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She turns towards the dining area. Andrea and I exchange a look but follow her over to a table near the counter. Her mysteriousness makes me nervous. We’re either in trouble or something serious is going on.
We take a seat, Andrea and I staring at Irene intently. “Well, spit it out already. You’re making me nervous,” I blurt. My hands are a jittery mess resting on the top of the table.
Irene laughs but regains composure quickly. “It’s nothing bad, so stop your worrying. I just needed to sit down with you both. I’m not getting any younger.”
I lean forward, my brow furrowed. That’s one hell of a way to start a conversation. Andrea and I are both on edge with wherever this might go. Irene said it’s nothing to worry about, so why would her age matter then?
“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” Andrea’s voice is filled with concern.
Irene pats Andrea’s hand. “Child, yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the future of this place, the café.”
One moment, instant relief fills me, and the next moment, a barrage of questions fill my mind. “What about it? What do you mean? You aren’t thinking of closing the café, are you?”
“Heavens no, Charlie. This place is my baby.” She laughs. “But I think it’s time for changes.”
“What kind of changes?” Andrea leans against the back of her chair. I can’t guess what she’s thinking by her expression alone.
“I’d like to spend more time with Joe. That means being here less.” Irene pauses and looks at both of us. “How would you two feel about taking over day-to-day operations?”
To say Andrea and I are both stunned is an understatement. I never saw this coming, and judging by the look on Andrea’s face, she didn’t either. I can’t picture the café without Irene here.
Irene continues. “I know it’s a lot to think over. Charlie, you’ve been working on new recipes, and Andrea, you’ve come so far since first starting here. You two can do it. And I won’t just up and disappear on you. I’ll still be here, just not every day.”
I straighten in my seat. I know Andrea and I are both capable of running this place. I just didn’t expect to have the opportunity.
“How soon are you wanting to implement this?” I have so many questions swirling in my mind, but I guess it makes sense to ask that one first.
“Well, I think sooner rather than later. Charlie, I was thinking you might want to partner with me. Your sweets could really take this place up a notch.”
My hands cover my mouth. “Irene, are you serious?” My eyes are wide, and a smile so big it hurts splits my face. I couldn’t hide my excitement if I wanted to, and I don’t.
“Second Chance Café and Bakery has a nice ring to it,” Irene says with a big smile.
Andrea leans over from her seat and pulls me into a hug. “Congratulations, bestie,” she tells me in my ear.
I squeal as she releases me. “This is so exciting! Thank you, Irene!” I stand from my chair and lean over to give her a hug.
She pats my arm. “Now, that’s enough of that. This will still be work, but with you two here, I know this place is in good hands.”
Irene stands and motions toward Andrea. “I couldn’t do this without both of you. We can sit and hammer out the details. However, for now, we better get ready for the lunch rush.”
Irene heads towards the kitchen. Andrea and I link arms and follow behind her. I can’t seem to wipe this the smile from my face. For the first time in a long time, I have a lot to look forward to in the future.
My hips swing to the upbeat song playing over the speakers in my kitchen. The smell of delicious cakes in the oven and the sound of the mixer going on the counter is my happy place. I smile while thinking about the conversation with Irene earlier today.
I was so excited when I came home from work that I immediately ran to my kitchen and started on a recipe I’ve been mulling over in my head for weeks. A lemon vanilla cake with a blueberry pie layer with lemon meringue topping. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
It’ll be super decadent, but I don’t want to sell only simple run-of-the-mill cakes and desserts. I want the café to offer all kinds of fun combinations and desserts people wouldn’t want or think to make at home.
The timer dings, and I drop the spoon I used to stir the reduced blueberries on a glass cooking utensil holder that sits next to the stove. I get the oven mitts and shimmy over to the oven to pull out the lemon-infused vanilla cake. I place it on a cooling mat on the counter and step back to admire just how damn pretty it is.
I squeal, then clap my hands and do another little jig right there in my small but cozy kitchen. Being at home to experiment with my baking fills my heart with so much joy. I love watching someone’s face when they take the first bite of my newest creation.
It’s literally my dream come true for Irene to offer me a stake in the café and to want to expand so we can offer my cakes and desserts. I’m so freaking happy I feel like I could burst with excitement. This is exactly what I want to do and where I want to be.
I’ve never felt such contentment before. There’s only one thing missing. My thoughts stray to a certain uptight but sexy as hell lawyer. One that keeps me up at night thinking about just how skilled he is with those hands of his, not to mention other parts of his body.
I drool a little just thinking about him before turning back to my blueberries. They’re almost done. Now, if I only had a certain someone here with me. Someone who could try my concoctions. Someone who consumes my thoughts and who sets my skin on fire.
