Page 2 of Baking Spirits Bright

Pressing her hand on the prep table and lifting her shoulder, she stares at me. "You do, which is why I'm asking you not to make me go up front anymore and sign autographs."

I wish I could meet her halfway, but it brings so many people into the shop. They come for her; they stay for the amazing desserts. "You'd be asking me to stop doing what I know is a definite traffic boosting practice."

The tension between us is thick. "You see me as someone who just brings traffic into the shop? Lincoln, it's like you don't even think of me as a person."

"I do," I insist. "But I have to think of everyone around here who gets a paycheck because of what we do here. This isn't just about you, it's about everyone."

Her hand goes on her hip. "That's fucked up."

"What's fucked up is you can't see how important we are as a team around here, Lyla."

"It's hard to see the team aspect when I'm being singled out."

Those eyes of hers are throwing sparks at me. "You're not..."

"But I am." She crosses her arms over her chest. "What would you do if I quit?"

Grinding my back teeth together, I grimace. "I'd make it work. My question is, what would you do? This is a small town. There's no other place that will hire you doing what you're doing."

"Maybe I'll open my own store."

We both know that's never going to work. This town isn't big enough for two bakeries. There's no way it can support them both. "Lyla, you're going to fail."

"Oh yeah? Bet." She turns on her heel and marches back to where we hung up our jackets and stowed our gear. Red hair is flying as she angrily shoves her arms into the material and then yanks it over her body. It takes longer than it should for her to zip and button it.

"Lyla, think about this," I encourage her.

"I don't need to. You're never going to appreciate me for what I bring to the table."

"If you need a job later, you can come to me."

"Fuck off, Lincoln..."

With those words, she slams the door and heads out to the parking lot. It sucks watching her leave, but I know I've done what's best for the business.

CHAPTER ONE

Lyla

One Year Later

"I'm going to have to ask him for a job," I mumble, looking again at my budget. There's absolutely no way I can make this work. I had hoped I could until at least Christmas, but here I am; two weeks from it, and I can't afford my supplies order.

"No, you aren't." My best friend, Kayla, says as she puts a hand on my shoulder. "You always make it work."

But this time I won't. It's staring me blatantly in the face. My account is very close to zero, and there are no savings to rely on this time around. I've used it all up. My credit cards are maxed, and I'm behind on those payments. This isn't going to be the most wonderful time of the year. Not this time. "It's not going to work, Kayla. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to close today. My bank account says I can't afford anything else to get us through. I've been holding on by the tips of my fingers, and I just can't anymore. I'm not even sure I'll be able to pay you for all the hours you've worked this week," I admit, my throat tightening with unshed tears.

"You know I do this because I love it, not because you're paying me enough to live on," she jokes. Her husband is abusinessman, and she only works to get out of the house. That's not to say she isn't talented. She is, but this was never a definite for her. Not like it is for me.

"I appreciate that." I let some of the tears fall.

My dreams are going right down my cheeks too. When I started Holly Jolly Bakery, it was with all the stars in my eyes and dreams in my heart. I was ready to tell Lincoln Morrison to kiss my ass, and I would never work for him again - not after the way he used my last name as a marketing tactic. It worked, too. At least through Valentine's Day.

After that, the bottom dropped out of the sales, and I could never recover. I've been hanging on by a thread since, and I can't do it anymore. Every night, I stay up late at night trying to think of ways to get people to come in. I got myself an online presence and tried that for a while. I worked with other vendors to do small business Saturday's in the downtown area, but absolutely nothing has moved the needle on our sales.

Kayla wraps her arm around me. "Let it go if you need to, Lyla. This has been your dream. I'm so sorry that we couldn't make it work."

"It's not your fault," I sob, letting the emotions flow through me. "My dreams were bigger than I was prepared for."

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