Chapter 2 Ivy
IVY
Ivy slammed the bakery’s front door a little harder than necessary, flipping the sign to “closed” before leaning against the counter. Her hands trembled as she pressed them flat against the wood, trying to ground herself.
Celeste Winters. The Ice Queen.
She’d heard the nickname tossed around in business circles and the rumors that floated around, but she never expected to meet her in person—let alone have her standing in her bakery, threatening to take everything Ivy and her family had worked so hard for.
She could still feel the chill of Celeste’s gaze, like a blade carving through her.
“Mommy?” Ellie’s soft voice drifted from the kitchen, snapping Ivy out of her thoughts. The little girl padded into the room, her auburn curls bouncing. “Why are you mad?”
Ivy forced a smile for her daughter’s sake and knelt down, pulling Ellie into a warm embrace. “I’m not mad, sweetheart. Just a little frustrated, that’s all.”
Ellie’s brow furrowed as she studied her mother. “Is it because of the lady in the fancy coat? She looked mean.”
Ivy laughed softly, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “She wasn’t mean, just…different.”
Yeah, different, Ivy thought. Different, as in ruthless and completely out of touch with what this bakery means to the community.
Ivy tried to push away the frustration that bubbled up again, but it lingered, heavy and oppressive.
She couldn’t dwell on it, though. There was dough to knead and sugar cookies waiting to be rolled out for tomorrow’s rush.
Baking had always calmed her nerves, and tonight, she needed the steady rhythm of it more than ever.
As the winter storm outside grew fierce, Ivy moved around the kitchen, flour dusting her fingers and the tips of her curls. But even as she lost herself in the familiar comfort of the baking process, Celeste’s sharp words lingered.
That woman was going to tear her world apart, and Ivy had no idea how to stop her.
The snow storm arrived faster than anyone had anticipated. By the time Ivy looked up from decorating the last batch of cookies, the world outside her window had turned into a swirling vortex.
She wiped her hands on her apron and checked the radio for updates.
“Major snow accumulation,” the weather reporter said. “Looks like the roads will be impassable by nightfall.”
Ivy chewed her lip. The storm wasn’t just bad news for the bakery; it was bad news for everyone. Small towns like this one didn’t handle heavy snow well. People would be estranged, and the holiday festivities would likely be canceled.
“Mommy, it’s snowing so much!” Ellie exclaimed, pressing her nose against the window. “Do you think Santa can still find us?”
Ivy smiled, setting a plate of warm cookies on the table. “I’m sure Santa’s got special snow boots. He’ll be just fine.”
But even as she reassured Ellie, a sense of unease crept over her. The storm was worse than she’d expected. She glanced at her phone, scrolling through messages from neighbors and friends checking in with each other.
And then one caught her eye.
“Celeste Winters is stuck in town. No rooms left at the inn. You think you could take her in?”
Ivy groaned, reading the message from her neighbor, Mrs. Fischer. The last thing she needed was to offer a room to the woman who was threatening to bulldoze her bakery. But she wasn't the kind of person who left others out in the cold—literally or figuratively.
With a sigh, she responded to Mrs. Fischer, agreeing to let Celeste stay in her guest house. At least it was separate from the main house, and Ivy could avoid her as much as possible.
Later that evening, after Ellie had been tucked into bed, Ivy paced by the front window, waiting for Celeste to show up. She’d barely finished tidying the guest house when headlights appeared at the end of her driveway.
A sleek black car—completely out of place in this snow storm—crept up the drive. Celeste stepped out, looking utterly unfazed by the weather, though her breath fogged in the cold air. Ivy pulled the door open, letting a rush of wind and snow swirl inside.
“Ms. Winters,” Ivy greeted cooly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I heard you need a place to stay.”
Celeste’s expression was unreadable as she stepped into the warmth of the house. Her gaze swept over Ivy, taking in her less-than-polished appearance.
“For now,” Celeste replied, her voice even. “It seems I’m stranded.”
Ivy’s jaw tightened, but she waved Celeste toward the door. “The guest house is out back. It’s small but comfortable.”
“Small is fine,” Celeste said, not bothering to glance outside. “I won’t be here long.”
The tension between them was palpable, the kind that made the air feel thick and heavy. Ivy didn’t miss the way Celeste’s cool demeanor clashed with the cozy warmth of her home or how out of place the business tycoon looked standing in her hallway.
“Follow me, then,” Ivy muttered, grabbing her coat and leading the way out back to the guest house.
Once Celeste was settled, Ivy lingered by the window, watching the snow continue to fall. The storm had trapped them both in the same town, forcing Ivy to confront the reality of Celeste’s presence.
She wasn’t sure what bothered her more—that Celeste was here, in her space, or that some part of her deep down was intrigued by the woman behind the ice queen facade.
She shook her head, as if she could dislodge the thought, reminding herself that Celeste Winters was nothing more than a threat to her livelihood. A distraction she didn’t need. And yet…
The memory of their earlier confrontation replayed in her mind, and Ivy couldn’t ignore the way her heart had raced—whether from anger or something else, she wasn’t sure.
Outside, the wind howled ever louder, rattling the windows. It was going to be a long night.