CLARA
Ruin was coming.
Life wasn’t this good. It couldn’t be.
And the reopening was that very day. We’d planned our schedule, laid out how we’d be there very early in the morning because guests would be arriving. I’d baked the night before, had extra staff to help me, and couldn’t help but be excited.
Dominic brushed a hand over my cheek outside of Sugar and Spice Bakery and murmured, “Own it, Clara. She’s a stunning representation of you, and it will be a hit.”
I nodded once and then again to try to reassure myself. When I squinted at my bakery through the glass, though, I saw a glint of something that wasn’t there the night before.
I rushed to swipe my fob and push open the door.
Inside, on every table and lining the walkway up to the register, were gold roses and gold petals. “What is this?” I whispered.
“A little extra.” He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. And I just spun around in silence until he said softly, “Do you like it?”
His question was hesitant, like suddenly he cared what someone else thought of his addition to the design. Gone was his confidence, and in its place was vulnerability I never expected from him. “If I said I didn’t?”
“I’d expect that. But it’d hurt about as badly as you calling my resort a sterile hospital.” He chuckled but his gaze didn’t meet my eyes.
“You’re not kidding, are you?” I squinted at him trying to figure it out.
“For some reason, I’m not. I care about your opinion much more than others.”
“Because it’s an honest one?”
“Because it’s yours,” he corrected.
I took a breath and glanced around again, trying not to give in to the tears that were forming in my eyes. “No one’s ever helped me accomplish exactly what I wanted in the way I never knew I needed. It’s beautiful, Dominic Hardy.”
He stared at me, didn’t take his eyes off me as he said, “Yeah, it really is.”
It felt like he was saying it to me, and my heart beat faster as my face heated because of it.
I shook my head at him and my perfect red curls that I’d spent extra time on today waved back and forth too. “You shouldn’t be here making me feel better about my bakery. You have a million things to do. Aren’t you nervous?”
“For what?” He smirked. “I’m the artist. I tell them what they want, right?” He kissed me then and when he pulled away, murmured, “Remember, own it. I’ll see you at nine, cupcake. Don’t be late.”
With that, he was gone. He backed away down the lobby, in that three-piece suit looking like perfection under the massive chandelier that now had hints of silver and gold in it. Every fiber of my being still felt him there with me, in the roses, in the paint, in the blown glass he’d hung, in everything. Dominic had helped me achieve my dream, and I think I loved him for it.
Loved him. Not liked. Loved.
I stared out at that lobby, trying to catch the sparkle of the chandelier even though the sun wasn’t in the sky yet. Dominic hadn’t changed much with the lobby because it was his statement to the guests. Clean, luxury, elegance. The new gold accents just enhanced the sparkle of the chandelier. It drew everyone’s attention, much like Dominic intended for it to.
I took a few deep breaths and got to work. When it was time for me to open the doors, I let the crowd outside in the lobby be an indicator that I’d be a success, and then I tried not to cry for the next nine hours of pure chaos.
People ordered everything on the menu and then moaned and whispered sweet nothings to my cupcakes the way I’d always dreamed they would. Declan waltzed in with Evie and their baby, and the tears flowed freely. She’d brought flowers to match the place and cried happy tears as she shooed away her husband so we could have a moment together.
We only had a minute in the back while staff took orders, but she hugged me tight and told me she was proud of me, that I’d bled color all through the resort just like it needed. Dominic’s resort had splashes of color everywhere now, it was true. Just enough that people understood the concept and completely embraced it.
He’d overworked himself—and all of us—to make perfection and I had to try not to cry thinking about it. “He did really great work.”
“Oh no. Don’t cry, or I’ll cry again,” Evie warned.
“I know.” I took a deep breath. “It’s been a lot, but it’s all been worth it.”
“You did it.”