Chapter 2
2
LOTTIE
W ith Liam’s hand safely in mine, we walk across the town square. Even though my day hasn’t gone entirely according to plan, I’m determined to make the rest go as well as possible.
Starting with a little boost.
Rather than head straight for our home on Third Street, I angle us west toward Busy Street for a little detour past the bakery.
My bakery.
Well, right now, it’s an empty space with a FOR SALE sign on it, but soon, it’ll be mine.
Just a little longer. Just a little bit more money and I’ll finally afford it. I can quit the diner. No more long hours waitressing, serving food for tips. I’ll be my own boss, sell my own creations.
My dream come true.
We round the corner onto Busy Street and I stop at the ice cream shop on the corner to get Liam a vanilla cone, his smile nearly enough to make me forget all about his worthless father.
Almost.
Still, I shake it off, and we continue on our way. We pass the bookstore and the coffee shop. All this block needs now is a bakery.
I breathe in that dream again.
Everything is coming up Lot…
I slow our steps as we reach the empty storefront.
Except, it’s not empty anymore.
It’s... SOLD.
“No,” I say.
“Mommy?” Liam asks, looking up curiously.
“It’s, uh... it’s okay, Liam. It’s fine. It must be some kind of mistake,” I say, mostly to myself.
It’s sold?
Frank sold it?
But...
Through the glass, I spot Frank exiting the back room, his face showing a satisfied smile.
I walk up to the door and knock.
Frank sees me through the windows and his cashmere sweater-clad shoulders sink.
“Frank!” I bang again on the glass. “I know you see me, Frank!”
He walks over and unlocks the door. “Hi, Lottie,” he greets, then bows his head at Liam beside me. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hi,” Liam says, most of his focus on his ice cream cone.
“Hi,” I say. “Sold?”
He raises his hand cautiously. “Now, Lottie?—”
“Sold?!”
“I realize you might be a little upset right now.”
“Might be upset? Frank, you promised me this space!”
“Hold on a sec,” he says. “I didn’t promise you anything. I said I’d hold off as long as I could — and I did.”
“No. No, you didn’t. Because if you had, I’d be holding the keys to my new bakery right now.”
“Well, do you have the money now?” he asks.
I hesitate. “No. But I’m so close, Frank. So close. Just another week. Two weeks. That’s all!”
“I’m sorry, Lottie,” he says, gently. “But summer’s coming.”
“I know that.”
“I’ve got bills to pay, same as you.”
“I know that, too. But?—”
“And this guy came in with cash,” Frank says. “What was I supposed to do?”
“What guy?” I ask.
He leans back. “I’m not telling.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve got that look in your eye.”
“What look?”
“Like you’re gonna cast a spell on him or something.”
“Frank.” I tilt my head. I smile. “Frankie. Buddy.”
“Yeah, that’s not helping you,” he says.
“How long have we been friends?” I ask.
“Never.”
“Well, how long have we known each other? Hm? I mean, we grew up together, didn’t we?”
“I’m ten years old than you,” he says, confused.
I stomp my heel. “Frank.”
“Lottie.”
I throw on a Hail Mary pout. “Please?”
“I’m sorry, Lottie,” he says again, his eyes full of compassion. “But he already signed.”
Behind him, a man steps out of the back. He’s tall with broad shoulders, wearing a button down white shirt tucked into a pair of black pants that show off his slender waist. He looks around the empty space and I see the ideas forming behind his eyes. Ideas for my bakery.
My eye twitches. “Is that the guy?” I ask Frank.
“... No,” he says.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, that’s my... partner.”
“Your partner?”
“New partner. Yeah. He’s new.”
“You and Jimmy break up?”
“Yup,” he says, full of bullshit. “It’s been a rough spring.”
I roll my eyes. “Excuse me!”
The mystery guy looks over questionably.
“Lottie, be nice,” Frank warns.
I push past Frank through the door, taking Liam with me inside. “Excuse me!” I say. “Hi! Hello.”
The guy pauses, his brown eyes looking me over. “Hello.”
I stop in front of him and smile; an easy thing to do, honestly. He’s admittedly handsome, with thick brownish-black hair and a stiff jawline nice enough to chew on.
But there are more important matters at hand.
“Hi,” I say while extending my hand. “I’m Lottie. Lottie Linney.”
“Hello, Lottie Linney,” he says, shaking my hand. “I’m Scott.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Scott.”
“Smolders,” he says. “Scott’s my first name.”
“Oh, well, that’s… fitting,” I say beneath his stunning brown eyes. Clearing my throat, I shake it off and stand tall. “So, this is my bakery.”
“What?” he asks.
“Yeah. This space. The one you’re standing in. It’s mine. Frank here promised it to me?—”
“No, I didn’t!” Frank says behind me.
I ignore him. “And I’m going to buy it soon. So, um…” I bat my eyelashes. “You can’t.”
“I can’t what?”
“Buy it.”
“But I did.” He raises his hand, revealing the keys in his palm. “See?”
“Yeah, well, that was a mistake,” I say. “A mistake easily rectified by you handing me those keys and… leaving.”
The man blinks, a smile forming on his lips. “Is that right?”
I lay a hand on my chest. “I know. It’s so embarrassing, but you know Frank. Well, I know Frank. And he’s been going through a really rough spring, so…” I sigh. “It’s just one of those things, you know. Innocent mistake.”
“I see.”
“So, then, we all agree this sale today never happened?” I say.
“No.”
My smile drops. “No?”
“No, that’s not gonna work for me,” he says.
