Page 1 of Gingerbread Hearts

ONE

VIOLET

Kastle Harbor is just like any other coastal town in Maine during the winter months— windy and freezing. When I woke up this morning, it took every ounce of my energy to pull myself out from my warm cocoon of blankets. Sometimes, especially during cold mornings like this, I wish I had never gone down the baker career path. It’s only for a brief moment though.

Waking up at three in the morning is rough. When your alarm goes off and it’s still dark out, the bed always feels extra cozy. Then suddenly, in a blink of an eye, I’m late for work. Today was no exception, I was going to be late.

In my rush, I pull on a pair of black pants, questioning if they’re clean, but after a sniff test they’re approved. I pair them with a plain long-sleeve tee and a pair of clean wool socks. I hesitate but decide to add a short-sleeve tee on top for extra warmth. At least until the kitchen’s ovens are in full force and I need to start to remove layers. When it’s winter in Maine, it’s prime layering weather.

Fully clothed and warm, it’s time for the rest of my morning routine. I’ve perfected the rushed symphony of movements. I brush my teeth and attempt to tame my frizzy chestnut mane by pulling it into a high ponytail. Just the bare minimum of makeup. This means a tinted moisturizer, so my skin is hydrated against the windy, cold winter. It also gives me a tiny bit of coverage so I can skip foundation.

I know I’m just twenty-eight, but I think that some of my freckles might actually be sunspots. Nonetheless, I spend most of my day sweating in the kitchen and wiping my face on my sleeves. Because of this I gave up makeup a while ago. As I stifle a yawn, I glance at the clock. The dim glow of three twenty-five gives me the final push.

Ugh, no chance for coffee.

With a shake of the head, I decide to make coffee when I get to the bakery. Bethany won’t mind. Actually, she would probably be thrilled to arrive to fresh coffee brewing. I locate my boots and pull on my coat and gloves. Fully dressed and eager for caffeine, I leave for the short walk to Sprinkles Bakery & Café.

The icy air will wake me up.

It may be a ten-minute walk, but my mind is in full blown work mode the entire way. There are many special orders that we need to fill for the numerous upcoming holiday parties around town. As I walk I mentality go over some of the more specialty items that I want to try to perfect when I have time in-between orders. There’s a handful of recipes to experiment on before offering them as menu items.

Bethany McFarlan, the owner of Sprinkles Bakery & Café is not only my boss, but also my closest friend. Because of our close friendship she lets me experiment with baking as much as my energy and heart can handle. I assume it’s also because she knows my actual heart is permanently broken. Like a cookie that fell from the baking sheet and then got stomped on until it was nothing but a thousand little crumbs. Even with all of the frosting and a pair of master baker hands, it’ll never be pieced back together.

I’ve known Bethany since high school. After sleepovers and pizza nights we became nearly inseparable. When I went away for college, venturing off to the “big city” for culinary school, Bethany wished me nothing but the best. She stayed back here to attend the local community college for business classes knowing she’d takeover her family’s bakery. She inherited it unexpectedly, but still managed to put her plans of renovation into action. Her dreams of adding the café part to her family’s bakery is complete, and during the process she fell in love.

With her curly vibrant red hair, dusty blue eyes, and dazzling smile, it’s no wonder Liam fell for her instantly. She claims they’re soulmates.

I don’t believe in soulmates.

I had one great love.

The kind where you have butterflies when you kiss and you start to dream about the future together. When it ended badly, I vowed to avoid love altogether. If you don’t fall in love, there’s no risk of heartache. Bethany knows all of this, yet she believes enough for both of us.

Bethany’s always trying to set me up on a date. And I go on dates when she pushes, ever hopeful the next guy will be the right one. From gym bros who tend to avoid sweets, to geeky guys with a penchant for staying inside, she’s found every type of guy for me to go on a date with over the past few years. I shake my head as the intrusive thoughts bubble to the surface.

At least the baker hours I have keep most guys away. Waking up at three in the morning most days is a huge dealbreaker for some people. Keeps my dating life right where I want it— casual flings and not at all looking for love.

***

Jake

Living in New York City means noise at any given moment of the day. Not even a dull background, white-noise kind of constant buzz. At four in the afternoon there might be a rowdy group of day drinkers making their way down the street. At three in the morning? Ambulance and car alarms.

In a city that never sleeps, sometimes that means you don’t sleep either. In addition to my regular alarm clock, this morning I wake up to some shouting down below, construction noises across the street, and of course the classic ambulance speeding down the block.

After a rough night of tossing and turning, I wake up with the satin sheets all in a tangle around my body. I had read that sleeping in the nude was good for your body’s immune system, and figured why not try it to see if it rang true or not. So far it just meant I wake up in a fight with my sheets. I rub my eyes, trying to wake up.

Today’s going to be a long day.

I shouldn’t have stayed so late at the office last night. While today is just a Thursday, I know I have a jam-packed day in the office. Being a lawyer up for partner at a prestigious law firm in New York City focusing on financial law means most of my days are long days. I tend to stay late a lot and even go in on the weekends here and there. Everything will change when I officially make partner.

I take a deep breath before finally getting out of bed.

Coffee first, then I’ll get ready.

My body feels as though I’m moving through quicksand. I’m going to skip a weights session today. I can just make it up this weekend with an extra-long workout. Once I have the coffee brewing, I take a shower. I catch myself before using conditioner as face wash. I’m definitely moving slow this morning.

As I stand in my walk-in closet I stare at the rows of choices. All a bit dull, but professional. From light grays to rich navy suits, with multiple white button downs and silk tie options, it should be easy to pick something out. Everything has its place, organized and tidy, no room for errors. Pretty much my approach with everything in life. I scan the closet a few times. I decide on a basic grey suit, white dress shirt, and a blue striped, Italian silk tie to complete my look.