Page 51 of Break Me Like a Promise (Oak Valley)

“It was a pleasure watching you work in the kitchen, Mr. Taylor. You moved efficiently and worked well with your fellow chef. Communication and attention to detail was not overlooked by speed. I was most impressed with the decision to triple the macaron batter to ensure extras. As for your flavors. The tart was well-executed, although I would’ve liked a little less meringue. There was white chocolate in there, yes? Okay, a nice way to offset the acid but just a touch too much. Each of your macaron combinations were impeccable. And the eclairs… Quite frankly, Mr. Taylor, I’ve never had anything like it. The black currant had the perfect bite and sweetness to cut the almond, while still allowing the depth of the almond to highlight the fruit. The pastry was light and full, and there was the perfect amount of filling.” Without so much as a smile, Pierre walked on to Adam.

Colton was reeling from what he said and unable to listen to what Pierre told his fellow chefs. He might actually do it. He might actually be offered a dream job under his idol’s tutelage. When the head chefs resumed their positions at the front of the room, he was only slightly prepared for Pierre’s announcement.

“You all showed immense amount of skill and understanding of the work in being a pastry chef. However, we would like to extend the full-time positions to Mr. Adam Clarke, Mr. Colton Taylor, and Ms. Eliza Williams. Ms. Maria Petrov and Mr. Ali Khan, thank you for joining us and we do look forward to seeing what you do in the future.”

Annette extended an arm and gently led the young woman and the Middle Eastern man from the room, while Julien went about cleaning the tables. Colton looked at Adam and Eliza, who were as stricken as he was. The announcement hit him square in the head, and the consequences: leaving Oak Valley, leaving his mom and sister, leaving Ruby. But also… working under a famed pastry chef, workingasa pastry chef, following his dream. And, of course, leaving Oak Valley.

This is what he’d dreamed about since he was young.

So why wasn’t he crying and laughing with joy like his peers?

44

Beryl sat in the chair with the tubes attached, napping under a couple blankets, knitting needles still loosely held in her hands. Ruby considered moving them so they didn’t fall, but didn’t want to risk waking her mom up. They were on week eight of twelve in the first three-month chemo course. Only two more cycles before they could determine the next course of action. They spoke to the doctor before this session and Ruby didn’t want to get her hopes up, but his language, his attitude, was better. The cancer had metastasized to her bones, but they caught it early and the doctor alluded to it receding, along with the cancerous cells in her mom’s breast.

Ruby wasn’t hopeful, but she wasn’t not hopeful.

She opened her laptop, forcing herself to look at the unanswered emails. But first her texts. After Colton had taken awhile to respond, she waited until the following morning to respond to his text. But that was yesterday, and it’d been a full twenty-four hours.

Something was wrong, this wasn’t like him.

But Ruby caught herself — did she really even know him? Sure, old Colton would’ve ben glued to his phone to respond to her. Even Colton three weeks ago was more like that. But whatever this Colton was doing had started after they’d slept together. Ruby’s heart sank at the familiar realization that maybe this man she really like — especially after years of being a sought after, rich, play boy celebrity — had only wanted one thing from her.

Well, that was beyond disappointing. And when paired up with Cara’s weird closeness to him, even after all these years… Ruby shuddered at the thought, her stomach roiling with nausea. Maybe she should get to those emails. She worked through the ones she could somewhat focus on, that were easy to swallow. A couple easy responses about deadlines for Rachel at Maven Media, a couple easy answers for some TV clients, and one very lengthy one from Macy about being two weeks out from the Valentine’s Day Festival, complete with a checklist for Ruby’s tasks over the remaining period. No mention of what Ruby had already gotten done — press releases in newspapers outside of the local gazette, a thirty second radio spot, the kissing country booths halfway built and ready to go. She was still hunting down kissing volunteers, but worse case she knew her friends would step in.

Ruby smiled at the thought. She’d been able to build real friendships after moving home. When she first moved to New York City, a boss she was friendly with had told her it was the busiest, loneliest city in the world. She hadn’t wanted to believe it — how could a city so filled with magic be so lonely? — but that was almost entirely her experience. And it had become easy to settle into it, accept it for what it was.

But here? She’d finally found her tribe. A group of women she could laugh with, gossip with, who all supported and challenged one another. Hell, someone could make a movie or TV show from how perfect the dynamic was, and probably already had. And all it took was moving home.

Was she really ready to leave?

A tiny voice in her head argued she would always be ready to leave, if it meant following Colton. But Ruby had never been — nor wanted to be — the woman that followed a man. And if she was honest with herself, she would really hate to leave the new life she was building for herself here. That realization hurt, sending a sinking feeling through her body as Olive’s name popped up on her screen as a phone call, and she answered it.

“Hey, babe! I was just thinking about you. How’s the bakery?”

“Good! I was actually hoping maybe I could take you up on that offer for marketing the bakery. Or just some sort of business savvy plan to spruce things up.”

Speaking of building a new life. “For sure. I’m with my mom right now but I could come by in a couple hours?”

“Oh, of course. Give your mom a hug for me. I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks so much, Ruby.”

They hung up and Ruby glanced at the time. Her mom’s session was about over, and she caught the eye of a nurse in the corner. Ruby carefully grabbed the knitting needles from her mom, taking them and the yarn and placing them back in Beryl’s purse. Her mom slowly opened her eyes, a small smile on her face.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hi, mom.” Ruby held her mom’s hand, the skin translucent and crepey. The nurse finished unhooking her mom, letting them know they could take some time before leaving.

“Psh, I’ve spent enough time here. I want my bed,” Beryl said, chuckling and moving to stand. Ruby helped her rise, handing her the cane just in case and throwing her bag and her mom’s over her shoulder. They slowly made their way out of the clinic and to the car, taking care to pause for breath. Ruby helped her mom into the car before driving home, careful to avoid going too fast or hitting any potholes.

She managed to help her mom into bed, and she promptly fell asleep. Ruby left a note for her on the nightstand but knew her mom would sleep for the next three hours, at least. The treatments were definitely taking their toll on her — she was so thin, so pale, always tired and weak. But maybe if the cancer really was receding, they could lessen the dosage in her next cycle. Because Ruby had that sinking feeling there would be another cycle, if not two or three. She pulled the covers up around her mom before giving a soft kiss on her temple and creeping down the hall. They’d decided to move Beryl’s room from the second floor to the first, close to Ruby’s room, so she wouldn’t have to deal with so many stairs and so Ruby was close by if Beryl needed anything.

Beryl hadn’t said anything about Colton’s car being in the driveway the morning after he stayed over, and hadn’t hinted at them being too loud during the night. Ruby blushed at the thought as she started the drive into town.

It really was like being sixteen all over again, staying up late and sneaking around and filled with that youthful, naive hope.

That stupid hope.

She pulled into the bakery parking lot, scanning for his black sports car, releasing a sigh of relief when she didn’t see it. She didn’t think she could handle seeing his stupid face right now. Grabbing her laptop, she was tempted to walk through the back instead of walking all the way to the front, but their back door opened into the kitchen. No need to disturb whoever was back there and in the process, get herself covered in flour.

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