Page 32 of The Sweetest Ingredient

Bishop stared at the screen, then slowly nodded. “I must admit, Kenzi, I’m awestruck and touched. This could preserve my family’s legacy and honor my grandparents.”

I grinned, thrilled to have earned his praise. “I’m only getting started.”

He took a step closer to the table, inspecting the details of the logo. “I’ve should’ve updated sooner.”

“Yeah, you might’ve been baking with pride, and probably prejudice against change.” I patted his arm. “But you’re taking the leap now and these renovations are gonna totally transform the bakery and bring in more business.”

With Bishop on board, an intense sense of ambition and drive overcame me.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, the Doughy Desires team worked together with eagerness and determination, powered by the excitement of rebranding the bakery.

“Okay, folks.” I clapped my hands, gathering everyone’s attention one sunny afternoon. “Time to bring this place back to life!”

A few of our regular customers and Jordan tackled the exterior painting, their laughter ringing through the air as they playfully flicked paint at each other between brush strokes. The once-dull façade took on a perky outlook as they covered it in mellow shades of cream and gold.

“Kenzi, look at these chairs I found at an estate sale for the outdoor seating.” Lucia gestured at a collection of wrought-iron tables and chairs that her husband was unloading from his truck. “Aren’t they perfect?”

I admired their elegant curves and intricate detailing. “They’re amazing.”

Next, Bishop and I collaborated on selecting a music playlist that would create a pleasant ambiance for customers—a blend of timeless classics that had us humming along.

Once the exterior painting and outdoor seating was finished, I found Lucia and Jordan experimenting with various brewing techniques and flavors behind the counter.

“Any suggestions for designer tea options?” I asked.

“We definitely need more unique blends.” Jordan’s face brightened. “And a lavender latte for our coffee drinkers.”

“Excellent.” I grinned, making a mental note to try it.

Turning around, I surveyed the interior that now had crisp white tablecloths, freshly painted walls, new wooden chairs, and updated cabinetry. It looked like a whole new bakery.

As we labored over each detail, I noticed a difference in Bishop. The man who had once been so resistant to change now seemed invigorated by it, frowning less often and collaborating with the rest of us with genuine enthusiasm.

Bishop walked out of the kitchen and stood next to me. “Kenzi, you were right. My bakery needed to be modernized. I really do like the updates.”

We walked outside and stood on the sidewalk to admire the new striped awning and wooden plaque above the front window.

I tilted my head, scrutinizing the bakery. “With my design talents and your mad baking skills, we could run this town.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

I laughed. “Why not dream big?”

“You’re right. We would be unstoppable.”

“Ah, so I bring out the best in you?”

He folded his arms. “Without a doubt.”

I smirked, nudging his shoulder. “I’m flattered.”

“You did a good job, Kenzi. I might owe you a croissant,” he teased.

I tapped my chin. “Hmm, only one croissant? I think my adorableness and design skills are worth at least a whole bread basket.”

He looked at me and didn’t respond at first. Then Bishop reached out, his fingers tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, and making my heart skip a beat.

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