Chapter 25
The Foundry was a newly opened facility just outside the historic district.
Mia had catered a fundraiser for the Willow Haven Shelter here a while ago.
Today, stripped of twinkling lights or glamour, it was what it needed to be—a wide open space with clean lines and good light that spilled through tall industrial windows.
A table had already been set up for the bride’s parents, the mayor’s daughter and her fiancé.
Mia arrived an hour early to set up. Most of the prep had been done that morning at the farmhouse, with final assembly planned here, where she actually had power. She asked Sarah to help but needed another pair of hands and took a chance that Norah wasn’t working. Luck was on her side.
“Hi, Norah,” Mia said, unpacking her pans. The cold food was already in the big industrial refrigerator humming in the background, a sound she found oddly comforting, especially after the past couple of days.
“Mia, hi.” Norah tied an apron around her waist. “What can I do to help?”
“Centerpiece first, then place settings. Sarah’s in the kitchen, prepping.”
Mia looked at the beautiful arrangement that Nicki from Petals to Go had created just for today.
Soft and elegant, it was something the bride-to-be could take home afterward.
The low arrangement was all soft creams and blush—ranunculus and garden roses tucked into eucalyptus. It was elegant without trying too hard.
Norah nodded and went to work.
An hour later, Josie Langford arrived with her fiancé, Andrew Spencer, and her parents.
“This looks beautiful,” Josie exclaimed, glancing around the table.
“Please make yourselves comfortable,” Mia said with a smile. “I’ll walk you through what you’ll be tasting.”
She nodded to Norah, who stepped forward with a tray of drinks and hors d’oeuvres balanced with practiced ease.
“We’ll start with a small bite to wake up the palate,” Mia said, naming the selections as Norah moved around the table. Her voice was steady even though her pulse ticked up a notch.
Martha Langford tasted first, then reached for another. “This is delicious. Light but full of flavor.”
Mia allowed herself a small breath of relief. This was a good start. There was still a full menu ahead and no room to stumble.
Shallow white bowls were placed in front of the group.
“Butternut squash bisque,” Mia said. “Brown-butter créme fraiche, crispy sage and toasted pumpkin seeds.”
Steam curled up, carrying the scent of roasted squash and nutty butter—warm and familiar.
Josie lifted her spoon, tasted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
Her mother nodded, already halfway through her bowl. “It’s rich but not heavy.”
“Yes,” Mia said. “It opens the meal without stealing the show.”
Mia smoothed her hands down the front of her jacket and took a cleansing breath.
The citrus salad followed, bright and fresh, a deliberate contrast. Then the entrees: tastings of beef medallions in a pool of red wine demi-glace, garlic whipped potatoes, roasted carrots and beans; or pan-seared chicken supreme with wild rice pilaf and roasted root vegetables.
Conversation picked up as forks moved faster, nods were exchanged and a quiet approval settled around the table.
The vegetarian course followed.
“Wild-mushroom risotto with lemon thyme oil,” Mia said, watching Josie closely now.
Josie smiled. “I have friends who will love this.”
Finally, the plates were cleared, and Mia felt the tension ease just a fraction.
“For dessert,” Mia said, “warmed chocolate tortes or maple-pecan tart with whipped bourbon cream, and candied pecans. My signature.”
Josie tasted the tart and smiled. “This tastes like winter in the best way.”
Andrew nodded in agreement.
The mayor set down his fork and looked at her. “This is impressive. Thoughtful. Polished.”
Mia inclined her head. “That’s always the goal.”
Josie reached for Andrew’s hand. “I think we’re going to have a hard time choosing.”
“Take your time,” Mia said. “I’ll send a summary and pricing once you’ve decided.”
The family thanked her as they filed out, smiles on their faces.
As they left, Mia stood alone for a moment, the echo of their approval still lingering and warming something deep in her chest.
Thursday morning, Caleb’s truck was already in the drive when Mia stepped outside. He was talking to the guys, hands moving as he explained something.
She hadn’t expected he would be back to work on the barn right away, and the sight of him tugged at her more than she wanted to admit.
“You’re back,” she said, smiling before she could stop herself.
“Got in last night,” he replied. “I’m anxious to get this done for you.”
“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful when it’s finished,” Mia said, trying her best not to ogle him. The morning sun was catching in his hair. His tool belt hung low over worn jeans, and the black tee stretched over a muscular chest did absolutely nothing to help her focus or remember how to breathe.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You need to stop looking at me like that or I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you in front of everyone.”
