Chapter 15 Chance
Chance
By Sunday evening, the world had shrunk to the bakery, the oven, and me.
Sweet Dragon was silent, except for the ticking wall clock and whatever mix of cinnamon and yeast had glued itself into the walls.
I had the routine down to muscle memory.
Strip the racks, sweep the flour, box yesterday's loaves for the food pantry.
Every motion was supposed to be boring, but tonight, every second crawled by.
Because in the back pocket of my jeans, my phone waited. My whole body was primed for that little sound, like a dog with a single neuron dedicated to "text alert." Waiting to hear from Tash wasn't just nerves, it was like waiting for the ground to start shaking after you see the lightning hit.
I'd just sent a text to Tash, replying to her, offering a meeting Monday evening.
I yanked the last rye out of the oven, flipped it onto the cooling rack, and savored the scent for maybe half a breath before my phone went off again.
My hands jerked. I wiped them on my apron and checked the screen.
The message was simple.
Tuesday evening okay instead? Monday is town hall about SkyArc, I'm speaking. LMK?
My heart kicked so hard I nearly dropped the phone.
Caden went absolutely feral inside me. He punched a victory lap through my ribcage, singing some song about hatchlings, mate, now, over and over, louder than the oven fan.
I didn't even try to play it cool. I thumbed the call button so fast it nearly slipped from my grip.
Tash answered on the second ring. "Hey," she started, but her voice was tight, brittle with nerves.
"Hey! Sorry. Didn't mean to, uh, bother you. It's just, uh, good to hear from you." I was already off-balance, every word tumbling out half-formed.
She let out a little laugh, caught between awkward and relieved. "No, it's fine. I didn't want to bug you while you were working." God, the sound of her laugh. It slid under my ribs before I could brace for it.
"Not a bug at all. I was, honestly, you saved me from counting Danishes." I wiped a hand over my neck, fighting the urge to pace. "Tuesday's perfect. Six work for you?"
Her exhale was pure nerves. "Yeah, I mean, yes. It gives the girls time to, you know, brace."
I pictured her then. Probably standing in her kitchen, jaw set, phone gripped like a lifeline. The sound of her voice, turned inside-out with nerves, made my skin itch.
For a breath, neither of us could land the next sentence.
Caden growled. Fix it. Say something real.
"So the town hall thing," I fumbled for words. "You're speaking? About SkyArc?"
"That's the plan. Mostly water quality, but," She hesitated, then dropped her voice, "I hear higher-ups from SkyArc will be there in person. I kind of want to see who I'm up against."
Before I could answer, there was a muffled shout somewhere in the bakery. It came from the front, loaded with hellfire.
I recognized it immediately. Maeve.
The door banged so hard the display jars rattled. "Chance!" Her voice shook the ceiling tile. "You need to get out here, right now!"
Tash heard. "Everything okay?"
"I'll call you back," I said with no hesitation. "Sorry, just, something at the shop. I'll text you the address for Tuesday. Promise."
I stabbed "end call" with my thumb and tossed the phone onto the prep counter.
Maeve barreled into the kitchen like she'd just lost a fight with a tornado. She was red-faced, apron askew, and she pointed out the window with a trembling hand. "They're ruining it! Those bastards are wrecking my whole border! And ignoring me! Get out there and stop that meathead, right now!"
Her hair was half out of its bun, and her hands shook. Whether from rage or adrenaline, I couldn't tell. The wild look in her eyes meant this was not minor. This was Defcon One.
I yanked off my apron and followed her through the entry. The minute I stepped outside, the air hit me like a slap. Cool, damp, but already burned with the stink of diesel and wet dirt.
That's when I saw it.
The lot that lined Main Street was chaos. Where Maeve's flower beds had lived with tulips, cosmos, and some kind of magical seasoning that kept normal bugs away, there was now a mud pit. Grass torn up, the soil churned deep, and a matte-black landscaping truck with the SkyArc stamp across the door.
Two men in matching polos were hauling out saplings and bags of chemically juiced fertilizer.
A giant auger punched fresh holes into the ground, chewing through the last of the roots with brutal efficiency.
Another guy in an orange vest was dragging up the old boundary posts and tossing them onto the pile like garbage.
The nerve. My vision went sharp as glass.
Standing in the middle of all this was the foreman. The only one not rushing. He leaned against a steel fence post, clipboard tucked under one arm, and watched the carnage like it was a fireworks show.
William Hanlon. I recognized him instantly. He clocked me the second I stepped out but didn't flinch. He just nodded, spun the clipboard, and bit down hard on a stick of gum.
Even from twenty feet away, the mint hit me like a chemical warhead.
Caden's hackles shot up so fast I thought I'd burst straight out of my shoes.
