Page 24 of Never Let You Go

“I see,” the woman on the line says. “In that case, we could send her back when you have a spot for her?”

Shit. I take a deep breath. “Look, this isn’t going to work. I just need to cancel this apprenticeship. And I’ll cover a week’s pay for the apprentice, plus her expenses, or whatever you think is fair.” I start to wonder what I’m going to tell Alexandra. You’re too fuckable to be living under my roof?

“That’s disappointing. All right, then. I’ll send over the rider to the grant.”

“Come again?”

“The grant. It’s to become a loan if the apprenticeship isn’t successful.”

Fuck. Right. “But she just got here last night. We didn’t get started yet. Can’t you send me another apprentice? Anyone else.”

“Has Ms. Pierce done something to displease you?”

God, no. “No. Not—Not exactly.”

“How do you mean? What happened?”

“Why can’t you send me someone else.”

“Because these are the instructions of the late Ms. Douglas. Ms. Pierce is to complete her apprenticeship with you, in Emerald Creek. These are the conditions stated in your grant.”

When I decided to open my bakery in this small Vermont town, I applied for grants and loans without much hope. Until I received a crazy offer from a New York-based nonprofit: a grant covering the purchase of the whole building and the baking equipment. I didn’t really believe it until the money was in the bank.

“I don’t remember my grant stating a specific apprentice.” What I remember clearly now was the thirty-minute online meeting I had with Rita Douglas, a stern woman who grilled me about my baking. I looked her up online after we hung up. She was the founder of Red Barn Baking, the industrial bakery chain that had hundreds, maybe thousands of storefronts, now synonymous with industrial bread in the US. They embody everything I loathe about baking.

That I got the grant from her foundation is still unbelievable to me.

“Correct. The grant doesn’t name the apprentice, but the instructions for the disbursement of the private funds Ms. Douglas donated toward your grant do. We can’t go around it. I’m sorry.”

What was I thinking? That they’d do the right thing and help a kid learn a new trade, make a living for him or herself? Of course not. They’d use it for their own purposes. Give some training to someone in marketing. Whatever the fuck they’re going to use that for.

I made a deal with the devil, and it’s pay time.

And the price is a hot, age appropriate, single woman sleeping in my house for six months. She’s clueless about baking, but at this point it’s a detail. I can work with that. She seems motivated.

What I can’t work with, is the lust she’s awakened in me.

And maybe worse, the fact that she’s likeable.

I shut my eyes. I can do the right thing for my business and keep my grant but put my sanity at risk. Because there is no way I am going to let anything happen between us. It would be unprofessional, unethical, and a disaster when Alexandra moves back home. So, the only certain thing is, my dick is sitting this one out.

Or I can send her back and not have to live with the temptation but lose my grant and owe a shitload of money. My business is doing well enough that I could pay it back, but I have bigger dreams for the bakery that require capital. And the real reason I want to grow the business is for Skye. To offer her the best life I can.

So, the dilemma boils down to this. My sanity or my daughter’s future.

Also, I’d like to believe I’m better than that. I can get her out of my system. I just need to look the other way.

“Do you want to think about it, Mr. Wright?” the voice on the phone says.

“No. No, I’ll make it work. Thank you.” I hang up and clench my jaw.

There are three reasons why nothing can or will happen between me and Alexandra: Skye, Women, and Time.

Reason number one, Skye. She’s my priority in life. She needs stability and protection. She was abandoned by her birth mother. I can’t expose her to a substitute but uncertain mother figure. That brings me to—

Reason number two, women. Fickle creatures with often-hidden agendas. I learned that lesson early on. I’m not going to get burned again.

Reason number three, time. Alexandra is not here to stay, but she will be here long enough that any intimate relationship would lead to disaster in one of two ways. Either heartbreak for me and Skye when Alexandra leaves or a total clusterfuck of annoyance at the bakery and at home if things don’t work out between us and go south before she leaves.

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