Page 63 of Rejected Heart
I pulled into a parking spot and rested my chin on my hands on top of the steering wheel as I marveled at everything around me. While I couldn’t see it all—it seemed as though they’d expanded their operations—there was still plenty at which to gaze in awe.
Not only could I see the hotel and the building that housed the offices, but I also noted some of the rides peeking up over the tops of those structures. In addition, there was the building that Jules had mentioned I’d find her. It was the same place that hosted chocolate-making tours, a massive gift shop, and tons of spots to eat outside of the amusement park.
If the buildings and the landscape could have changed this much since I’d last been here, I could only imagine the difference in the people. I’d had mere minutes with Liam, and it was plain as day that he’d changed. Jules had been nice enough, despite a few beats of awkwardness, but I wondered about the rest of the family.
Would they all hate me? Should I even be here?
There was only one way to find out. Plus, I thought it was reasonably safe to find Jules in the bakery. What were the chances that anyone else in the family would be there?
I took a deep breath, mustered up all the courage I could find, and got out of my car. With each step I took across the parking lot, my heart hammered. My instinct was to run, but something propelled me forward.
This was Jules.
Jules.
She was the sweetest girl in the world. She never would have invited me here if she had ill intentions.
I walked through the front doors, unsurprised by the number of guests inside. The place was buzzing with excitement. Westwood’s was an iconic location, so it was a hot spot for families and individuals, especially in the middle of summer.
Weaving my way through the crowd in the entryway, I waltzed through the open expanse of the gift shop and toward the area that rivaled the swankiest of food courts, if it could even be called that.
There were quite a few guests seated at tables, but given that it was after dinner time and judging by the looks on their faces, it was clear that most of the visitors to Westwood’s today had already finished their meals or desserts and were simply relaxing after what had likely been a long day in the amusement park.
My eyes scanned the area until they landed on the place I was looking for—The Mixing Bowl. Inhaling deeply once more, I plucked up the courage and allowed my feet to carry me forward to the bakery.
There was a pair of teenage girls there, paying for their treats. I came to a stop several feet away and waited.
And just as Jules had bid them farewell, her eyes met mine and widened in shock. “Layla.”
I offered a sheepish smile. “Hi, Jules.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I didn’t think you were going to come for a visit.”
“I didn’t either,” I admitted. I took in the bakery, noting the rows of empty trays in the glass display case. I expected nothing less at the end of the day. Jules had always been an excellent baker, and if anyone came here and overlooked whatever she normally had on display, they’d be missing out. “This place looks great.”
She beamed at me. “Thanks. Cooper did an excellent job with it.”
I should have guessed as much. Cooper, like Liam, loved working with his hands. It was no surprise he built this for his sister.
Jerking my chin toward the display case, I said, “It’s been busy today.”
“It’s like that every day in the summer months. It’s one reason I really need to consider hiring some additional help. I have a few part-timers, but it’s just not enough at this time of year.”
“I’m sure if you put out the word, you’ll have no trouble finding someone.”
Jules nodded. “So, how’s your mom doing? Is she still in the hospital?”
“No, she’s home now. Has been for a few days. She’s doing better now than she was the day I saw you, but it’s definitely been a bit challenging trying to adjust to things. She can’t be on her own at the moment.”
Questions lingered in her gaze, but Jules didn’t ask them. I had a feeling she was wondering what I was doing here if I was telling her the truth.
“My mom called her best friend over, and they kickedme out of the house,” I shared. “I’m actually not allowed to go back home for a few hours.”
Jules perked up. “Oh, well, grab a seat, and I’ll come over to chat with you for a bit.”
“I don’t want to interrupt or bother you.”
She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Not at all. I’d love to talk to you. Plus, your first dessert is on the house. Want anything special?”
