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“Those are for the guests,” he says with his back to me.
I don’t know how he knows, but he always does. “Charge my room.”
He snorts a laugh and shakes his head. His graying brown hair is thinner than it used to be, and his shoulders rounder. But he’s still the same guy who used to do all the repairs to the B&B himself and give the best piggyback rides. Those shoulders have seen a lot of wear and tear over the years. It’s no wonder that they slouch now. “You know, I have it on good authority that you could be making those pastries instead of just eating them and making us buy more from the bakery in town.”
“I’m a chef. Not a baker.”
He chuckles. “As you have said many, many times. But I still don’t understand the difference.”
“I cook. Cooking is all about instinct and changing things on the fly, and knowing your ingredients and how the seasons affect every little detail, and you have to taste and experience it all. It’s about being in the moment.”
He turns a little to frown at me. “And baking?”
“Edible chemistry projects.”
He laughs. “How’s that?”
“Baking is all about being able to do the same thing repeatedly with the same ingredients. Bread is this thing that people rely on to be consistent. Same with any other baked good. And you can’t really taste as you go along, because eating raw dough is bad for you.Andyour product isn’t ready in a few minutes. It’s all based on chemistry that you hope you got right, but you won’t know forhours!” I shudder at the thought. “I mean, there’s a lot of science that goes into cooking, too, but it’s totally different from baking. Baking is way too much pressure.”
He shrugs. “Well, you could make breakfast—
“I can’t cook for other people en masse like that, Dad. Not anytime soon.” I finger my necklace, thinking about the question.
“It’s been some time, Lily. You have to get back on the horse.”
“Not long enough.”
He sighs.
My thoughts return to the bad wiring that caused the freak fire in the restaurant and ruined my life. Paxton turned out to be less reliable than a ham sandwich—
“I still don’t understand how the whole thing with the insurance payments could have happened. What was up with Paxton?”
“He didn’t keep up with the insurance payments and it lapsed. Evidently, he had been letting it almost lapse for a couple of years, unbeknownst to me, so when I called them and tried to work something out, they weren’t having it.”
“That’s crap.”
Nodding, I nibble more of the pastry for comfort. “I know. It pisses me off, too, but I get it. We weren’t a good investment for them.” Those words make my pastry taste off. “I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s okay.”
“Well, what now? How is that babysitting job?”
I chuckle. “I’m nannying, Dad.”
“Right. How’s it going?”
“Really well, weirdly.”
“Why weirdly?”
I shake my head. “Never thought I’d be a nanny. Never would have occurred to me to even try it out, had Aria not lined the job up already.”
“And you like it? Being with the kids?”
I smile instantly. “I do. They’re a little high-strung, but I think it’s just because they’ve had no one to really engage them.”
“They have parents—
“Parents who both work. I’m sure if they had a stay-at-home parent, they’d probably be fine. But without someone there for them like that, kids with their kind of energy run amok. So far, they’ve been really great.”
