Page 15 of Sweet Rivals

At that, the floodgates opened all over again, and a sob shook through my body. I cried until we stood in front of the coffee shop. Strangers gave me sidelong glances and a wide berth. I wiped my face with the hem of my t-shirt and took a couple of deep breaths before walking inside. The cool air helped sober me up a little but not enough.

Chapter Eleven

Once I was sitting in one of the comfy, oversized armchairs in the corner of The Magic Cafe that had been our go-to hang-out for most of high school, I took another deep breath and a long sip of my caramel macchiato, letting the warmth move down my throat. Next to us, a couple played chess on an overside table-top board. Another older couple sat in silence, one reading the paper and the other reading a paperback with a half-dressed couple on the front. I envied them. I couldn’t wait to get to that stage in my life. It was always part of the long-term plan. Bust my ass now, so one day I could read trashy romance with my morning coffee before baking an assortment of pastries and ending my day with a walk on the beach, sand between my toes.

Tears formed in my eyes again.

“It’s okay,” Cat said, seeing my reaction.

“I don’t know how.”

“I don’t know either, but it has to be. There are no other options, right?” she asked.

“Oh, there are options,” I said. “I can bring that man down.”

Cat laughed. “Wow, had I known that all I had to do to get you to stand up for yourself was steal your bakery out from under you, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“That’s not nice,” I said.

“I’m joking. But I like this. Felony convictions aside, I wish you had been standing up for yourself and taking action all along.”

“Says the woman who went into psychology because she was too afraid to try photography,” I said.

“That is different.”

“I guess we are both just a mess.”

“Nothing wrong with being a little messy sometimes,” she said.

“But I’m not supposed to be a mess,” I said, before realizing just how whiney it sounded. “No. I have to do something.”

“Like what?”

“Like I said, I have to bring him down. A man like that could stand to be brought down a few notches.”

“I don’t disagree,” she said slowly in the same way that I spoke to her when talking her off the crazy ledge.

“Don’t. I am not some fragile, unhinged person. I’m not going to do anything illegal, but this cannot stand. First, I have to do some reconnaissance. I have to find out if this place is another one of his bullshit chains. I have to find out if the family is the financial backer on the project. Then I will know better how to bring it down. Cape Shore does not need anything that man is selling.”

“Okay, I’m in. We need a plan,” Cat said, leaning in conspiratorially. “What if you organize a protest at the next town hall meeting?”

“Too public. We need to be sneakier. I could write to the paper with a bunch of bad reviews?”

“I don’t think that would stop the locals from going. Then, if it actually is good, word of mouth will spread.”

“How dare you. It will not be good!”

“Of course not. I don’t know what I’m saying,” Cat said, slapping herself on the forehead. “You could get a job there and make sure it’s not good!”

“I thought you said laxative-laced baked goods would land me in jail,” I said.

“You don’t have to sabotage with laxative, you lunatic! You could just make bad recipes or give shit customer service or something,” she said.

“It’s definitely something to think about,” I said. “Although I don’t know if I would survive working for that man.”

“He didn’t seem terrible. Is he awful? Arrogant? Stupid? Angry?”

“Worse than all of that … he is charming,” I said.

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