Mia’s pulse raced. Oh yes, please. The thought sent a dangerous thrill straight through her.
She grinned. “Message received. Only ogle when no one is around.”
Caleb shook his head, a smile tugging at his mouth as he stepped back toward the crew.
Tires crunched down the drive as Mia headed back to the barn.
The electrician. Relief washed through her.
She was hoping they’d come today. The electrical issues had been gnawing at her.
They’d already cost her time and money, and they touched on the one thing she couldn’t afford to gamble with. Her business.
The quote almost stopped her heart, but she agreed without hesitation.
Some things had to be fixed properly.
There was nothing for her to do while the electrician worked, so she drove into town to meet Autumn Bennett.
The timing was almost comical. One minute she was sweating an electrical panel, the next she was thinking about branding and pretty pictures.
But after the tasting with the mayor’s daughter, she realized she couldn’t afford not to.
Josie loved the menu. Her mother practically licked the bowl clean.
And she could still hear the mayor’s voice telling her that her menu was thoughtful and polished.
And if they did book her? She wanted everything to look as good as it tasted because this could be the moment things finally tipped in her favor.
Lainey had introduced her to Autumn months ago, promising that she had an eye for food photography. Mia needed that. Not just for social media but also for proposals, for brochures, for the kind of people who decided with their eyes first and rarely gave second chances.
She parked in front of LilyPad Confections downtown and stepped into the light and airy bakery Emelia used to own.
The new owners hadn’t changed anything. The walls were still pale pink, the wooden tile floors were light, and there were lots of airy plants tucked into corners.
Wide glass display cases lined the front, filled with neat rows of pastel frosted cupcakes, glossy fruit tarts and assorted pastries that all looked yummy.
The scent of espresso hung in the air, competing with butter and sugar and cinnamon. Mia inhaled deeply; it was a heady, comforting combination.
She spotted Autumn waving from a small, round white table near the window.
“Hey,” Autumn said, standing to hug her.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Mia said, smiling, grateful for the distraction.
“Of course.” Autumn pushed back a strand of her chestnut hair. “I’m excited. Lainey said you’ve got some big things happening.”
Mia gave a small laugh. “Big and slightly chaotic, if I’m being honest.”
“Chaotic is fine.” Autumn grinned. “Usually photographs beautifully.”
“You haven’t ordered anything yet?”
“No, I just got here.”
“Well, this is my treat,” Mia said. “Tell me what you want.”
“Coffee,” Autumn said without hesitation. “And surprise me with something sweet.”
Mia nodded. She walked over to the glass case and stared. Everything looked inviting. “Let me have two coffees, a cinnamon roll and one lemon-raspberry tart.
She paid, then glanced back toward Autumn and imagined for a second the new event barn with morning light pouring in, a simple backdrop and her food plated like it deserved to be—clean, confident and unmistakably hers.
Autumn licked her lips as she set the coffee and plates of pastry down. “Oh my, everything in this shop screams ‘eat me.’”
Mia laughed. “I know. It was hard deciding what to choose.”
They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence. Then Autumn asked, “Tell me what you’re hoping to get out of this. Social media? Website? Something bigger?”
Mia placed the cup on the table. “All the above. Although I don’t have a website right now. I have a new space that’s almost finished, and I’d love to shoot there.”
“An event space?”
“A barn,” Mia said, then smiled. “Not rustic but open. It’ll be small but intimate.”
“I love that. Food photographs best when it belongs somewhere.”
Mia nodded. “I’ve got some high-end tastings coming up. The kind where presentation matters as much as flavor.”
“Sounds like you’re leveling up.”
“Trying to,” Mia said quietly.
“Well, I’ve had your food, and it’s delicious and pretty. This should be easy.” Autumn smiled. “We should absolutely shoot in the new space. I can see it already. Natural light, a few styled plates, some action shots. You cooking, plating.”
Mia felt a small spark of excitement. “That sounds perfect.”
“Good, I can’t wait to get started,” Autumn said. “Your food deserves to be seen.”
Mia glanced down at the tart, its glossy berries catching the light, and wished just for a moment that she could shine the same way.
Back at the old barn, while Mia was in town, Roy stayed close, making himself useful while the electrician worked, asking a few practical questions about the panel and what it meant for the rest of the property.
A new panel. Clean. Labeled. Not like the old one.
He watched the man tighten the last screw, the metal door swinging shut with a solid click. A sound that felt final in a way he didn’t quite like.