Page 52 of Flirting with the Stranger

“And the bakery?” And I point the spotlight on the giant elephant in the room, or van, once again.

“I don’t know. Baking’s not really my thing.” Van shrugs a shoulder.

Our once blissful bubble we were in bursts into a million pieces. Van still doesn’t know what he wants to do. It’s like he’s stringing me along until he figures it out. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. “We better get back to the bakery.”

I scurry to find my panties. As I stand hunched over I shove my legs through the holes and pull them up. When they’re in place, the dress fabric falls over my thighs and I glide my hands down the skirt of my dress to straighten it.

Van gets up and gets dressed himself. He shimmies his way through the opening and into the driver’s seat. I do the same and plop down into the passenger seat. Both of us buckle our seat belts. The twenty-minute drive back to The Sweet Spot is quiet. Nothing but my noisy thoughts running through my head.

When we arrive back, neither of us want to talk about the conversation we just had. I’m guessing because neither of us knows how to navigate this. I need him to keep the bakery, at least until I have enough money to buy it from him, but for him it’s a distraction keeping him from his real life. Van’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks the screen, types out a quick message, and shoves it back in his pocket.

“I’m going to get going. But we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Van presses a kiss to my cheek and before I can respond, he’s out the back door.

I glance around the bakery. Everything is already neat and tidy so, no need to clean. And I don’t want to go home and be alone with my thoughts so, I pull out my earbuds, open my phone, and find my baking playlist. The best distraction from myself…baking. Plus, I’ll get an early start for tomorrow. I hit play and “American Pie” by Don McLean blasts through the earbuds. Van mentioned his mom’s cinnamon rolls earlier. I bet I have everything to make those. I pull out bowls, rifle through the baker's rack to find all the dry ingredients, and then dig in the fridge for the rest.

With everything laid out on the table, I rest my hands on my hips, and a smile tugs at my lips because this is a recipe that I’ve had memorized since I started here. I get to work on making batch after batch of cinnamon roll dough.

Two hours and four batches of dough later, my head is a little more clear. There is something soothing and relaxing about baking. You stop worrying about everything else because your concentration must be on the baked goods, otherwise you’ll miss a step or forget an ingredient. Both of those can be very costly to the final product. But now that I’m done, and everything is cleaned up, all my thoughts flit back to Van. Instead of wondering if he’s selling the bakery, I ponder all the possible scenarios for his sudden departure earlier. None of them are looking good.

TWENTY-TWO

I WISH I WAS THERE

Van

While I was at the bakery yesterday with Hollyn, I got an email from a construction company that wants to set up an interview. But the kicker is, it’s back home in the Cities, not in Harbor Highlands. Now, I need to tell her I’ll be gone for a few days for a job interview, which I’m sure won’t ease her fears of me selling the bakery. I don’t know what else to do.

I pace the kitchen of the bakery, sweat collecting in the palms of my hands. Scenario after scenario of her possible reaction flash through my mind. I would like to think she’d be happy for me, but I might be too optimistic.

The back door opening and closing draws my attention. When I turn around, Hollyn’s gorgeous smile lights up the room. Like two opposite sides of a magnet, I’m instantly pulled toward her. In a few quick strides, I’m in front of her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and tugging her to my chest.

“Did I tell you how much I hate arguing with you?” I bury my nose into her hair, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent.

“I hate it too.” Her grip around me tightens.

“I’m hoping what I’m about to tell you doesn’t lead to another argument…” Her body goes stiff in my arms, as if she’s bracing for impact. “I got a phone call about a job interview—”

“That’s great!” She beams up at me.

“Well, it’s not here. It’s in the Cities, so I’ll be gone for a couple of days.”

“Oh.” Her face falls. I know she’s been hoping, at the very least, if I didn’t continue working at the bakery, I could at least find a job around here so I could be around as the owner.

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of days.” I press my finger under her chin and force her to meet my eyes. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s not that.” She pulls away from my grasp.

“You’re still worried about if I’m going to sell or not?”

She shrugs her shoulders like it’s the only question worth asking.

“Look, I need to figure out what I’m doing. Currently, I’m paying rent for my mom’s apartment, and I still have to pay rent at my apartment until I can find a sublet. Something's got to give and soon because I can’t keep paying both. There’s no reason to get upset when we don’t even know what’s going to happen yet. Alright?” All I can see is the disappointment swimming in her hazel eyes.

“Yeah. You’re right. But I can’t keep waiting like this. What am I supposed to do?”

“What amIsupposed to do?”

There’s another question that’s been eating away at me that I haven’t asked yet, mostly because I’m afraid of her answer. But now is the perfect time.

---