Page 28 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Her pulse went a little haywire at the memory. She rubbed her hand across her collarbone as she dragged her gaze to the front where the woman she assumed was Blythe finished up with a customer. She looked to be in her early thirties and had the same light-colored eyes and dirty-blond hair as Jamie, the latter pulled back in a tight ponytail.

How far did their similarities go? Did Blythe have his sense of humor? What did she think about his baseball career cut short and pivot into arboriculture (yeah, she’d looked it up while bored out of her mind in the hospital bed)?

Had their night last year meant enough to him that he’d mentioned it to his sister?

Then Carly said, “How cute is this place?” and Elliott remembered she was here for more than reminiscence and what-ifs.

She had a job to do.

The bakery’s color theme was clear and unique—lime green and hot pink—consistent with the signage outside. The floor was a light-hued natural wood and the walls a soft white—closer to an ivory or eggshell. White subway tiles lined the customer-facing side of the counter and display case, but that’s where the neutral palette came to an end. The bright-colored pastries and desserts popped from behind the clear glass, offering a mouthwatering display of macarons, cupcakes, bars, and what Elliott could only assume were mini tarts. A large pink menu board hung behind the counter, and lime-green chairs framed two-top tables near the entrance.

“It’s adorable,” Elliott replied, and meant it. She found a menu on a nearby bistro table and looked through it, ideas already forming.

As soon as the customer left, their arms full of boxes, Carly ushered Elliott to the counter.

“Hey, Blythe!”

Blythe grinned. “Is this the girl who’s gonna save me?”

“Yep.” Carly turned to Elliott. “I already filled Blythe in on everything I know about you.”

“Which isn’t much,” Elliott said with a laugh she hoped came out lighthearted but sounded more nervous-adjacent.

Carly waved a hand. “It’s enough. Obviously, this is Jamie’s older sister, Blythe. Blythe, this is Elliott.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.” Blythe checked her watch. “I’ve got about five minutes until closing, but I doubt anyone else will come in. Want to sit? I’ll be right there.”

“Sure.”

Carly asked Blythe about some upcoming party, and Elliott took a seat at one of the tables. She pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it to the bakery website, comparing it with the to-go menu on the table, trying to keep her mind from drifting to thoughts of Jamie.

How close was he to Blythe? Did they grow up racing their bikes down their childhood street? Did he pull immature pranks on her, like leaving a toad in her bathroom, or did they team up and work in cahoots to mess with the rest of their family?

Blythe dropped across from her a few moments later, and Carly stopped at the edge of the table.

“Welp,” Carly said. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Elliott frowned. “You’re not staying?” Carly lived on the west side of town, which meant this was a long-ass drive for a three-minute introduction.

“Nah, I’d just get in the way.” Carly cleared her throat and lingered, rocking back on her heels. Blythe seemed to be hiding a grin but said nothing. Finally, Carly glanced at the pastry case. “So, uh ... got anything that’s just gonna go to waste in there?”

Blythe laughed. “There it is.”

Elliott couldn’t help but smile. That was something Yuka would do.

“Pick whatever you want; just make sure you post a picture and tag the shop.”

“I know the drill.”

A few minutes later, Carly left, and Blythe locked the door from the inside and flipped off theOpensign. She sat down with a sigh, pulling the white apron over her head.

God, she looked so much like her brother.

“Thanks for agreeing to talk to me,” Elliott started. Her mentor through internship was big on exuding confidence during client conversations and had forced Elliott to practice often. It would take a while to build an experienced portfolio to impress clients, so for now she’d have to skate by on passion and sincerity. “I’m new at this, but I’ve got the creativity and skills to do whatever you want. I thought we could just talk through some general ideas about what you’re looking for, and I can email you some concepts in a few days. You can decide then if you want to move forward with hiring me. No pressure.”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

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