“What part doesn’t work for you?”
“The whole thing.”
“Why not?” I ask through my teeth.
“Because I came here today to buy this space. And then I did. And… now I own it.” He jingles the keys in his palm. “I paid the money. I signed the papers. So, ma’am, I’m sorry you didn’t get here first, but?—”
“Sir. Mr. Scott.”
“Smolders,” he corrects.
I hold my breath tightly. “I’m a local. I was born and raised here in Small Town.”
“Congratulations,” he says through his smirk.
“I know what the people of this town want and what they want is a bakery. My bakery. The one that I am going to open here,” I say, pointing at the floor.
“No,” he says. “The one you were going to open here. I’m sure the folks of Small Town would love a bakery, but it’s not going to be here, honey.”
A bolt of anger strikes deep as he says honey , but I keep it bottled up.
Instead, I smile. Time for a new tactic.
“Sir...” I say.
“Ma’am?” he replies.
“You wouldn’t crush a young mother’s dreams in front of her child, would you?” I ask.
He glances at Liam for a second, then hops his eyes back to me. “I would, actually,” he says.
I drop my smile again, sinking it into a sneer. “You would?”
“Honestly, Lottie, you sound really entitled.”
“Entitled?”
“You should work on being a better role model for your son instead of harassing innocent businessmen when you don’t get what you want.”
My eye twitches. “First of all, I’m a great role model for my son. I’m a strong, independent woman, and I’ve worked hard for everything I have.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” He leans forward. “I’m still not leaving.”
I seethe. “You know, the last thing Small Town needs is another man like you.”
He crosses his thick arms, amused. “A man like me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “You Big City rich guys are always rolling through here, taking whatever you want. But let me tell you something...”
I pause, my words failing.
He tilts forward an inch, his handsome brown eyes practically dancing now. “I’m waiting.”
“I...” I stutter. “We Smalltowners stick together. One word from me and no one’s gonna come to your...” I glance around the space. “What is this gonna be?”
“A barbershop,” he says.
“A barbershop?”
“Yeah.”
“You cut hair?”
“Yes.”
I scoff. “Who would open a barbershop here? We don’t need a barbershop! We already have a barbershop.” I spin toward Frank. “Don’t we?”
“No,” he answers.
“Don’t we?” I ask again, expecting a different answer.
“No.”
I deepen my glare, then spin forward where the man’s smirk has morphed into a full, shit-eating grin. “This location is way too big for a barbershop,” I argue. “What do you need? Three chairs and a cash register?”
“You’re pretty cute when you’re angry,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you single?”
I step back, my gut twisting with disgust as my spine tickles from his attention. “This is a mistake,” I say. “You’re going to regret this.”
He winks at me. “I’m sure I will.”
“Come on, Liam,” I say, giving his hand a light tug. “We’re going home.”
“Bye-bye, Liam!” he says, waving.
“Don’t talk to my kid,” I spit over my shoulder.
Frank shuffles over to open the door for me and I hit him with another harsh glare instead of thanking him.
“Sorry, Lottie,” he whispers as I pass.
Pfft. I’m sure you are, Frank.
“Mommy?” Liam says, his little voice full of concern.
”I’m fine, baby,” I say as we reach the sidewalk. I give his hand a squeeze as my heart breaks in my chest. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“Everything is going to be fine,” I repeat as I stare into my oven, watching as the blueberry mini muffins rise in the pan. “Everything is coming up Lottie!”
Liam is currently lounging on the living room couch with the television and a snack while I bake and keep telling myself that everything is going to be fine.
We still have our health. Our house. Our friends. Each other.
Just… not the bakery.
Because Small Town is getting… a barbershop instead.
A fucking barbershop?
I’m not sure what hurts more. That I lost my precious bakery, or that that smoldering douche-nozzle is putting in a barbershop instead.
But I won’t sink into despair!
This day isn’t over yet!
There’s still the potential man of my dreams waiting for me across the street.
Only the movers were there when we arrived home earlier. I was busy doing laundry when the car arrived shortly after four, so I missed the first sighting of him. I’ve been watching the house through the kitchen windows like a hawk ever since, just waiting to see the hot new single dad in the flesh.
But if he’s not coming out… then I’m going in!
The timer goes off on the stove. I yank out the tray of mini muffins and set them on top, taking a moment to breathe in that fresh-baked scent.
While they cool, I check in on Liam and rush into my room to throw on a sundress. My favorite sundress, white with bright yellow daisies, that make my green eyes pop. I fluff up my reddish-brown hair, taking the blow dryer to it to give it a nice windswept look. A little blush and some lipstick and I’m ready to meet my future husband.
“Liam,” I say as I return to the living room. “It’s time.”
I quickly and carefully stack the mini muffins in a basket and away we go.
Close to sunset, the sky above Kiss County is a beautiful shade of violet — a good omen. Not a cloud in the sky. A light spring breeze in the air.
It’s a wonderful night to fall in love.
“Take my hand,” I say, offering it to Liam before we cross the street together.
As we reach the sidewalk and travel up the driveway toward the house, I catch the curtains of Pam Palmdale’s kitchen windows next door shift slightly.
Yeah!
That’s right, Pam!
I’m bringing the muffins!
We step up onto the porch. I stop, adjusting the sleeve on Liam’s shirt and giving myself another once over before ringing the doorbell.
I stand up tall. I wet my lips and smile.
Everything’s coming up?—
The door opens.
No.
My smile drops.
No. Not him.
Anyone but him.