Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
By late afternoon, Jade had learned several important lessons: electrical work was best left to people who knew which switch controlled what, but scrubbing and cleaning were well within her skill set.
She’d spent the hours since Leo’s departure working her way through the bakery with a bucket of soapy water and a determination to make something—anything—look better.
The windows sparkled now, inside and out.
The vintage tin ceiling, while still water-stained, no longer carried a coating of grease and dust. She’d reorganized the storage closet, swept behind every piece of equipment, and even managed to tighten the wobbly legs on three of the café tables using nothing more than a screwdriver and stubborn persistence.
Mabel had spent the day doing what she did best—baking.
Two batches of chocolate chip, one batch of pumpkin spice and a tray of gingerbread men now filled the newly illuminated display case, their warm scents mixing with the clean smell of Pine-Sol and lemon oil.
She’d also put together a batch of hot cocoa, the rich chocolate aroma drifting through the bakery like an invitation.
“I think this might be our busiest day in weeks,” Mabel announced, wiping her hands on her apron as she watched Mrs. Henderson from the hardware store leave with a box of cookies for her book club.
Jade looked up from where she was polishing the espresso machine—a temperamental beast that she hadn’t dared try to repair but could at least make shine. “Really?”
“Really. Six customers since lunch. That’s practically a rush for us lately.” Mabel’s voice held a note of wonder, as if she’d forgotten what it felt like to have people actually want to come into the bakery. “I think it’s the lighting. Makes everything look so much more inviting.”
“And the smell,” Jade added, inhaling the warm sweetness that now filled the space. “Hard to walk past fresh cookies without at least peeking in.”
She surveyed their afternoon’s work with satisfaction. The bakery wasn’t fixed—not by a long shot—but it was clean and bright and smelled like Christmas. It was a start.
The bell over the door chimed, and Jade looked up to see a familiar flash of blonde curls and a bright red coat. Felicity Adams burst through the entrance like a one-woman holiday parade, her arms loaded with paper bags that smelled suspiciously like Chinese takeout.
“Jade Bennett!” Felicity announced, setting the bags down on the nearest table with a dramatic flourish and enveloping Jade in a hug. “I bring sustenance and moral support, in that order of importance.”
She released Jade with a frown, taking in the layer of dust, the streak of window cleaner down her cheek, and the cobwebs tangled in her hair.
“Good lord,” Felicity said, pulling off her bright pink glasses to clean them, as if that might change what she was seeing. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve been wrestling with the building itself.”
“Something like that,” Jade said, suddenly aware of just how disheveled she must appear. “I’ve been... cleaning.”
“Cleaning,” Felicity repeated, taking in the sparkling windows, the gleaming counters, and the faint chemical smell of serious sanitization. “This looks less like cleaning and more like an exorcism. Did you banish the ghost of neglect?”
“We’re working on it,” Mabel said, emerging from the kitchen with a pleased smile. “Jade’s been a whirlwind all day. Though I did have to ban her from any more electrical work after this morning’s excitement.”
“Electrical work?” Felicity’s eyebrows shot up. “Please tell me you didn’t try to rewire something based on a YouTube video.”
“Why does everyone assume that?” Jade protested, though her indignation was undermined by the scorch mark still visible on the wall behind her.
“Because you have that look,” Felicity said, settling into one of the café chairs and beginning to unpack the takeout bags. “That ‘I can figure this out myself if I just try hard enough’ look. I’ve seen it before. Usually right before disaster strikes.”
The smell of lo mein and sweet and sour chicken filled the air, making Jade suddenly realize she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She sank into the chair across from Felicity, grateful to sit down finally.
“You didn’t have to bring dinner,” Jade said, though she was already reaching for a container of fried rice.
“Yes, I did. When your best friend calls to say she’s returned to town and immediately starts what appears to be a one-woman renovation project, you bring reinforcements.
” Felicity handed her a pair of chopsticks.
“Besides, I figured you might be too stubborn to eat actual meals while you’re busy trying to single-handedly restore this place to its former glory. ”
“I’m not trying to single-handedly—” Jade began, then stopped. “Okay, maybe I am. But someone has to do it.”
“Someone, yes. Just you, not necessarily.” Felicity opened her own container and studied Jade with the shrewd gaze of someone who’d known her since they were teenagers. “So. Boston didn’t work out the way you planned.”
It wasn’t a question. Felicity had always been able to read her like a particularly obvious book.
“That’s one way to put it,” Jade said, stabbing at her fried rice with more force than necessary. “Boston was... a learning experience.”
“Ah. The kind of learning experience that teaches you humility and sends you home with your tail between your legs?”
