Page 9 of Icing on the Cake

“The meeting will come to order,” the chairperson’s directive causes a hush to settle over the room. “The first item of business is the proposed changes to the licensing laws for food-based business conducted in non-commercially regulated facilities. An itemized list of the proposed changes is in the packet. I assume everyone picked one up with the agenda.”

I open the packet and flip through the pages until I find the correct document as the chairperson continues with board introductions. My heart sinks as I read through the proposals that villainize businesses like mine on issues of cleanliness, protocols, and having the community’s health and well-being as a priority.

Of all the nerve.

“While well-intentioned, the current licensing laws do not protect the community to its fullest ability. By eliminating home-based bakeries from our local economy, we can ensure that all businesses adhere to the same rigorous standards, promoting fairness and consistency across the board.”

A deep voice booms into the microphone, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. I recognize the familiar voice but am shocked and appalled by the words. I glance up from the papers, and my hands begin to tremble. Beau stands at the front of the room, his expression impassive as he argues in favor of the new regulations.

I struggle to reconcile the charming man from a few evenings ago with the man who speaks so poorly of legitimate, law-abiding entrepreneurs. How could Beau be behind an effort to drive me out of business?

“Furthermore, by centralizing food-based operations in licensed commercial kitchens, we can better regulate food production and protect consumers from potential health risks.” Beau scans the crowd as he wraps up his brief speech. His eyes land on mine, and he hesitates for a moment. His brow furrows as he looks back at the panel on stage before continuing. “This isn't about stifling creativity or entrepreneurial spirit – it's about prioritizing the safety and well-being of our community. Thank you.”

He bounds from the stage and takes a seat in the front row. My chest tightens with emotion. I stare at the back of his head, oblivious to anything but the ache in my heart and the knowledge that everything I’ve worked toward could be ripped away from me by the one person I thought might be the one.

If fate brought us together, it could also tear us apart. We never stood a chance. We were doomed from the start.

***

Beau

My heart pounds in my chest as I prepare to address the attendees. The room hums with anticipation, the air thick with chatter. I tune out the chatter to calm my nerves as the chairperson introduces me.

I’m confident in my ability to address the issue and protect the community from potential harm. But as much as I believe in the benefits of changing the law, it doesn’t come without consequences. Some will sacrifice more than others.

My words are measured and deliberate, my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within me. I argue for the proposed changes with unwavering conviction, advocating for stricter regulations in the interest of quality assurance.

As I wrap up the speech, I glance around the room at my fellow business owners. I see anger and pain in some people’s eyes, as well as heads nodding in agreement with my concerns. But when my eyes land on Eisley, the look of disappointment on her face causes me to pause.

Realization hits me like a sudden punch to the gut. There’s a reason I didn’t recognize her from one of the local restaurants. She’s independent, likely a small entrepreneur running the kind of business the law, if passed, would hurt.

Everything comes crashing down around me as the implications of what I’m advocating for sinks in. The thought of hurting her and the impact this could have on her livelihood weighs heavily on my heart and my conscience. Yet, despite the turmoil swirling in my gut, I can’t shake the notion that this is the right thing to do. I can’t ignore the potential risks posed by unregulated businesses. Can I?

I quickly wrap things up and take my seat, unable to shake the feeling that I’m betraying Eisley.

If we’d only had that cup of coffee or I’d called her sooner to set up an actual date, we could have talked and gotten to know each other beyond the obvious chemistry that drew us together. Neither of us would’ve been blindsided tonight. But damn it. If the chauffeur hadn’t been drunk. If Kent hadn’t been an ass. If I’d paid more attention to the growing attraction between Eisley and me instead of what everyone else needed. Someone else could have driven Tom and Grace.

I should’ve chosen Eisley over everything else.

I glance over my shoulder, tuning out everyone and everything except Eisley. My pulse thunders in my ears as she stares back in disappointment. It kills me to know I’ve hurt her. It’s my responsibility to make things right with her or possibly miss out on the best thing that’s ever walked into my life.

I scroll through my contacts to her number and text, asking her to wait for me after the meeting. Minutes go by without a response. I glance over my shoulder again, but Eisley’s gone.

I have to find a way to reconcile my sense of duty and my feelings for Eisley, or I’m destined to lose the woman I’ve already fallen head over heels in love with.

CHAPTER 7

***

Eisley

Frustration and anger simmer beneath the surface, though I do my best to remain composed. My stomach tightens into a knot, and I’m too wound up to helplessly watch as one person after another takes the stage. I can’t listen to another word in favor of the proposed changes. Nor can I ignore the fact that Beau’s spearheading it.

“I’ve got to go.” I gather my purse and excuse myself, unable to hide my disappointment in the turn of events.

“Everything will work out,” Hope reassures me. “This will pass over before you know it.”

“We’ll see.” I scoot past her. But I don’t believe it for a minute.

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