the cold or the flakes landing on her hair and coat. A gust of wind rushed past them. Pepper stood like a statue staring forward at the place she’d once called home—still called home, even in its total state of devastation.
The outside of the bakery was still stained with soot trailing up the front of the white painted bricks. Plywood covered all the windows.
The back of her eyes stung with unshed tears. Her stomach made a nauseous lurch. She struggled to maintain her composure.
She blinked. The nightmare was still there, playing out in a slow, excruciating sequence. Would the interior be better than she was imagining? Or worse? Her palms grew clammy. She didn’t want to see the inside of the bakery—yet she had to see it.
