Page 37 of Craving

“Online sales have been steady, but if I could meet some local wedding planners and vendors, I think it’ll help me drum up more business around here.”

Lucy had started designing and selling specialty stationery years ago as a side gig to put herself through college. She’d carved a niche for herself in creating wedding invitations, seating plans, table name cards, and all the other sundry required to put on a big event. Now, it was her full-time job.

“Smart,” Scarlett said with a nod. “I use social media a lot, but referrals are really where it’s at. If you can get a line to a few good wedding planners, you’ll be able to grow your business fast.”

“I’m hoping to do the same this year,” Camilla added. “Hopefully the Goodhew wedding can put me on the map.”

“The only thing I’m worried about is being at the Wedding Expo at the same time as Aaron Phillips. He won’t be happy that I’m moving in on his turf. He’s been the go-to wedding stationery guy in Stirling for twenty years.”

“Aaron Phillips can get his head out of his ass and realize that competition is the lifeblood of business,” Scarlett stated. “I had some nasty words with the old lady that runs Stirling Flowers when I first moved in, but she just needed to be put in her place.”

Lucy tilted her head from side to side. “Yeah. Aaron’s kind of scary, though.”

“In a Napoleon Bonaparte sort of way,” Scarlett added.

“What, like he’s going to invade Russia and fail?”

“No, Camilla,” Scarlett huffed, holding back her laugh. “Like he’s an angry little man who needs to be a self-proclaimed emperor in order to feel good about himself.”

“Last time I saw him he literally shook his fist at me,” Lucy cut in with a shiver, “and it was so creepy I crossed the road so I wouldn’t have to be near him.”

“You should hire someone to work the Expo with you if you feel unsafe. I can ask Marlon what his company charges, or if that’s too much you could hire a college kid or something,” Camilla said.

Lucy hummed. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Camilla opened her mouth to press the issue, but her phone alarm began to ring. She glanced at the time. “I have to get back to the bakery. See you guys at bootcamp tomorrow morning?”

“See ya!” Scarlett called out as Camilla reached the door. “Remember to use protection!”

Camilla rolled her eyes and waved goodbye. Cold slapped her in the face as she stepped outside, so she buried her chin into her jacket and hurried to her car. She was so busy bracing herself against the chill that she didn’t realize there was a man standing next to her driver’s side door.

“Frankie says hello,” the man said, expressionless. The blankness of his features was almost more intimidating than if he’d snarled.

Camilla gulped and tried to keep the trembling from her voice. This was just like dealing with her family: She couldn’t let them think her weak. “Move away from my car.”

“He wants part of your payment by the end of the week.”

“What?” Camilla screeched, frowning at him. “I don’t owe him anything until December.”

“Fine print says he can request partial payment anytime. End of the week. A thousand bucks.” The man pushed himself off the side of her car and loomed over her, then stalked away.

Hands shaking, Camilla dove into her car and locked the doors. She watched the other man get in an SUV and drive off, then gripped her steering wheel with both hands, sucking in deep breaths until she felt calm enough to drive.

A thousand dollars by the end of the week? He was toying with her. If she hadn’t gotten the deposit from Fred, the window and the oven would have drained her accounts completely.

A thought made her brows tug together. What if…

No. That was crazy.

But what if Frankie was the one causing these problems at her business? Was he trying to sabotage her? Was she completely paranoid?

Camilla put her hands near the heating vents and focused on warming herself up. Then she put the car in gear and mulled over her suspicions. She crossed the Stirling Bridge, her hands white-knuckled on the wheel, and parked the car behind the bakery, then leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes.

Someone had thrown a rock in her window, and her oven had experienced an electrical fault. Both of those things were normal, unfortunate occurrences for a business. She couldn’t let her worries cloud her judgment. She’d just have to cut some of the staff hours this week, work them herself, and scrounge up the money for the payment Frankie was demanding. Ben had been asking for a few days off, anyway. She was useless at latte art, but her customers could deal with it for a few days.

If she ran the bakery with a skeleton crew, she could save on labor costs and make the final payment.

It was almost over. She’d just get the money together, pay Frankie what she owed him, and turn the page. Everything would be okay. It had to be.

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