Page 52 of Always the Baker

“First day on the job,” I said, grabbing a nearby chair and wheeling it next to her. “I’m a quick learner.”

As Billie explained the project, a logo redesign for a local bakery, I found myself genuinely interested. It was so different from my world of music and stadiums, but there was something appealing about its simplicity. Music was always the plan for me, so I didn’t bother with going to college to learn anything else. She thought I was playing, but I was genuinely interested.

“Okay, hotshot,” Billie said, pushing the mouse toward me. “Show me what you’ve got.”

I cracked my knuckles dramatically, earning another eye roll and giggle from Billie. “Prepare to be amazed.”

Twenty minutes and several frustrated groans later, I had to admit defeat. My attempt at a cupcake logo looked more like melted icing with thunder strikes for sprinkles. I guess this was how she felt when I was teaching her about the smart fridge and TV back at the penthouse.

“I think I’ll stick to writing songs.” I laughed, leaning back in my chair.

Billie giggled. “Probably for the best. Though I have to say, watching you struggle was pretty entertaining.”

I feigned offense. “Hey, I’m used to being good at things. This is humbling.”

“Welcome to the real world,” Billie teased, but there was warmth in her voice.

As we worked, well, as Billie worked and I offered increasingly unhelpful suggestions, I found myself relaxing.

“I could get used to this.”

Billie looked up with surprise flickering across her face. “What, watching me work?”

I shook my head. “No, this simplicity. It’s refreshing. In my world, everything’s always so complicated, so high stakes. But here? It’s just life.”

Billie’s expression softened. “I always thought it was boring. That’s why I dreamed of the city, of making it big.”

“Grass is always greener, I guess. But there’s something beautiful about knowing your neighbors, about building something from the ground up in a place like this.”

Billie was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “Maybe we both needed a little perspective.”

I was just about to suggest grabbing a bite to eat when Billie’s mom, Gina, appeared in the doorway of the office. Her eyes locked on me, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Brax, could I have a word?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I glanced at Billie, who shrugged helplessly.

“Of course, Mrs. Hopkins.”

We stepped outside, and the warm afternoon sun did not penetrate the cool look in her eyes. She crossed her arms, and I resisted the urge to fidget like a teenager.

“Listen here, Mr. Rock Star,” she began, her voice low. I had to hold in my laugh. Older people always called me a rock star just because I played guitar. To me, I was a mix of gangsta poetry and neo soul when I sang. It was hard to describe what I did because it hadn’t been done before, which was why I’d been so successful over the years.

Maybe the closest descriptor would be Tupac if he sang love songs. That was also why I hated having to do shorter songs that could potentially trend on TikTok. When I realized I wasn’t really giving Gina the attention she deserved, I cleared my throat as she continued on with, “…I’ve seen your type before. You sweep into town, turn everything upside down, and then you’re gone with the wind. Billie’s got a good heart, and I won’t stand by and watch you break it.”

I swallowed hard, feeling my palms start to sweat. “Mrs. Hopkins, I…”

She cut me off. “I’m not finished. Billie’s got dreams, but she’s also got responsibilities here. If you’re just looking for a good time, you can turn right around and head back to your fancy tour bus.”

I took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “Mrs. Hopkins, I get it. I do. But I need you to know something. I genuinely careabout Billie. I love her. This isn’t some fling or publicity stunt. She’s, well, she’s different.”

Mrs. Hopkins raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“She sees me. Not the image, not the rock star as you called me, just me. And I see her too. Her talent, her dreams, her kindness. I’m not here to sweep her away or change her. I’m here because we increase each other’s happiness.”

For a moment, Mrs. Hopkins just stared at me. Then, slowly, her expression softened.

“I suppose that’s a start.”

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