Chapter 1
Summer
A glaring late-June sun beat down as I snipped a large bunch of cilantro from Ba’s veggie patch. Our family dog, Tofu, watched me with fascinated but vacant eyes.
“See, this is what happens when you miscalculate produce orders,” I explained, brushing dirt off my jeans as I stood up. “You’d think I’d have figured it out after two and a half months, but no.”
Tofu’s protruding underbite grinned at me encouragingly.
“Anyway, it’s just to tide me over until tomorrow. Plus, Ba said I could anytime I wanted,” I reasoned. Tofu sneezed in agreement. I waved goodbye to the dopey white furball and hopped over the fence, grateful that my parents’ house was such a short walk from Starlight Grove’s town center.
I sped up to a brisk march through the familiar streets. Alvin was holding down the fort at the bakery alone, and I needed to get back before his sullen teenage aura chased away all my customers.
The lilting voice of Carmen Martinez, one half of the sister duo who owned Mariposa Market and head of the town’s busybody committee, called out to me. “Ooh, Summer, you look like you’re on your way down the aisle. When will that be, hmm?”
I glanced at the sprigs of cilantro in my hands. “Why are you suddenly trying to marry me off?”
Carmen placed the final touches on the market’s outdoor fruit display and scooped up the rotund cat purring around her legs. Felix was the town’s unofficial mayor, beloved and looked after by us all.
Felix was also an unelected dictator who ruled Starlight Grove with an iron fist.
“Olive, Ivy, and Lucy, and now it’s your turn. Isn’t that right, Felix?” Carmen crooned to the orange, white, and black monstrosity in her arms. “I was just saying that this morning when I fed you, wasn’t I?”
The whole town had watched Felix meddle in the love lives of all my friends the past year and I was not about to become his fourth guinea pig.
He was an adorable fluffy menace…but no.
Between wanting my new bakery to be a success and spending time with my friends and family, being single was a choice I was very happy with. No Felix services needed here.
I pointedly ignored Carmen’s jab about my singledom and focused on a much more dire issue. “Carmen, I fed Felix this morning. He snuck into the bakery while I was prepping.”
“Unbelievable. He was crying at me from outside the market window. Does that mean he got two breakfasts?”
“Three if whoever he stayed with last night also fed him.”
“Ay Díos mío, don’t tell James that.”
The veterinarian had given a whole speech about Felix’s cholesterol at the last town meeting. With charts.
“Felix, what’s the matter with you?” I scolded him. “You’re going to get us in so much trouble!”
His deadpan stare was absolutely unrepentant.
“Carino, I can’t believe I almost forgot this. Winnie left him behind when she was here with Lina this morning.” Carmen reached into her colorful apron and emerged with a worn, stuffed elephant.
“Peanut!” I exclaimed and took it from her. “Thanks, Carmen. Bedtime would’ve been a disaster without him.”
As I turned to leave, Carmen called after me. “By the way, did you hear the latest about Beaufort pack house?”
Who hadn’t? It was always the same story. The packs who rented the beautiful heritage home would inevitably break up and we would get new tenants who had no idea they were moving into a cursed house.
“When isn’t there gossip about that place?” I said, walking off.
“This is real gossip, Summer!”
But I was already gone. There was cilantro to get back to my bakery and a tattered elephant to return to my niece. I flicked open the group chat with my siblings.
Summer
I have Peanut!
Lina
oh thank god
can you send him home with Alvin? Mom said Winnie won’t go down for her nap
Summer
will do
Alvin
are you planning on coming back anytime soon or is the bakery mine now
I started composing a stern reply, telling my snotty little brother that I was almost there and that he should be grateful I had given him a summer job on a silver platter. My guard was down and Stanley O’Sullivan, our human mayor, was able to accost me.
“Just the lady I wanted to see!”
His voice boomed like a jet plane and I nearly sent my phone into orbit. “Stanley, I would like to live a long and healthy life if that’s okay with you,” I heaved, clutching my pounding heart.
“Summer, always a comedian!” Stanley chuckled as he straightened the collar of his shirt pompously. “I wanted to check that you’re all set for the Fourth of July potluck.”
It was my favorite Starlight Grove festival. Probably because it involved mountains of food and pretty sparkles in the sky. I was a simple girl.
“Of course. You know my family contributes every year,” I said slowly.
Stanley clicked his tongue. “I was asking about you. This is the first year your bakery is involved. If you need our support to get your bánh mì to that table on the fourth, you must let me know.”
“Um, thanks, Stanley. I will.”
Ack. As much as I liked to tease him for his symbiotic relationship with his clipboard and obsession with town ordinances, he really did care for Starlight Grove. Stanley had made it abundantly clear from the day we moved here that we belonged at the Fourth of July festival as much as anyone else.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t susceptible to the occasional mayoral power trip.