“Something like that.” Jade sighed, setting down her chopsticks. There was no point in pretending with Felicity. “I thought I had it all figured out. Fancy degree, business plan, connections in the city. I was going to take the world by storm.”
“And instead?”
“Instead, I got chewed up and spit out by the corporate world. Turns out you have to be careful whose food you critique when you’re a professional food critic.”
Felicity nodded sympathetically.
Jade pushed rice around her container, the memories still raw despite the months that had passed. “I burned through my savings, maxed out my credit cards, and was three weeks away from having to move back in with my parents when Mabel called about needing help with the bakery.”
“So this is a rescue mission,” Felicity said gently. “You’re saving each other.”
“Something like that.” Jade looked around the bakery, taking in the gleaming surfaces and the warm light from the display case.
“Though I’m starting to think I might be in over my head here too.
Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace a commercial oven?
Or fix plumbing that’s older than both of us combined? ”
“Sounds expensive.”
“Prohibitively expensive. Which is why I’m learning to do everything myself.” Jade gestured vaguely at the repair list still sitting on the counter, its two pages of problems a constant reminder of the work ahead. “YouTube University, here I come.”
Felicity was quiet for a moment, picking at her sweet and sour chicken with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. “You know,” she said finally, “you’re not the only one who’s been struggling.”
Jade looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in her friend’s tone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this.” Felicity gestured around the bakery, at her bright coat and carefully applied lipstick and the general aura of festive competence she projected.
“This whole ‘successful small business owner with her life together’ thing? It’s about fifty percent real and fifty percent very good marketing. ”
“Speaking of business,” Jade said, grateful for the chance to shift focus away from her own failures, “how’s the decorating going? You must be swamped this time of year.”
Felicity’s bright smile flickered for just a moment. “Oh, you know. Busy season and all that.”
“Come on, Fee. Real talk. How’s it really going?”
Felicity sighed, her carefully maintained cheerfulness deflating slightly.
“Honestly? It’s been better. Half my clients this season are paying me in barter—Mrs. Peterson is giving me piano lessons in exchange for her Christmas mantel, and the Hendersons are trading home-baked bread for their living room makeover.
Don’t get me wrong, I love piano lessons and fresh bread, but they don’t exactly pay the electric bill. ”
“I had no idea,” Jade said softly.
“Because I’m excellent at projecting success,” Felicity replied with a rueful smile. “Just like you were excellent at projecting that Boston was everything you’d dreamed it would be. We’re both very good at pretty lies.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of shared honesty settling between them. Outside, the December afternoon was fading into early evening, and the warm light inside the bakery made it feel like a sanctuary against the growing darkness.
“You know what though?” Felicity said, suddenly straightening up, her eyes brightening as she looked around the bakery. “This place has good bones, but it needs some serious Christmas magic.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean holiday decorating. That’s what I do, remember?
I turn spaces into winter wonderlands.” Felicity was already moving around the room, her decorator’s eye taking in every corner.
“Right now this place looks clean and bright, which is great, but it doesn’t scream ‘Christmas bakery.’ It needs garlands, maybe some fairy lights, definitely a tree in that corner.
Something that makes people feel the holiday spirit the moment they walk in. ”
“Felicity, I can’t afford—”
“Who said anything about afford? Look, I’ll be honest with you.
All my clients right now are residential.
Houses, apartments, the occasional holiday party.
But what I really need to grow my business is commercial work—restaurants, shops, office buildings.
The money’s better, and the exposure is incredible.
” She gestured around the space. “This could be my first commercial portfolio piece. I photograph the transformation, use it to market to other businesses in town and beyond.”
Jade looked around, trying to imagine the bakery transformed into something more festive. “You really think some decorations would make that much difference?”
“Are you kidding? Christmas decorations are retail magic. They make people happy, they make them spend money, and they make them tell their friends about the adorable little bakery that looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.” Felicity was practically bouncing now.
“Plus, with the Tree Lighting ceremony coming up, this place should be the crown jewel of Main Street. People will be walking by all week, taking pictures, posting on social media.”
“That... actually makes a lot of sense.”
“Of course it does. I’m a professional.” Felicity grinned. “So what do you say? Partners? You handle the technical repairs, I handle making this place look like Christmas threw up in here in the very best way possible?”
Jade felt that flutter of hope again. “You’d really want to do that?”
“Honey, I’ve been decorating the same twelve houses in this town for three years.
A commercial project? Even a small one like this?
It’s exactly what I need to take my business to the next level.
” Her eyes were bright with genuine excitement.
“Besides, what’s the point of having a best friend with a bakery if I can’t make it look absolutely magical? ”