Page 2 of Between Love and Loathing
Still, the elderly woman wasn’t deterred. She smiled at me like she was my fairy godmother. Then, she laid her hand on mine. “And you’ll own the bakery, Clara, because the one you have here will now be under your mother’s management.”
This was the biggest blow, the one that made it feel like my heart almost stopped. “That can’t be right.”
“Oh, honey, I know it seems harsh.” Mrs. Johnson shook her head of perfectly coiffed hair. “But Carl wanted this new bakery to be all yours.”
The bad day I’d thought I’d had at the doctor’s office morphed into catastrophic in that moment as I shook with something very close to desperation. Had Carl understood that the bakery here was everything to me? That I not only lost him but now the bakery too?
The emptiness of losing a parent stabs at you every day. It never goes away, never really heals. I didn’t know if he wanted me to cry or be strong here, if he thought I had the strength to do what he was asking.
“Right. My very own. I get it,” I grumbled, trying to picture what would even work best in another resort. I’d built the bakery here on the East Coast, and within this specific hotel, it did well. Yet it had been completed under my stepfather’s supervision, and the money went into a very large, very communal pot for the family.
“I’ll have to discuss this with my mother and my sis—”
“Your mother will want nothing to do with this.” Mrs. Johnson rolled her eyes and then it was like she was handing me glass slippers that would change my life as she continued, “Owning the bakery at the new resort will provide you with something that’s completely yours, without being tied to your mother and sister.”
I didn’t snatch the slippers yet, although I was tempted. Instead, I glanced at the man who hated me more in this moment than he ever had before. We’d never gotten along. He was too broody and quiet and was constantly working. There was alwaysanotherresponsibility that needed his attention so much so that he never stopped to enjoy a little treat. Not even when I offered him my desserts for free. “What if I decide this bakery isn’t for me?”
“It’s not. We don’t need it. We’ve planned for five restaurants and a whole pathway of shops weaving along the picturesque coastline. They are all within a block of the resort. Coffee, desserts, bakery, restaurants. Even ice cream. Housing another bakery within the resort doesn’t make sense.” He lifted a dark brow as he made clear that he didn’t need nor want me anywhere near his precious resort.
“Even so,” Mrs. Johnson said to Dominic, “it’s what Carl stipulated.” Turning her eyes to me, she said, “Otherwise, well, your mother still owns shares of the spa. You and your sister can always count on being taken care of by her.”
Yes, my mother. Melinda Milton.
She hadn’t explored doing something for her own success my whole life. She swam in different social circles and navigated the waters like a shark looking for blood. She’d found Carl probably when he was vulnerable and struck fast, sinking her teeth into an aging man who would help quench her hunger for elite status.
My stepfather delivered on most fronts for her and maybe he’d known somewhere deep down that this is what I needed. And maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to change the trajectory of my life.
“I’d like to make it work on the West Coast, too, then.” I said it softly, nodding my head.
Mrs. Johnson smiled at me with a twinkle in her blue eyes as Dominic cleared his throat. When I glanced at him, I saw the tendons in his neck straining, saw how his temple moved as his jaw ticked up and down too. “You know, I’m not going to help you, and you’ll have to follow all the design specs. You think you can handle that?”
My heart pounded as I replied, “Well, it’s obvious you don’t think I can.”
“Of course you can’t. You were spoon-fed your first business venture and are now being handed an even bigger opportunity.” He pinched the bridge of his perfect nose. “This isn’t some easy little journey, Clara. It takes work.”
Despite how rude he was, I could admit he wasn’t wrong. I took a deep breath and tried not to let him get the best of me.
“Mr. Hardy, this is her decision. The will does give her this space and states you both must approve the design. However, at the reopening, it will be hers.”
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” I stuttered out.
Designing a placewithhim? The man could barely look at me, let alone work with me.
“You two must co-produce the plans for the bakery. And approval must be …” She glanced down at the paperwork in front of her, blew out a breath, and chuckled. “‘Harmonious.’ Carl must not have realized how hard that one was going to be.”
“Since it will be mine, it’s probably best for me to get what I want …” My voice trailed off as I glanced at Dominic, who was practically snarling at me.
His gaze flew to my hair and then traveled slowly over my body. This maxi dress usually made me feel comfortable, but it felt almost too revealing with him sizing me up the way he was. “It will be yours, Clara, but you can bet your ass it’ll be my design.”
Why did that statement cause shivers to travel down my spine?
* * *
“I’ll drive you home.We can discuss the blueprints.” I heard his voice behind me as I exited the building, punching in for another ride.
“Oh, I’m just going to grab a cab.”
“You don’t want to even discuss what the hell we have to do?” he asked, and anger laced through his tone enough that I gave in.
