Page 22 of The Sweetest Ingredient

Tuition for the conservatory wouldn’t be cheap, and even with financial aid, we’d still need to cover other expenses. My shaky career at Doughy Desires suddenly seemed much more precarious.

Bree’s smile faded, her bright eyes clouding with worry. “I know the tuition...it’s massive. More than we can handle right now.”

“It is, Bree,” I murmured, pressing the acceptance letter between our hands. “But you’re incredibly talented, and this is your dream. We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Bree blinked back tears, nodding. “I just...I don’t want to be another burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” I assured her, pulling her into a hug. “This is a chance of a lifetime for you.”

My lips curled inward, trying to work out a solution in my head. Bree didn’t deserve to have her dreams crushed just because we were barely surviving from paycheck-to-paycheck right now. We could always count on each other, and I couldn’t let her down.

Mochi released an enthusiastic bark.

“Mochi’s excited about your acceptance, too.”

Bree laughed, shaking her head at our energetic furball. A deep-seated affection swirled within me, a blend of fondness and love for my sister.

I took a deep breath, turning to Bree. “I promise we’ll make this work, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get there.”

“Thanks, Kenzi.” Tears brightened her eyes. “I couldn’t ask for a better sister.”

And as Mochi continued to frolic around us, I promised myself that I’d find a way for Bree to achieve her dreams.

Chapter Nine

Pushing through the bakery doors each morning, I was met with an increasingly disheartening sight. The once bustling seating area was vacant. I tied on my apron, the cheerful jingle of the bell above the door now a rare occurrence. With no customers, I cleaned and restocked the display-case with fresh pastries.

An hour later, the door swung open and Bishop strode in, pausing in front of the counter. Instantly, my heart fluttered like a deranged hummingbird.

Bishop inspected the seating area. He scowled, as if taking a personal offense at the quiet emptiness that followed the earlier busy hours.

“Hello there, boss,” I said. “You’re looking especially grumpy today.”

“That’s because I’ve had a strange and disturbing morning.”

“Uh-oh, sounds serious.” I leaned closer. “What happened?”

Before he could answer, Mrs. Henderson, a regular customer, entered the bakery with Mr. Patel. They looked anxious as they approached us.

I stepped away from Bishop to greet them. “Good morning. What can I get for you?”

“Actually, sweetheart,” Mrs. Henderson said hesitantly and glanced at Bishop. “We’ve heard some rather unsettling rumors about the bakery.”

“Oh?”

“Someone’s saying you use low-quality ingredients and had a rat infestation,” Mr. Patel said with a haughty sniff. “We wanted to make sure it wasn’t true.”

“Of course it’s not true,” Bishop said, his voice hard. “Our ingredients are always fresh and high-quality. And we’ve never had any rodents in my establishment.”

I pointed at my boss with my thumb. “Yeah. What he said.”

Mrs. Henderson exhaled through her nose. “We knew it couldn’t be true, but we thought you should know what people are saying.”

Mr. Patel clucked his tongue. “It’s such a shame when people spread such vicious lies.”

“It certainly is.” I tried not to roll my eyes at these two gossips.

After Mrs. Henderson and Mr. Patel left the bakery, Bishop turned to me.

---