Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“Emelia, we’re worried about you. Maybe you should come home and try a different career path.”
“Mom, I told you I’m fine. The bakery is fine. Everything is fine.”
Emelia said goodbye and hung up the phone. The conversation was fruitless. Because nothing was fine. She wasn’t giving up, though. That wasn’t who she was. She took one last look at her present home. The small upstairs apartment over the bakery was in rough shape but cheap. Free even. Eventually, she’d get to renovate it.
Before anything else, she needed to complete the bakery. Emelia grabbed her jacket from the nail on the wall and headed downstairs.
She’d won the bidding war.
However, it had taken more money than Emelia expected to spend.
Not only was she worried about the cost of supplies, but orders for materials were behind schedule.
Bill, her contractor, had a family emergency and left for two days, putting the project on hold.
Her shop neighbors initially welcomed her. Now they were annoyed by the noise that disrupted their businesses in the alleyway. They said nothing, just frowned and shook their heads before walking by.
It wasn’t the welcome she’d hoped for.
Emelia had bumped into the gym owner one day when she was running out for a last-minute shipment of supplies. Sure, he was a tall drink of sexiness, but all he did was scowl at her and hurry on his way. Emelia didn’t need his negativity.
Wyatt was giving her a hard time with everything.
Her lawyer was not optimistic she could win a lawsuit since Wyatt had access to the checking account and the books. He manipulated them to prove his entitlement to everything he took. The comments on social media supposedly didn’t come from him, so she could do nothing about those.
She had sold all the equipment in the bakery and recouped some of her money but was screwed no matter how she looked at it.
Between Emelia’s parents urging her to come home and her brother and sister calling with unsolicited advice, she also had employees eager to work but no business.
Emelia walked into the bakery and stared at the planks of wood pushed off to one side that would be her shelves—eventually. The contractor had installed the kitchen appliances, but the kitchen still needed the stainless-steel counters.
By purchasing used equipment, she was able to save a ton of money. The glass display cabinets, chairs and tables were due any day now—she hoped. The one thing missing this morning was the work crew. They should have been here a half hour ago.
Emelia threw her hands up. The stress was overwhelming. Maybe a visit to the farmers’ market would make her feel better. The colorful displays and welcoming tradespeople would soothe her soul. One of these days, she’d take a booth there. Plans made, Emelia walked out the front door into a cloudy, very windy day. Her hair whipped around her face, and she almost face-planted into a brick building.
Could this day get any worse?
The farmers’ market was out—too nasty. Her stomach gurgled. When did she eat last?
Oh yeah. Yesterday—lunch.
The apartment lacked a stove. In fact, it lacked many things—a fridge, working windows, and most of the furniture. Everything else was either not working or outdated except for her bed. That was brand new. At least she could get her beauty sleep. Her meals comprised eating out or getting takeout. The diner she liked was a couple of blocks away, and that was where she headed.
The Red Rooster was everything a diner should be, from its red-leather seats and the knickknacks collected from defunct diners to homemade pies and regular customers treated like family.
“Hi there, Emelia. Here for your usual?” Margie, one of the owners, leaned in to hug her as she walked in. Heady scents of grilling burgers, crisp french fries, and the comforting smell of cinnamon and apples greeted her every time she came in. The Red Rooster served great food and delicious homemade pies, which they were known for. No competition there since she didn’t bake pies often.
“You bet!”
The diner wasn’t busy, so Emelia chose a small booth instead of the counter. Margie placed a napkin and silverware in front of her. Her usual was a bacon cheddar cheeseburger, onion rings and a seltzer. It would keep her full until dinner or until breakfast the next day. Then she’d try another restaurant.
Glancing around the diner, she saw several people sitting at the counter and noticed that half of the booths were occupied.
Emelia heard several giggles coming from a corner table.
Six women sat there enjoying themselves, teasing, joking, and laughing.
They looked like good friends, something Emelia was missing from her life.
There had been no spare time to meet anyone other than the contractor, his employees, and the people she interviewed for jobs.
Friends were just one of the many things lacking in her life at the moment.
“Here you go, hon.” Margie interrupted her thoughts as she placed her meal in front of her. “Anything else I can get you?”
Emelia shook her head and inhaled the savory scent of the charbroiled burger topped with cheese. “Yum. Thanks, Margie.”
“Well, good luck at the opening of your bakery. Walter and I are excited for you and can’t wait to visit.”
Emelia gave her a small smile.
Good luck? That was a laugh. She needed more than good luck—she needed a miracle.