Page 19 of Finding Home
Bingo.
All three buildings are connected, with the bar called Seven Stools sitting on the corner. I fight back a laugh when I notice the neon sign over the sign is an actual bar stool.
Interesting name for a bar.
The bakery called Batter Up sits directly next to it. It’s much brighter and more welcoming on the outside with two small windows covered in pale pink awnings and floral arrangements hanging on the ledges. I’m already in love with the place because baking has my heart. An adorable little outside sitting area is tucked between the buildings next to the bakery and the coffee shop called Cozy Cup.
It’s genius marketing how it’s set up.
A coffee shop on one side and a bakery on the other with a sitting area to enjoy a little something from each place? Chef’s kiss.
Parking my car, I realize there are three job options in front of me. If these don’t work, I can always try my hand at Barlow Ranch. I bet if they have any association with Nan, she will help me out.
I laugh at myself.
Could you imagine me working at a ranch?
At least I know I can still be funny. First, the truck thought, and now this.
As I stare at the quaint bakery, a wave of excitement washes over me. This is the dream I’ve always envisioned. The thought of combining my passion for baking with others while also earning a living from it feels like everything I have been searching for.
Cracking the passenger window of the car, I kiss the top of Reginald's head. “Stay here, buddy,”
Once I open the car door, a woman with long, copper-red hair spots me instantly.
“Hi. You’re the new girl in town,” she says without question.
I laugh. “What gave it away? The sports car in a town full of dirt roads?”
She looks from me to the car, covers her mouth with her hand, and snorts. The tiny woman snorts. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it. Is that your dog?” She points to my passenger seat, and Reginald barks.
“Yes.”
“What kind of dog is it?”
“He’s a corgi.” I turn to face him. “The best dog in the world.”
“Were you planning to come into the bakery?”
“I was, actually.” I face her again in confusion. “I don’t know what’s pet-friendly here or not, so I was going to leave him here.”
“Nonsense.” She rounds the car, opening the passenger side door and taking his leash in her hands.
People in this town are so bold but friendly about it.
“The whole town is pet friendly. If you ever want to go to Seven Stools for lunch, don’t let the owner tell you otherwise.”
“Are they mean?” I ask curiously.
I’m internally wondering if I need to cross that job opportunity off the list completely.
“He’s not mean, but he’s one of the few men in the world who can’t stand dogs. Please, don’t ask me why because I don’t even know. And I’ve known him my whole life. It’s a huge red flag I wanted to warn you about.”
She crouches down, lifting Reginald in her arms as if he’s a smaller dog and peppers kisses on his head. His little tail wagging back and forth tells me he’s pleased with this attention.
“Are you sure it’s okay if he comes in?” I ask. “He’s kind of fluffy for a food establishment.”
“We have the outdoor sitting area, silly. Which was my idea, don’t let anyone else convince you it wasn’t.”
