Chapter 8 #2
Marcus: heard you're going with Lucy to meet the developer. that's very boyfriend of you
Jake: I'm being supportive. That's what friends do.
Marcus: "friends" sure. that's why you haven't stopped smiling since Monday night
Jake: I smile sometimes.
Marcus: you literally never smile. now you smile constantly. it's creepy and also adorable
Jake: Shouldn't you be at practice?
Marcus: On a break. Tommy's giving us a lecture about defensive positioning. Anyway - good luck today. Lucy's lucky to have you.
Jake: I'm lucky to have her.
Marcus: awwww Reaper has FEELINGS
Jake: I'm blocking your number.
Marcus: no you're not. you love me
Jake pocketed his phone, smiling despite himself. He grabbed his jacket and headed downstairs.
The Bread Basket was busy with the afternoon rush—high school kids getting after-school snacks, people grabbing coffee before evening errands. Mae was at the register, Lucy was behind the counter, both of them moving with practiced efficiency.
Lucy looked up when Jake entered. Her smile was nervous but genuine.
"Hey. Give me five minutes?"
"Take your time."
Jake settled at one of the small tables and watched Lucy work. She moved through the bakery with such confidence—chatting with customers, making recommendations, handling three orders at once without breaking a sweat. This was her element. Her grandmother's legacy made visible.
Was she really ready to give this up?
At 1:30, Lucy emerged from the back wearing a navy blue blazer over her usual jeans and t-shirt. She'd put on makeup and done something with her hair that made it look professional instead of flour-dusted.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Ready. You look great, by the way."
"I look terrified."
"You look professional and capable and ready to make a big decision."
"Fake it till you make it?"
"Something like that."
They walked to Giuseppe's together. Shayna Barrett was already there—mid-thirties, sharp suit, laptop open on the table. She stood when they approached.
"Lucy Chen. Thank you for meeting with me."
"Of course. This is Jake Morrison. I hope it's okay that he's here—"
"Absolutely. The more perspectives the better." Shayna shook both their hands and gestured to the chairs. "Shall we?"
They sat. Giuseppe appeared immediately with coffee and then—thankfully—left them alone.
Shayna pulled out a tablet and slid it toward Lucy.
"I'll get straight to the point. My company, Barrett Development, specializes in preserving and expanding local businesses in small towns.
We're not interested in coming in and gutting what makes a place special—we want to honor it while helping it grow. "
"What does that mean specifically for The Bread Basket?" Lucy asked.
"We've been watching your business for about six months. Your grandmother built something remarkable—a true community institution. Your food is excellent, your customer base is loyal, and your reputation extends beyond Timber Falls. We think there's potential to expand."
"Expand how?"
Shayna pulled up images on her tablet. "We'd keep The Bread Basket as the flagship location, preserving the name, the core recipes, the atmosphere. But we'd also open two additional locations—one in Burlington, one in Stowe. Tourist areas where your brand would thrive."
Lucy was quiet, studying the images.
"We'd also modernize operations," Shayna continued. "Better equipment, professional staff, maybe a small wholesale operation for regional grocery stores. Your grandmother's recipes would remain at the heart of everything—we'd work with you to document them, preserve them, share them."
"Work with me?" Lucy looked up. "I thought you were buying the business."
"We are. But we'd want you involved in the expansion. As a consultant, or potentially as the director of recipe development. You'd have creative control over the products while we handle the business operations and scaling."
Jake watched Lucy's face. She was listening carefully, asking questions, but he could see the tension in her shoulders.
"What's the offer?" Lucy asked finally.
Shayna named a number. Jake felt his eyebrows rise—it was substantial. Enough to pay off any debts, fund culinary school, travel for years. Enough to give Lucy complete freedom.
"That includes the property, the business, your existing equipment, and your grandmother's documented recipes," Shayna said. "We'd also offer you a three-year consulting contract at a significant annual salary if you wanted to stay involved."
"And if I wanted to walk away completely? Just take the money and go?"
"That's also an option. We'd prefer your involvement, but we understand if you need a clean break."
Lucy was quiet for a long moment. Jake wanted to reach across and take her hand but didn't want to interrupt her process.
"Can I think about it?" Lucy asked.
"Absolutely. I'd need an answer within two weeks—we're looking at other properties as well.
