Page 39 of The Sweetest Ingredient

Chantel’s mouth dropped open. “No way, that’s amazing!” She did an impromptu celebratory dance right there on the sidewalk, then faced me. “Your sister must be thrilled. What an accomplishment.”

“Bree’s had her heart set on attending for years. But it’s expensive, and even with the partial scholarship she secured, there are other expenses, supplies, textbooks...you get the idea.”

Chantel nodded. “I can only imagine. Have you figured out how you’ll pay for it?”

We resumed walking along the sidewalk. We passed a hair salon, the fragrance of hairspray and bleach wafting on the breeze.

“Not yet, and Bishop promised me a raise. But if that doesn’t happen, I’m going to do whatever I can to support my sister.” I sighed. “If only life were like a cheesy movie where I’d trip over a suitcase brimming with cash, or discover I’m the long-lost heiress of a rich uncle.”

She giggled. “Well, there’s always Plan B. Wooing Walter, the millionaire octogenarian.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’d rather date my coffee mug than court Walter for his bank account.”

She shrugged. “But think of the perks. Luxury yachts, fancy dinners, and all the denture cream you can dream of.”

I laughed. “Oh, sure. Nothing screams romance like a sunset cruise with a side of arthritis. I’d have to trade in my heels for orthopedic shoes.”

“Don’t forget the early bird specials. You’d be done with dinner before nightfall,” she said, barely containing her laughter.

“True. I’d gain a fortune and become the queen of bingo at the next church gathering…” I blew out a breath. “All joking aside, Walter sounds like a nice guy, and he’s deserves a nice widow. We should fix him up with Miss Jenkins.” Smiling, I bumped her shoulder with mine. “So, I’ll stick to my ramen and reality.”

She touched my shoulder and her voice grew somber. “Look, I’m always here if you need help financially. I don’t have much, but it’s yours if you ever want it.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks for the offer, but I couldn’t ask for more than your friendship, and I’m determined to figure this out on my own.”

“And soon you’ll be the queen of pet treats, alongside the king of pastries. You’ll be rolling in the dough. Pun intended.”

“Yeah, but Bishop’s not completely convinced. I bet he thinks my baking is more comedy than culinary, but hey, he hasn’t fired me yet.”

“First off, your baking? Far from a joke. I’d say it’s improving.” Chantel’s expression flashed with indignation. “And secondly, that handsome baker just needs a nudge to see life goes beyond crafting the flawless croissant.”

I appreciated Chantel’s unwavering support, yet a whirlwind of emotions churned within me. Working at the bakery was more than just a job; each day presented a new opportunity to prove myself—not just to Bishop, but to my own skeptical heart. The thought of becoming the ‘queen of pet treats’ alongside the ‘king of pastries’ brought a flicker of excitement, a glimpse into a future I wanted very much. But for now, I would persevere, one batch of cookies at a time.

“Despite everything, I’m grateful for the job and it’s helping me get caught up on my bills.” I gave her a big smile. “Thanks, Chantel, for listening. You’re the best.”

“Of course I am.” Smiling, she linked her arm through mine again, and we continued our stroll. “Karaoke tonight?”

“Yes, please!”

With the capricious spirit of a Jane Austen heroine, I was ready to sprinkle a little enchantment over the gourmet pet treat scene, regardless of the inscrutable Bishop Caine.

Chapter Fifteen

Near closing time, the bakery still had a few customers. Jordan worked the register with a fast-paced energy, taking orders and packing up baked goodies.

As the clock struck five, I gazed out of the windows to see the horizon melting into dusky shades of twilight. The once radiant sun now dipped low, casting elongated shadows that stretched lazily across the streets.

I lingered after my shift ended, standing in the archway between the front counter and the kitchen. Bishop was like a baking maestro, his large hands moving with precision as he crafted an intricate design on a chocolate cake. He had been working tirelessly for hours on orders, the creases around his eyes hinting at exhaustion.

“Can you believe this crowd?” Jordan handed a customer their change. “Bishop’s gonna need to hire another part-timer.”

I smiled. “Must be all those rave reviews we’ve been getting since the rebranding.”

Jordan turned to the last customer. “We’re closing in five minutes, so please make your selection.”

I walked into the kitchen and stopped beside my boss. Bishop was focused on finishing the anniversary cake order in front of him, his lips pressed together as he piped each rose.

“Why don’t you take a break?” I snapped lids onto containers and placed them on the shelves. “Jordan said there’s a rooftop area upstairs that has a nice view.”

---