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“It’s just a pink building,” I said, shrugging it off. It would honestly probably only help my business. I assumed that it was going to be a clothing store or a florist shop.
“Did you not read the sign?” He asked, pointing to the small sign in the corner of the window. The interior of the windows was obscured by paper to conceal the contents, but a small white sign was indeed present in the corner.
The Pink Bakery: full-service bakery—coming soon!
I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised or mad. The store right next to mine was a bakery. Which meant they probably served cookies. I was going to serve cookies. And this person—who obviously loved pink—would be a threat to my business.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered ifsheknew about this. Pink was her favorite color and she would probably adore this. In fact, something like this would have been her dream. How I was still thinking about her eight years later was beyond me, but I’d gotten used to random things reminding me of her.
I shook thoughts of her from my mind and just shrugged at Jackson. “Not worried about it. My cookies are going to be the talk of the island. You’ll see.”
3
Emma
“Girl!” My sister, Isabella, squealed as she looked around my finished bakery. Pink was everywhere. The floors were a checkered pink and white tile (which I laid myself), the walls were a beautiful creamy white with a massive pink neon sign with the bakery name, and my cases were pink. Pink and white flowers decorated the windows, and the greenery draped across the walls in the most stunning ways. White bistro tables were placed around the room, each one with a small bouquet in a vase. Though I had come up with a lot of great names for my store,The Pink Bakerywas just too fitting. Everything was perfect, and the store smelledamazing. But of course, it did, because I had just finished my first set of bread.
“Do you like it?” I asked her, though I knew that she did by the look on her face. I just wanted her to say it anyway.
“Of course! Scarlett will freak out when she gets here! This is the most perfect bakery I’ve ever seen!” She clapped and immediately reached for the macaron tower that was on my check-out counter. I’d made them yesterday, as macarons needed at least twenty-four hours after baking to taste just right. Needless to say, the tower was filled with different flavors of macarons, but all of them were different shades of pink. I wouldn’t always stick to pink items, but I justneededto for tonight.
All of my friends and family would be coming tonight, the night before my grand opening, and enjoying treats and champagne with me to celebrate this massive moment. I had finally done it. Three months of hard work, elbow grease, and a lot of butter had led me to this moment, and I was stoked to have everyone important to me joining me. Even my youngest sister Scarlett had flown in for tonight and was currently in an Uber on her way here.
“Em! This isprecious!” My best friend flew at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Despite the doorbell I installed, I hadn’t even seen her come in, but my happiness spiked again, knowing she had come.
“Jenny!” I squeezed her back before she pulled away, looking around the store.
“Only you would be able to pull off this much pink and make it look amazing! You’re for sure going to be the hottest place in town!” She looked around in awe and my heart twinged. I hoped she was right, because that was all I wanted. Her eyes landed on the macaron tower and she lunged for it, taking three immediately. Without hesitation, she shoved an entire one into her mouth, closing her eyes as she tasted it. She attempted to convey her appreciation, and while I could sense her enthusiasm, her words were mostly incoherent due to the fact that she had yet to swallow the crumbly goodness in her mouth.
More of my friends were coming in and giving me hugs and praises, and my heart rate was picking up. I didn’t know I’d ever been this excited in my whole life.
I went to the back to pull more macarons from the cooler because they were quickly disappearing. Two years ago, I’d taken up the practice of making them and soon became obsessed. I would say I’ve perfected the art of macaron-making, but no one ever really does. It’s impossible. There would always be batches that messed up with how fickle the tiny cookies were. But if anyone was close to perfect at making them, it was me. And all of my friends and family were obsessed with them, to say the least. I brought them to every social gathering I attended, though not by choice. More like by demand. Jenny even threatened to uninvite me if I didn’t bring them to her Friendsgiving last year.
When I emerged back into the front room with the box of macarons, I saw my youngest sister walk in. Hastily, I set the box down and ran to her, Isabella met me there, and the three of us hugged together. We were definitely giggling and screeching in an unbecoming way, but it had been over a year since all of us had gotten together. Ever since Scarlett moved to New York City, it was hard for all of us to align our schedules.
“Emma!” Scarlett squeezed my arm as she looked around. “Stop it! This place is amazing!”
“I’m just so glad you could make it!” I said, the bridge of my nose burning. I was so happy, but the urge to cry was overwhelming. I blinked hard against the tears that were threatening.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!” She grinned, and I just couldn’t stop looking at her and Isabella. This truly was the most exciting day ever because all three of us were back togetherandwas opening my dream business tomorrow.
Growing up, we had all been pretty close. I attributed that to the fact that we weren’t super close in age or size, so we never had to worry about sharing friends or clothes. We were able to be there for each other without all of the bickering and arguing most sisters endured. I was the oldest at twenty-eight, and I was also the tallest. Isabella and Scarlett got lucky and were both around five-foot-five while I was stuck at five-foot-ten. I definitely got my father’s genes when it came to height, but I usually didn’t mind.
Within an hour, everyone important to me was in my bakery. My parents came as I knew they would, and were excited that all three of their daughters were here together. I’d received the best compliments from everyone about how they loved the layout and decor of the bakery, and I couldn’t have been happier. My dream was a reality now, and I was brought to tears by the support everyone was giving.
The macarons were the first to go, and I refused to get any more out because then I wouldn’t have enough for tomorrow. And I’d specifically advertised having a wide range of macarons on the flyers I’d posted around town. So everyone had to switch to cupcakes (that I’d decorated with pink candy pearls and white icing) or chocolate chip cookies…which I’d perfected the recipe of years ago.
“Emma!” Hailey approached me after exiting what seemed to be a tense conversation with some of our friends. Hailey had been my closest friend at the local restaurant I worked at, and she an three other servers we worked with came tonight. “Did you hear what’s going on next door?”
“In the black building?” I asked for clarity. Of course, the building to the left of mine was already an independent bookstore, so that only left the building to my right, which was recently painted black. There was still no signage outside to tell me what it could possibly be.
“Yeah, that one! Did you know it was going to be a cookie store?” Her face showed alarm, as if she was worried this was the first time I’d heard about it.
And well, it was. My stomach sank and for a moment, I thought I would toss up all of the cookies I had eaten tonight.
“What do you mean?” I asked quietly, hoping that I’d heard her wrong.
“A cookie store. Like a cookie bakery! Can you believe that! Why would they allow two bakeries right next to each other?” Hailey touched my arm in comfort, but I just shrugged, hoping that I wasn’t showing too much emotion on my face.
