Page 28 of All Mine

“Yeah.”

Lauren led me up the stairs and to the front room. Cream-colored wainscoting lined the bottom half of the walls, and the tops painted olive green. The layout was a mirror of the downstairs. Another fireplace sat directly above the one below. One couch faced the fireplace, and another sat behind it facing the bay windows. Several comfy looking chairs spaced along the wall. She'd filled the other room with wooden tables and chairs spaced out that reminded me of a library.

"This whole upstairs area is something that a traditional storefront bakery in a strip mall can't provide. Many people come in and use these rooms to get out and relax or get some work done. Last winter, there were several marriage proposals in front of the fireplace."

“My building’s aren’t strip malls.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not from around here. We don’t need some outsider with no skin in the game, coming in and telling us what our town should look like.”

“This is from the client, not me.” I held up my hands in surrender. “And I think he’s familiar with the town.”

“Who is it?”

"I'm not at liberty to discuss. But it's a moot point. A new building to house all the businesses provides a cohesive appearance and will modernize the town and give people another reason to visit. It'll make you more money. Even you have to admit that's a win-win."

“I realize this may be difficult for your brain to comprehend, but the rent will be out of our price range, and local businesses cannot afford it.”

“You have no idea what the rent would be.”

“I’ve researched what it is in other new buildings. And we have a prime location across from the lake. So just save your charismatic, sexy salesman bullshit.”

I grinned, “You think I’m sexy?”

“No,” she snapped, turning.

“Hey, what’s that door?” I asked, changing the subject for a moment to keep her on her toes.

“Third floor.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glancing back at me.

“What’s up there?”

“Storage.”

“So you think I’m sexy and charismatic?”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “We need to get to work.” She stomped down the steps.

“You do so,” I called, following.

“Just get to work,” she grumbled once we returned to the kitchen and washed up.

“I’m slowing you down,” I said, pouring the egg concoction into the sections of a giant muffin pan and slopping part of it on the side with every pour.

“True. But, you’re learning about hard work,” Lauren said, piping Choux pastry on the cookie sheet into long phallic shapes for eclairs. I’d learned in that morning’s crash course in baking the name of the dough used for eclairs and puff pastry.

“I work hard,” I snap. “You think it’s easy to put up commercial buildings?”

“I think it’s easier with the construction crew doing the manual labor.”

“If I didn’t create the building plans, then they wouldn’t have anything to work off of. I don’t know the first thing about commercial baking, and you know nothing about commercial building.”

“I’ll give you that one, Cam.” She placed the sheets of éclair dough into the oven. I couldn't imagine those flat lines puffing into the delicate pastry. “I don’t have a problem with you not knowing how to bake. My problem is the way you treat service workers.”

“That’s not true. I lost my temper once, and you act like it is a major character flaw. And stop calling me Cam.”

Lauren looked up from her industrial-sized mixing bowl. “What? No one’s ever called you Cam. before?”

“It’s not my name.”

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