Page 9 of Never Let You Go

I hand Sophie her baked goods and the first unsliced bread I could get my hands on and push her toward the exit. “You need a life, Soph’.”

She stops at the door. “Did you read my new fairy tale?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “Did it resonate with you?”

“Be right back,” I tell Alexandra as I walk Sophie to the sidewalk. If I don’t, she might stay for dinner. “I’ll have some cinnamon rolls for your knitting group tomorrow. How’s that?”

“It’s crochet and thank you. You’re the best.” Looking above my shoulder at the bakery, she adds, “Who’s the beauty?”

I sigh and cross my arms. There’s no point telling her it’s none of her business. It’d be rude. And it’d be wrong. Everything that happens in Emerald Creek is Sophie’s business. “She’s a new employee. An apprentice.”

“At her age? Is that even legal?”

“Fine. An intern. Duly paid. How’s that?”

Sophie is also the self-appointed keeper of rules. “Much better. Words carry more weight than people realize.”

“You’re right.”

“Where is she staying?”

Seriously? I chuckle at her nosiness. She’s also one of the sweetest people I know, and she always means well. “Here. This internship is modeled after a traditional apprenticeship.”

“In the attic?” she cries.

“That’s where all the apprentices stay, Sophie. I can’t make an exception just because she’s…”

Sophie’s eyes narrow. Is she actually waiting to see me put my foot in my mouth and say something flattering about Alexandra?

“… a woman. That would be discrimination. Right?”

She huffs. “I s’pose so.”

“And it’s not an attic. It’s a quaint bedroom under the eaves.”

“Well look at you. If this bakery thing doesn’t pan out, you could always write descriptions for realtors,” she says. “Seriously, Christopher, is that place even clean? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, you know.”

“What are we even talking about?” Pretending to ignore her gist seems to do the trick. She starts walking away.

But then she turns around.

“You'll need to give that child a mother eventually,” she says.

Oh no she didn’t. My blood boils, and my words bite. “Skye has been doing just fine with her father, wouldn’t you say?” I leave it at that. She should know better than to bring that up.

“Not all women are bad mothers. Just saying.”

I guess she’s into extra layers tonight. “’Night, Sophie.”

“That came out wrong,” she says apologetically. “I worry about you too. We all do.”

I know they do. That’s what I love about this small town. They’ve all been looking out for me since I took refuge here to build my life on my terms. “There’s nothing to worry about.” And that’s the truth. Skye and I are doing just fine.

Back in the bakery, I lock the door and roll down the blinds for extra protection against the busybodies of Emerald Creek. Alexandra lifts her gaze from her phone, pockets it and gives me a shy smile. I hope she didn’t hear what Sophie said out there.

I grab her duffel bag before she has a chance to and start up the staircase leading to the bedrooms. “Let’s get you settled,” I say. I lead the way up to the first floor, where mine and Skye’s bedrooms are, then continue onto the second, narrower flight of stairs. The apprentice bedroom is exactly above mine, with only one layer of disjointed hardwood floor between the two rooms.

It’s not as bad as Sophie makes it out to be. The bedroom is on the larger side and has an en-suite bathroom. It has everything you need, but nothing you don’t. Nothing pretty either.

“Sorry about the room,” I say as we reach the eaves.

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