Page 18 of Resisting the Grump

Grace whipped her head around to look at it again, completely forgetting her nerves, and my heart swelled to see her so happy with a guy who knew and loved her neuroses so well.

“You kids have fun,” I said, giving them both a hug. “Bring me back something nice.”

“Do you want anything in particular?” Grace asked, pausing before she slipped into the passenger seat of Noah’s car.

“I’m not precious,” I lied. “As long as it’s not something from the airport.”

“You sure?” Noah buckled his seatbelt and leaned towards the curbside window. “They do a lovely keychain in France… and don’t even get me started on the quality of their bottle openers and fridge magnets.”

“Don’t you dare bring me a magnet,” I said, pointing at him. “I don’t want anything functional that’s under five bucks. I’d rather open bottles with my teeth.”

He gasped and clutched his chest dramatically, knowing full well I made the teeth comment just to mess with him.

“Take lots of pictures!” I added as they pulled away. “And look out for pickpockets!”

“À bientôt!” Noah shouted, honking joyfully as they headed for the airport.

I waved until they were out of sight, wishing them a beautiful trip from the bottom of my heart. Yes, it would’ve been nice if I were the one being whisked off to Europe for macaron-flavored kisses and romantic strolls along the Seine, but if it couldn’t be me, I was glad it was them. They were so good together, and their love gave me hope that I might find my person someday.

I sighed and turned towards the bakery, admiring its star-studded front window with fresh eyes. It was only five days, but I was relishing the opportunity to step up. Privately, I felt that being second in command made it too easy for me to coast, and I was ready for a challenge.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I answered when I saw it was Grace.

“Don’t forget to make the chocolate croissants on Tuesday and the almond ones on Thursday,” she said. “I think I forgot to specify that in the directions.”

“You didn’t,” I said, unable to hide my amusement. So much for thinking she’d already kicked up her feet and started reading her guidebook. “I think the only thing you forgot to share was when I’m supposed to shit and shave.”

“Very funny.”

“If I have any questions, I promise I’ll call.”

“Right. Okay.”

“Have fun, byeee!” I sang, ending the call.

It rang again a second later.

“I know I gave you Noah’s number in case my phone dies or something, but as soon as we land, I’ll send you the number of the hotel just in case—”

I interrupted her with a dramatic groan. “Tell Noah it’s not too late to bring me instead.”

She was silent for a second. “I’m sure I forgot something else.”

“Like your chill pills?”

“I’ll make this up to you.”

“I work for you, Grace. Get a grip and enjoy yourself!” I hung up and headed inside, praying for Noah’s sake that she wasn’t as nervous about flying as she was about leaving the bakery in my care. So when the phone rang again, I almost threw it at the wall. “What now?!”

“Is this a bad time?”

The deep voice on the other end of the line reverberated in my bones. “Sorry,” I squeaked, my cheeks burning. “I thought you were someone else.” Which begs the question, is this who I think it is?

“It’s Oliver Harrington. From the Star Baker Festival.”

My toes curled in my boots. “Oh yeah, hi.” I wanted to sound casual, but I overdid it and nearly sounded disinterested. “Thanks again for matching our donation. That was really cool of you.”

“Yeah, well. I have a soft spot for needy kids and braided pigtails.”

---