Page 28 of Working For Her Sweet Treats
Ava breaks the muffin in half and gives me the larger piece.
“Trying to influence my professional opinion?”
“You already built the display.”
“Then what are you trying to influence?”
She looks out toward the water. “Maybe I’m celebrating.”
I wait. She takes a bite before speaking again. “My ex-husband thought the bakery was foolish.”
I notice she’s lost her usual sarcasm and is serious now.
“He called it a hobby that would become an expensive mistake. Whenever I tried to explain what I wanted, the conversation somehow ended with him telling me what I should do instead.”
I turn toward her, but she keeps watching the river.
“By the end of the marriage, I second-guessed everything. The bakery. Leaving him. Moving here. Some days, I still wake up convinced I’ve made a catastrophic financial decision.”
“You opened eleven days ago and just received an order for two hundred and twenty pastries.”
Her gaze meets mine.
“That sounds like trusting yourself,” I tell her, holding her gaze.
Something softens in her expression. “That was a good answer.”
“I have them occasionally.”
“You should stop while you’re ahead.”
I should. Instead, I begin thinking about deposits, delivery routes, refrigerator capacity, and the cost of last-minute help.
“You should require fifty percent upfront,” I say. “And you may need a backup plan for refrigeration. I know someone who rents portable commercial units, and my crew could …”
Ava raises one hand. I stop.
“You were doing really well.”
“At what?”
“Listening.”
“I was still listening.”
“You were reorganizing my business.”
“I was offering solutions.”
“I know.” Her voice is not angry. “That’s what you do.”
“Problems are easier when they have solutions.”
“People aren’t problems, Jake.”
“I don’t think you’re a problem.”
The answer comes too quickly to be anything but true. Ava watches me, the humor fading from her eyes.
