Page 25 of Christmas at the Guest House

“I know that’s right.” Mindy chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “My name is Mindy Harvey. I’m the owner of Baking Fiend, the new bakery that just opened at the other end of town.”

She hooked a thumb over her shoulder as she spoke, indicating the direction of her shop, and Sarah nodded.

“I’m well aware. I saw the news segment about your bakery.”

A smug look flitted across Mindy’s face, and Sarah was sure that the other woman was glad Sarah knew who she was—as if having the other baker in town already know who she was and the name of her shop was some type of victory for Mindy. Sarah tried her best to stifle the competitive spirit that rose up in her in response to that thought, but it was difficult.

She had always been driven to produce the best pastries and treats she could, to make her business the best it could be… and until Mindy’s arrival in town, she had felt certain of her success. But now it was hard not to question everything she had built, and to get drawn into the urge to one-up the other woman.

“I’m glad to hear you’ve heard of me,” Mindy said smoothly. “That news story was so much fun to shoot. I was surprised when they called me, but it was very flattering that they wanted to do a piece on me.” Her gaze drifted back to the display case. “It looks like we have verydifferent offerings. These treats are so cute and rustic.” She put a little twist on the last word, and Sarah wasn’t so sure it was meant as a compliment. “My bakery caters to people looking for something a little more refined, so there’s no way we’ll be competing for business. There will be plenty of room for us both.”

Sarah gritted her teeth together, trying her best not to react to the not-so-subtle dig.

“I guess only time will tell.” She shrugged one shoulder as she spoke, determined to appear unaffected as she worked to tamp down her emotions.

Mindy pointed to one of the trays in the case that was empty except for a small, paper tag. “I see that you have a card out for peanut butter chocolate cupcakes. Do you use a ganache, or do you just have the peanut butter in the frosting?”

“Both,” Sarah said, lifting her chin proudly.

“Interesting.” The other woman hummed. “You know, when I was in culinary school, they taught us to make these amazing chocolate cupcakes that we infused with peanut butter and then topped with chocolate crumbles. They were extremely popular. The bakery attached to the school could never keep them on the shelves.”

At the mention of culinary school, Sarah’s heart fell. She had never formally trained in baking, although she’d spent years studying and practicing on her own. For some reason, she had assumed that Mindy would be in the same boat, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

“I studied in Upstate New York,” Mindy carried on. “Just a small school, but very prestigious. Where did you study?”

Sarah suppressed a groan at the question.

“Um… I didn’t,” she muttered. “I’ve spent my entire life baking, and my parents always said I have a natural talent for it. But I didn’t attend school to study baking.”

“Oh.” Mindy’s mouth pulled into a surprised little frown, but then she waved a hand in the air. “Well, that’s all right. I’m sure your desserts are still phenomenal.”

Once again, Mindy’s words said one thing, but her tone and body language said something entirely different.

Sarah wanted to sink into the floor, sure her face was bright red by now. At the beginning of her career, she had worried about not being formally trained. She had been terrified that not having gone to school for it would put her behind some of the other bakery owners she followed online and looked up to a great deal. But as the years had ticked by and she had continued to practice, her talent had grown by leaps and bounds.

She had always hoped that her dedication and willingness to keep learning would be enough. And up until this very moment, she had felt that it was. But now, with Mindy staring her down with barely concealed pity in her eyes, Sarah couldn’t help but suddenly feel inadequate.

“Uh, is there anything I can get started for you?” she asked, hoping that Mindy would just order something and go on her way quickly. This entire interaction was unraveling all the calm acceptance Sarah had built up inside herself regarding the presence of a new bakery in town.

“I’d love something with a little caffeine. Where do you get your coffee from?” Mindy asked, glancing at the board on the wall behind Sarah with the list of drink offerings.

“I buy from a market in New York City and have it shipped here,” Sarah explained, a note of pride in her voice.

“Oh, how quaint.” Mindy smiled, adjusting the collar of her brightly colored coat. “I order ours in directly from Colombia. But New York is so much closer, which must be easier. And I’m sure you get a much better price for the lower quality beans.”

Sarah felt defensiveness rise up inside her, and she straightened her shoulders. “They aren’t lower quality.”

“Oh, right.” Mindy held up a hand, her fingers fluttering. “I didn’t mean to assume. I’m sure they’re wonderful. Anyway, I’ll take a latte to go please.”

Sarah quickly rang up the woman’s drink order and announced the price. She took Mindy’s card and swiped it through the card reader before turning to the espresso machine, glancing over at William. He was deep in conversation with a couple at a table near the window, and he probably hadn’t even noticed who their newest customer was, so there was little chance of him coming over to rescue her.

She steamed the milk and pulled the espresso shots as quickly as possible, eager to get the other bakery owner out of her shop. Even though she was in a hurry, she made sure to steam the milk to perfection, and as she poured it over the espresso, she gave a little flick of her wrist to create a leaf pattern in the foam.

Satisfied that she’d created a top tier latte—even with her beans from New York—she slid the drink across the table to Mindy.

The curly-haired woman gave Sarah another wide but slightly fake smile. “Thanks so much. I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”

“Looking forward to it,” Sarah said, hoping the lie wasn’t obvious.

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