Page 11 of A Perfect Match
“Interior reno crew will be arriving any minute.Pretty sure the plan is to start with dismantling the hideous wood paneling as top priority.Floors should be done by the end of the week with the kitchen equipment arriving next week.”
“Yes, perfect.”Pat is swiping through schedules on his phone.“And we will be on hand to catch it all!We should be rolling soon.”
Kit, one of the camera guys, gives us a thumbs up.It’s go time.I check my watch—almost eight.The windows are still covered with brown paper, but I swear I hear the rumble of heavy equipment outside.I push open the door and spot three commercial vans rolling into the lot, all with the sameCookfield & Co.branding emblazoned on the side.
“Here we go.”I pop on a grin, striding outside.I can’t help but glance over at Cloud Nine Confections.Piper is in the doorway, turning her hanging board sign to OPEN just as I walk out, and our gazes meet.Electricity sizzles through me all the way to my toes.Her strawberry blonde tresses are pulled up into a bun at the top of her head.She’s got big dangly earrings, and those pouty lips are frowning.
Why won’t she talk about the night in Cleveland?
The question is burning inside of me.I hate that she’s playing some stupid game about it; then again, I didn’t exactly show up in a very sexy light here in Bayshore.
“You must be Kru.”A grinning man with a big belly and mischief in his eyes reaches for my hand.This is Mr.Cookfield himself, and as we exchange hellos and we introduce the construction team and the TV crew, I can feel Piper’s gaze boring through me from her shop.The tops of my shoulders prickle, and I fight everything inside me, urging me to turn around and verify that I’m right.
I didn’t come here to play games with a cute blonde with a bakery.
I came here to build my brand and my legacy.
I need to remember that, especially when the memories of Piper’s kisses get too loud in my head.I’ve already learned my lesson when it comes to the type of attraction that makes you dizzy, upends you.It didn’t just swallow me with my ex—it consumed me from the inside out.And I’m never going to let that happen again.
Focusing on the job isn’t just a priority for my future.It’s a priority for my reputation.Millions of people will be watching this show, watchingme.
And I don’t plan on making a fool of myself on national television.
CHAPTER FIVE
PIPER
Thump.Thump.Thump.
I draw in a deep breath through my nose, count to three, then slowly release.
It’s my meditative exercise that I’ve been implementing around the clock, because if I don’t?The construction noises coming from next door will drive me to murder.And believe me, I don’t need much else to make me want to wring somebody’s neck after my new landlord’s unappetizing news.
My store is unnaturally empty today, and I can only assume that it’s because everyone who’s stopped in today realized the sawing and pounding was killing the vibe.I plan on invoicing Kruesome for the lost revenue.And for the ocular migraine I’ll no doubt need to treat after two days of non-stop noise next door.On top of the new medications I’ll undoubtedly seek due to excessive distress in having mere days to find and move into a new place to live.In fact, I’ll just send him all the bills from my doctors to make my point.
Something that sounds like the highest-pitched sander in the world goes off.A shudder goes up my spine.I might perish in here.How many more days do I have to withstand this?I grind my jaw, focusing on the tray of marshmallows in front of me.I’m readying that day’s Lakeside S’mores Packs orders, and roughly fifty bags are already stuffed with the requisite graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars my clients have come to expect.Each bag is tied off with a pretty ribbon, branded with my store’s name followed by a dreamy affirmation on the tag.I go the extra mile with the small details people love, which is why my store has gone viral a time or two on social media.One list of the top ten bakeries in the Midwest said that my shop was better than therapy.
Which I tend to agree with.Except for yesterday and today, when the construction noises combined with my new landlord are making this place worse than a nightmare.
The door opens and one of my regulars, Tammy, comes in.She’s cringing, covering her ears immediately.
“I’m sorry,” I say in lieu of a greeting, but my words are drowned out by the high-pitched whining.My shoulders slump.This is ridiculous, and it’s barely noon.As soon as the noise breaks, Tammy orders, and I make quick work of ringing her up in the relative silence.My ears are ringing all through the break in construction noises.
“They’re sure making a racket over there, huh?”she says with a small laugh as I prepare her coffee.
“Racket is an understatement.But it should be ending soon,” I assure her with a big grin.Thankfully, she doesn’t know that I’m fibbing.I intend to find out just how long the racket will last as soon as my shop empties out.One day was permissible.Two days of this is going to put me in the leading role of an episode ofSnapped.
I pass Tammy her pumpkin latte so she can sip it while I get the rest of her order ready.She gifts her work clients a tray of packaged brownies each week, which I have sitting in the cooler in the back.But before I go back there, I grab the tray of extra marshmallows I’d been working on so that I can save the pre-cubed pieces for a different project.I’m humming to myself, enjoying the blessed quiet from next door.In the quiet, my thoughts are returning to me.I can actually hear myself think!Maybe now I can get back to thinking up fast alternate plans for somewhere to stay.I draw a deep sigh of relief, but just as I round the corner into the back room, CRRRRAAAACK.
The wall to my left begins to crumble, and I scream and jolt back.The tray in my hand goes flying.Drywall crumbles, and a massive hole is exposed in the back hallway.
A moment later, Kru’s face peeks through at chest height.
He grins up at me, waving.“Hey there.”
I’m sucking in big breaths of air, staring at him in disbelief.My heart is pounding and I might have peed my pants.
“What the fuck are you doing?”I demand.
