Chapter 6
“This week dragged,” I say as I take a sip of my water, the coolness soothing my throat from the long week.
The soft music in the restaurant fills the air. I glance across the table at Zay, who’s swirling his whiskey around in his glass before taking a sip.
Tonight is date night. We always try to have one date night a week where we go out and enjoy a nice dinner. Sometimes Rya and Ez join us, but tonight they wanted to stay in.
“Tell me about it,” he says, sipping on his whiskey.
He’s wearing a black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and his forearms lay rested on the table next to his drink.
“Work has been nonstop.” Zayn works for a mechanic shop called The Garage.
He’s been there ever since high school. He’s worked his way up to being their top mechanic.
Now people come in and request for him to work on their cars.
I lean back in my chair, regretting getting this dressed up.
I wanted to wear my new burgundy heels that strap around my ankle and have a bow in the back.
I bought them in Vegas and wanted to wear them out, so I paired them with a flowy, long-sleeve beige dress.
But my feet are throbbing from being on them from morning to night all this week.
And to make matters worse, I haven’t broken these heels in yet.
“At least we made it to date night. I’ve been looking forward to a night off from baking.
” I chuckle lightly. Luckily, I got my orders all made before our reservation.
“Have you thought anymore about opening up a storefront bakery?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” I say, avoiding eye contact with him.
He’s been wanting me to open up my own bakery since I started doing this full time.
It terrified me enough to quit my stable corporate job to do something I had no idea what would come of it.
It’s been doing better than I expected, but making another big move terrifies me.
I know that’s what businesses need to do to grow, but it’s still scary.
Especially when I sometimes feel I have no support from Zay.
He chuckles, setting his glass down. “You’ll do fine with it.”
I have to admit, part of me thinks he wants me to open up a storefront so our house isn’t a mess with all the baking I do.
I glance over at him and give him a slight smile.
Part of the reason I bought this house was for us to have more room.
My business was growing, and we were growing out of the apartment we were living in.
Not to mention, I was sick of sharing walls and listening to everyone else’s living.
He should be happy with how much more room we have now.
One day I went searching around for a single-family home, not expecting to find anything.
This one popped up. I fell in love with the layout the moment I saw it and immediately called to go look at it.
It’s a three-bedroom house, with a lot of upgrades, the kitchen was perfect for what I needed.
It’s very open, with a huge island that has cabinets all around it.
The previous owners put in two ovens instead of one when they built it, which was a godsend for my baking, because I’m able to bake so much more.
And the fridge is bigger than the standard-size fridge.
There is also an office right next to the kitchen that I’m able to use for my extra supplies.
Even that one little room helped a lot because in our old apartment, everything was stored out in the open.
I also put a fridge in our garage for more storage.
Everything aligned and fell into place. It was perfect, and I couldn’t not put an offer in.
But Zayn was not on board. He’s never been one to want to purchase a home.
He thinks it’s a waste of money since we will never outright own it.
So I bought the house and kept his name off of everything.
We split the mortgage because that was the only way I was going to afford it, even though somehow the bank approved me.
“What’s holding you back?” he asks.
“What’s wrong with continuing my business in our home?
It’s not like customers come to the house,” I say, shaking my head.
That is one thing I did not want. I don’t allow customers at my home.
With everything going on nowadays, I get worried I might get an upset customer that comes back to harm me.
You just never know, so I’ve always been strict about that.
Even though it’s a pain at times, I deliver everyone’s orders.
I understand why it would be a great idea to have my own bakery, but I just haven’t had the guts to make the move yet.
He hesitates for a second before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I just don’t think business should be conducted in a private home.”
And there it is…
He doesn’t like me baking from home. I thought before it was because of how crowded our apartment would get. But now—I actually don’t know why now it bothers him.
“Why does it bother you?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.
Our waitress comes back with our food. “Let’s drop it,” he says as the waitress places our plates down.
Good idea. I’m too worn out for this conversation.