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December 5th…20 Days Until Christmas…
“You said no to the kiss? Good for you!” Sarah sounded impressed on the other end of the call as Jessica walked down the street toward the bakery the next morning—a little later than usual. She cradled her cell between her shoulder and ear, carrying several boxes of holiday lights and decorations for her shop window.
“Yeah, only my playing hard to get left me wanting all evening, too.” As soon as she’d gone inside, she’d had to resist every urge to open the door and run after his car. The date with Mitch had been perfect. She refused to consider that she may have put him off by the rejection of the kiss. There was always next time.
At least there would be a next time and she wouldn’t get hung up on just how many next times. One date at a time.
“Well, he looked happier last night entering the B&B than he was the day he checked in, or yesterday when he was heading out, so he obviously had a good time,” Sarah said. “And wow, Mitch Jameson. Mitch and Jess…has a nice ring to it.”
Jessica laughed. This was why she loved Sarah. She could dream-plan a future with a man she’d dated once and Sarah was along for the ride. At least, this new blissfully in love version of her best friend. Before reuniting with Wes, Sarah would have been a tad more cautious or cynical in her advice, but after getting an unexpected chance at happily ever after with her longtime secret love, Sarah was definitely a different woman these days.
“When are you seeing him again?” Sarah asked.
“Not sure. We didn’t make any real plans, but he took my number.” He’d sent a “thanks again for a great night” text about an hour after dropping her off. But she did that even after nights out with her aunt, so she wasn’t sure she could read too much into it, and he hadn’t texted yet that day…
“Well, keep me posted,” Sarah said.
Seeing a man dressed in an expensive-looking suit and shiny brown dress shoes, leaning up against the exterior brick wall, Jessica sighed. “Hey, Sarah, I have to go. Call you later.” She let her phone slide from her shoulder into the top of the box as she approached the bakery.
That was a Not Just Desserts rep. She could spot them a mile away. Unfortunately, his timing sucked. So much for the euphoric high she’d been riding that morning. The temptation to turn and walk back in the other direction was strong, but he’d spotted her.
Too late.
“Good morning,” she said, stopping next to him and juggling a box on one hip. She unlocked the bakery door.
“Is it still morning?” He checked his Rolex.
She clenched her jaw. “It’s not noon yet. Mr. Dorsey, I presume?”
He nodded. “Getting a bit of a late start, though, aren’t you?” He pointed to theHours of Operationsign in her window.
“I didn’t realize I was punching a time clock.” He didn’t own her bakery yet and he’d never ownher. She pushed against the door, and surprisingly he held it open as she entered, then set the box down in front of the window. She flicked the lights on and flipped the open/closed sign so theOpenside was facing out.
“Just an observation,” he said, scanning the bakery.
“I had a later than usual night.” Wait a minute, why was she explaining herself to this guy? He should be explaining why he was lurking outside her business. Of course, he probably thought it was the last resort, seeing as she’d been avoiding his calls and emails over the last two weeks.
She hated that of all mornings, he’d chosen this one to stop by. She was a professional business owner and being late to work was something she rarely did. But that morning she’d still been riding high from her date with Mitch the night before and hugging the bed for an extra hour had seemed blissful.
“Coffee?” she asked. She hoped not too many people had seen him outside. If she decided to sell,shewanted to be the one to tell her customers. They were her community and friends. Already there was a rumor circulating, though. Lia had even caught wind of it earlier that year when they’d first approached Jessica, but she didn’t want anyone thinking that the sale was a done deal, just yet. It wasn’t.
“Decaf, please,” he said, surveying the delivery shelf. “These all for today?”
She nodded, her teeth clenching.
Please step away from the shelf.
“Eighteen deliveries for one day? Is that standard?”
“This time of year, yes. Some days are slower, but I have most of the business accounts around here and most generally place an order once a week for catered staff meetings and office parties throughout the month of December, so the work is steady.”
He glanced into the kitchen. “What about custom cakes for birthdays and weddings? How well are they doing this time of year?”
She filled the coffeepot and changed the filter before answering. “Mr. Dorsey, I’ve spent a lot of time building this business to what it is. People order from Delicious Delicacies because they are confident in the consistency of my products. If you are successful in buying this bakery, you can’t assume the business will automatically transfer.”
He smiled, but it didn’t look sincere. “We’re not worried about it.”
Of course not.