“Since you are being so supportive of my business and all,” I began sweetly. “How about you tell me who you approved to open a patisserie next to my bakery?”
I’d watched the shop being fitted out by contractors over the last two months. Seething.
Stanley’s pointed nose twitched with disapproval. “That is confidential. How many times must I tell you that the two businesses will form the cornerstone of what will eventually become the delightful Artisan Quarter of Starlight Grove?”
I crossed my arms. “Stanley, why do I get the impression you did this just so you can put that in a tourism pamphlet?”
Stanley’s sputtering confirmed my suspicions.
That man loved a pamphlet. I made the mildly threatening sign of I’m watching you with two fingers and continued on my way.
Even though I had long overshot the promised ten minutes I’d told Alvin I’d be out, I still took a quick peek into my friend Lucy’s sewing shop, hoping to say hello.
I snorted and kept on walking.
She was canoodling heavily with Leo, who had decided that was much more important than running his now-abandoned florist next door. They were neck-deep—tongue-deep, rather—in the honeymoon phase, and I was not about to interrupt them.
Somehow in the span of one short year, I had found myself as the last single omega in my group of friends.
And honestly? It was bittersweet. Olive, Ivy, and Lucy had found men who thought they hung the moon.
Our group chat got a little quieter. The time between coffee catch-ups stretched a little farther.
I understood—of course I understood. I was happy for them yet I missed my friends. Both things could be true.
It wasn’t like I was anti-pack. I’d tried it in college.
I could see myself having one again, in a far-flung future kind of way.
But right now? I honestly didn’t know how they would fit into my life.
Seeing my friends whenever I could was even more precious to me now.
I wanted to keep making time for my family, even after moving out, especially with my nieces growing up way too fast.
Those relationships were my priority. Men, who admittedly could be fun in short (naked) bursts, were low on the list.
I arrived at my bakery and a goofy smile crossed my face. Even though it was more work than I imagined and I was forced to wake up at ungodly hours, I couldn’t be happier.
My pride and joy sat on the far end of Starlight Grove’s main row of shops.
It was the smallest building on the street and absolutely perfect.
Gorgeous cream facade with a red arched door and yellow striped awning.
My charming little Vietnamese bakery on the lower level and my one-bedroom apartment on top.
Suns Out Bánhs Out. It was vibrant and irreverent and all mine.
Well, mine and my landlord’s.
Still, it was hard to believe the dream I had secretly held in my heart for years was now reality in front of me. Living at home and squirrelling away most of what I made working as a bookkeeper for Stanley’s husband Harry had finally paid off.
The bell above the door chimed as I pushed it open.
“Summer, almost all your cakes have sold out. And I told three people that they shouldn’t put cilantro in their bánh mì in case they had that gene that makes it taste like soap,” Alvin wheezed out on a long, relieved breath.
I laughed. “Alvin, you can just say we ran out.”
“I didn’t know that!”
Alvin was fifteen and his last growth spurt had rudely shot him a whole head taller than me. As his sister, I was predisposed to find him annoying while also being supremely protective of him.
“You should’ve just sent me to get the cilantro,” Alvin complained.
“I’ve been here since five a.m., and I wanted to get some fresh air. You did great,” I said, sincerely. I set down the herbs and pulled Winnie’s stuffed elephant out of my pocket. “Why don’t you head home and take Peanut with you.”
He whooped and headed toward the door. “By the way,” he threw over his shoulder as he left, “I think the owners of the patisserie are next door. Saw a fancy car out front.”
Trust Alvin to be oblivious to the bomb he just dropped. I hastily scrawled Back in 5 mins on a napkin and stuck it on the swinging open sign.
The sky blue building the patisserie occupied was more than twice the size of mine.
There was a sign now. Freshly installed, circular, and attached to an iron bracket protruding from the wall.
A gold illustration of a croissant sat on a navy blue background and Patisserie L’étoile d’Or curled beneath in a pretentious swirly font.
Are you kidding me? A fucking chain? The original in New York had been so successful two more had opened along the Eastern seaboard.
Why the fuck were they here?
There were three men inside. I scoffed. Probably some corporate stooges who didn’t give a shit about this town and its people. Thinking they could fly in, dazzle us with a shiny new shop, and make a quick buck off us.
Okay, except one of them definitely did not look like a corporate stooge.
I squinted, drawing closer to the glass.
Broad shoulders filled out a distressed graphic tee, and thick dark hair obscured his face.
He was tattooed. Heavily. Complex, dense black ink crawled up his neck, down his arms, and over his hands.
The afternoon sun glinted off several piercings.
What the hell?
Then he turned and looked straight at me.
And I would recognize that crooked half smile anywhere.