Page 12 of Working For Her Sweet Treats

“You may tighten one screw.”

“Two are loose.”

“One.”

“That won’t solve the problem.”

“It will solve half the problem.”

“That isn’t how hinges work.”

“It is how permission works.”

I look at her. She looks back. There is no uncertainty in her expression. She is not asking me to agree with her reasoning. She is telling me where the line is.

I tighten one screw. Only one. Ava inspects the hinge as though she expects to find evidence of additional unauthorized labor.

“Happy?”

“No.”

“Neither am I.”

That earns me another twitch at the corner of her mouth. Loralee drifts closer and studies us with uncomfortable interest.

“You two have very compatible conflict styles.”

“We do not have anything compatible,” Ava says.

Loralee looks at me. I return to the counter and pick up my coffee and bakery bag.

“Whatever she is,” I say, “I like it.”

Ava’s lips part. Loralee beams as if I have confirmed a prediction involving planetary movement. I walk out before either of them can answer. This time, I wipe my boots on the way out, too.

Halfway to my truck, I realize I have left the multi-tool sitting on the counter. I stop and look through the bakery window. Ava is holding it. She glances toward the door and catches me watching. Then she smiles. It's not her customer-service smile. Not the small, reluctant one she has been trying to hide. A real one. I could go back for the tool. Instead, I get into my truck. I own six more. And now I have a reason to visit Sweet Treats again tomorrow.

Chapter 3

Ava

Jake Dalton leaves his tool on my counter. I immediately take notice that he didn’t leave it beside the napkins where a distracted customer might set something down and forget it. He leaves it directly in front of me after announcing that he likes whatever Loralee thinks I am, then walks out of the bakery without it.

It’s Deliberate … absolutely deliberate.

I hold the compact silver tool between two fingers and watch his truck disappear at the end of the block.

“He left that so he can come back,” Loralee says.

“I know.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“Because he thinks I don’t know.”

I open the drawer beneath the register and drop it inside.

Loralee peers over my shoulder. “You’re hiding it?”