Page 2 of Hunter

“Circle around there again when you’re on your way back,” I suggested.

“Great idea,” my mom agreed. “But for now, don’t worry about how delicious that slice of mixed berry pie will be. Instead, focus on making it through your big day. I can’t believe you barely had the chance to start your job search and already found one where you start so quickly.”

Even though they couldn't see me, I shrugged. “Like I explained yesterday, I couldn’t resist stopping into the bakery when I saw their post about the soft opening and somehow walked away with a job to go along with my delicious butter pecan cookie.”

“Because you're a sweetheart who loves baking,” Mom said.

“We're proud of you, honey,” my dad added. “And happy you found something close to home.”

I wasn’t surprised that was the most important part for him. My parents had me later in life, and I was an only child, so they were more than a little overprotective. “Me too.”

“Now go knock ’em dead, sweetheart.”

My parents’ pep talk gave me the courage to climb out of my car and head into the bakery, an hour ahead of its seven o’clock opening. The warm smell of vanilla and sugar wrapped around me instantly. Yeasty bread, sweet icing, and a hint of cinnamon hung in the air, making my stomach rumble. A soft clatter came from the walk-in fridge.

“Good morning, Marcy,” I called.

My new boss stepped into my line of vision, carrying a stack of egg cartons. “Morning, Sadie! Ready to get to work?”

“I sure am.” I beamed a big smile at her. “Where do you want me?”

“After you put your stuff in the office for safekeeping, please get to work on loading the muffins into the display case. Oh and if you see a young guy lingering about, just ignore him. Austin is fixing the leaky air-conditioning.” She laughed and shrugged. “I guess it was too much to ask that the opening go perfectly. But he’ll have it done in a jiffy, so just work around him.”

“Will do.”

After I had added the trays of cookies, brownies, and cupcakes to the shelves next to the muffins, I joined her in the kitchen. “Need any help in here?”

She paused the commercial mixer and asked, “How are you at frosting cakes?”

“Pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.”

I wasn’t normally one to brag, but frosting was one of my favorite things, so I had spent many hours perfecting my skills. Something I proved over the next fifteen minutes. But I didn’t have time to properly appreciate the pretty pink cake that I decorated because I finished only a few minutes before the doors opened.

Just then, a young blond guy popped into the kitchen. “All done, Marcy. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Austin. Tell your dad to send me the bill.”

His curious gaze landed on me, and Marcy quickly introduced us. He was the son of the local hardware store owner and the town’s resident Mr. Fix-it.

He smiled warmly at me and shook my hand. I shifted edgily when he lingered just a little longer than usual.

“Well, we need to get ready to open,” Marcy informed him before ushering him to the back door. She and I headed to the front of the bakery as she explained, “We're keeping things simple this first week. I'll work the register and espresso machine. You stock, serve, and help out wherever. Once the dust settles, I’ll have you help with the baking, too.”

I nodded and tried to sound more confident than I felt when I replied, “Got it.”

“Don't worry, you'll pick it up fast,” she assured me with a smile.

Appreciating her confidence in me, I grinned back at her. “Good. Because if you need someone to bake a hundred cupcakes in an afternoon, I'm your girl. But if you want fancy barista moves, I will definitely need some lessons.”

Marcy laughed. “We'll get there.”

She ran me through the basics quickly—how to use the POS system, where the extra cups and napkins were, and how she wanted the pastries boxed up. It was a lot, but it felt good. Like being here was the perfect fit for me. Except then she said something that made me worry a little.

“And be extra nice to any customer you see wearing an Iron Rogues MC vest.”

My brows drew together. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Her eyes widened. “They’re the motorcycle club that basically owns all of Old Bridge, including this building. I figured with you growing up a few towns over, you’d at least have heard of them before.”

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