“Jude is gone most of the day, working on his projects and spending time with his friends, so it’ll mostly be us at home,” Ashley pointed out with a smile. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
Amy shook her head. “No. Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.”
“Lily’s family is our family too,” Ashley replied with another quick look around. “Well, I’ve got to get to the laundry. Shout if you need anything.”
With that, she left the room, letting the door click shut behind her.
Amy wandered around and poked her head into the tile-floored bathroom, which had a shower stall with a glass door and a bathtub opposite it, next to what looked like a brand-new sink. A bar of red soap had been unwrapped along with a pack of fresh towels, and the smell of berries and honey lingered in the air.
When Amy went back into the room, she realized she had no idea what to do with herself. So, she found herself barefoot in the backyard, examining Ashley’s rosebushes. She tilted her head up to feel the midmorning sun on her face, and it warmed thebridge of her nose, chasing away some of the cold and darkness that had settled around her heart.
Coming here was the right decision to make, even if Amy had no idea what the future looked like.
She no longer felt like just a mother or a wife.
For the first time in years, Amy was free to learn exactly who she was outside of all of this, and she was surprised to realize that thought both terrified and exhilarated her.
Chapter Three
She pushed her chair back and stretched her arms over her head. Then, she looked away from the laptop and peered through her office window, a frown hovering on the edge of her lips as she watched people come in and out of the park across the street.
The view outside her window usually made her feel better, but not today.
Today, even the bright sun set against a backdrop of clear blue skies did nothing to lift her spirits.
With a heavy sigh, she sat back down behind her desk and pressed two fingers to her temples. Slowly, she rubbed in slow, circular motions to ward off the headache that had been threatening to overtake her entire day since she woke up hours ago.
A quick and brisk jog through the empty streets of Falmouth hadn’t helped, and several cups of coffee had barely dented the thing.
Emily was beginning to think it was going to be one of those days.
And she had no idea how to salvage any of it, not when the sheets of paper strewn all over her desk glared at her, begging to be acknowledged.
Heaving another sigh, Emily removed her fingers and shuffled the papers around. After organizing them into piles, she got up and wandered over to the mini fridge she kept in the corner, which had a small tray with a kettle and a box full of tea and coffee.
With a frown, she added a packet of chamomile tea and rummaged through the fridge for the honey. When the door to her office opened, Emily glanced over her shoulder and found herself staring at Angela, her head baker, who had a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and wisps of red hair peeking out from beneath her white cap.
Sighing, Angela stepped into the office and let the door click shut behind her.
Emily straightened her back and spun around to face her. “Is it Mark again?”
Angela ran a hand over her face. “I know it’s slim pickings lately, but can we really not find anyone else? He ruined two batches of cupcakes today, and yesterday, he nearly singed everyone’s eyebrows off because he didn’t adjust the heat on the oven.”
Emily kicked the door shut with the back of her leg. After adding a dollop of honey to her tea, she set it down on the tray. “I know it’s going to be tough, but—”
“I know, I know. It’s just that things have been tough ever since Valerie opened her bakery across the street.”
Emily frowned. “We’ve been here longer, and we’ve got a loyal customer base, so I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The novelty will wear off.”
Even as she said the words, Emily knew how naïve she sounded.
Banking on customer loyalty was all she could do.
Emily was hanging on by the skin of her teeth, desperate and praying they survived the people who lined up outside of Valerie’s bakery every morning.
Because at the end of every day, when everyone else went home for the night, and she was left alone with the numbers, Emily had to sit at her desk with tight knots in her stomach and a bad taste in the back of her mouth.
For now, Decadent Treats was hanging on, but it was hard not to take Valerie’s business move personally.