But take your time. This is a big decision.
" Shayna pulled out a business card. "Call me with any questions.
And Lucy? Whatever you decide, I hope you know what an incredible legacy your grandmother left.
What you've built over the past five years is remarkable. "
After Shayna left, Lucy and Jake sat in silence. Giuseppe brought them more coffee without being asked, then discretely disappeared.
"That was a lot," Lucy said finally.
"Yeah."
"She wants to expand. Turn The Bread Basket into a regional brand."
"Is that what you want?"
"I don't know. Part of me is thrilled—my grandmother's recipes reaching more people, her legacy growing instead of just being preserved. Part of me is horrified—what if they change things? What if they mess it up? What if I regret it?"
"Those are all valid concerns."
Lucy looked at him. "What do you think I should do?"
"I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Not what honors your grandmother's memory, not what the town expects, not what makes logical sense. Whatever makes you happy."
"I don't know what makes me happy anymore. I've spent five years equating happiness with keeping everything the same."
"Then maybe it's time to find out. You have two weeks to decide. You don't have to figure it all out today."
Lucy nodded, but Jake could see her mind spinning.
They walked back to the bakery in silence. At the door, Lucy turned to him.
"Thank you. For coming with me. For not telling me what to do."
"This is your decision, Lucy. I'm just here to support you."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Always."
"Are you free tonight? I don't want to be alone right now. I just want to—I don't know. Exist with someone who isn't going to ask me about the bakery or tell me what I should do."
"I'm free. Want to come over? We can order pizza and watch terrible TV."
"That sounds perfect."
Lucy spent the rest of Thursday afternoon in a daze.
The bakery was busy, which was good—it kept her hands occupied. But her mind wouldn't stop spinning through what Shayna had said. Expansion. Consulting. Her grandmother's recipes going regional. Enough money to travel, to go to culinary school, to start over.
Or she could walk away completely. Take the money and run. Leave Timber Falls, leave the bakery, leave everything she'd known for the past five years.
At 6 PM, Mae finally kicked her out.
"You're going to burn something if you stay here. Go. Be with Jake. Stop thinking."
"I can't stop thinking."
"Then go think somewhere else. With someone who makes you feel better."
Lucy grabbed her coat and walked the three blocks to Jake's building. She'd memorized the route this week—three years of not knowing where he lived, and now she could walk there with her eyes closed.
She knocked on his apartment door at 6:15. Jake answered immediately, like he'd been waiting by the door.
"Hey."
"Hey."
He pulled her inside and wrapped her in a hug. Lucy let herself sink into it, breathing in his familiar scent—soap and laundry detergent and something indefinably Jake.
"I ordered pizza," Jake said into her hair. "Extra cheese, no weird toppings. Should be here in twenty minutes."
"You're perfect."
"I'm really not. But I'm trying."
They settled on Jake's couch. Lucy kicked off her shoes and curled into his side, and Jake pulled a blanket over both of them.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked.
"Not yet. Can we just... not talk for a little while?"
"We can absolutely not talk."
Jake turned on the TV—some cooking competition show that Lucy found oddly soothing. Watching other people stress about food was somehow less stressful than dealing with her own decisions.
The pizza arrived. They ate on the couch, watching terrible television, not talking about the bakery or Shayna's offer or the future. Just existing together.
Around 8 PM, Lucy finally broke the silence.
"I want to take the offer."
Jake paused the TV. "Yeah?"
"I think so. The money is good, obviously. But it's more than that. Shayna wants to expand my grandmother's legacy. She wants to share those recipes with more people. That's what my grandmother would have wanted—her food feeding as many people as possible."
"But?"
"But I'm scared. What if I take the money and travel and go to culinary school and realize I'm not actually that good? What if I was only good in the context of Timber Falls, with my grandmother's recipes? What if I'm not talented enough to make it on my own?"
Jake set down his pizza and turned to face her fully. "Lucy. Listen to me. You are incredibly talented. I've been eating your food for three years and every single thing you make is perfection. That's not your grandmother's recipes—that's your skill, your care, your talent."
"How do you know? You've only ever had my grandmother's recipes."
"Have I? The butternut squash muffins on Sunday—were those exactly her recipe?"
Lucy thought about it. "No. I adjusted the proportions. Added a bit more maple, less sage than she used."