I stormed across the gravel, ignoring the way the ground squished under every step. Maeve trailed, muttering death threats under her breath.
"Hey!" I barked, loud enough that every worker's head snapped up at once. "Who told you to touch these beds? This is private property."
William didn't even blink. He eased away from the post, casual as can be, and gave the mud pit a lazy scan.
"Relax. We've got a work order." He flipped a page on the clipboard, and didn't bother reading it.
"SkyArc just picked up the old Hudson place next door.
They scheduled landscaping and drainage fixes.
Looks like your beds were over the line. "
I pointed, jabbing the air with a finger so hard my knuckle cracked. "There's a marker, right there. See it? That's the lot line. These beds are on bakery property. You're way over."
He shrugged, not even bothering to hide the smirk. "It's just dirt, buddy. We'll fix it later if it matters so much. Chill out."
My blood went volcanic.
Caden howled inside, all claws and fangs, a single word pulsing louder than my own heartbeat. Ours.
Maeve was vibrating. She hissed, "You'll fix it now, you—" but I cut her off with a raised hand.
I stepped closer to William, my boots grinding over the shattered stones. The heat in my chest threatened to catch the air on fire. With every breath, the stink of mint-laced gum, cologne, whatever the hell the guy had bathed in, made my eyes water.
He didn't back off, but something flickered behind his smile. Maybe he'd finally noticed I wasn't just another bakery guy.
I dropped my voice. Low, flat, murderously cold. "You've got one shot to put it right. Replace every missing leaf, then get your crew off my land. Then you can redraw your lines somewhere else."
William spread his hands, a mock gesture of innocence. "Don't get bent outta shape. It's the first day on the job for this team. Our survey crew probably marked the wrong spot. We'll dial it back."
I didn't move. If anything, the silence got heavier. "You heard me."
He cracked his gum, spinning the wad with his tongue, and the cloying edge of mint got even stronger.
My temperature spiked. I could feel it, my skin prickling, sweat beading down my back even in the chill. Caden pushed forward, teeth bared, ready to roar.
The gravel under my boots actually popped, a sound like someone twisting bubble wrap. For a heartbeat, time hung in the air, molasses slow. William's smile faltered, just a bit, but then he pasted it back, glancing at his crew for backup.
None of them moved.
The nearest guy, the one with the shovel, had eyes like dinner plates. He gripped the handle tight, staring at me like he'd just realized the rules of the universe could change.
William tried to lean into his swagger again, but now his jaw was set, lips tight around the gum. He shifted, just enough to give ground.
I stepped up, close enough that he had to tip his chin up to look me in the eye.
I said it, slow and clear, every syllable heavy as stone, "If I see another inch of bakery land torn up by SkyArc, I'll pull your trucks out myself. Are you catching me?"
His face, for one beautiful second, lost every ounce of confidence. He swallowed, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and nodded. "Yeah. Got it. It's your lot. Honest mistake."
Caden wasn't satisfied, but a little of the pressure bled off.
Still, the taste of mint was burning my tongue. It was like poison.
Behind me, Maeve radiated satisfaction. She glared daggers at the crew, who had finally dropped into full retreat mode.
I stepped back, never breaking eye contact. "Move your stuff," I snapped. "Fix what you ruined. And next time, knock first."
William stammered out a "Sure thing." He spun on his heel and started barking orders at the crew.
The workers scrambled, suddenly twice as fast as before.
Shovels flew, equipment zipped back into the truck beds, and the orange-vested guy actually tripped over the old boundary marker trying to replant it upright.
I counted every man, every pair of eyes locked on the ground, desperate not to risk another second of my attention.
I let them go. It was almost funny, how the balance of power had turned to solid rock in a single heartbeat.
All that was left in the aftermath was the stench of mint, the churned mess of what used to be a flower bed, and the unmistakable sense that, for now, the bakery was back under my protection.
But I knew better. This wasn't a mistake. This was a test, plain and simple.
Caden muttered, They wanted to see what you'd do. See if you'd fold.
I gritted my teeth, watching the last SkyArc truck lurch out of the lot, tailpipe belching. William never glanced back.
When the engine sounds died and the mud had settled, I unclenched my fists.
Maeve was behind me, huffing. "You showed them," she said, voice sharp. "Next time they come back, I'm setting their underwear on fire."
I almost laughed. The adrenaline was shaking my fingers, and my head ached with leftover fury.
"Go inside, Maeve. I'll take care of the rest," I murmured. She stomped off, but not before shooting the empty parking lot one last death glare.
I wiped my palms on my work pants then pulled my phone from my apron.
My fingers still trembled with adrenaline, but I managed to get the message out.
Tuesday, 6 p.m. at my house?
The reply was instant, like she'd been waiting with her own nerves all wound up.
See you then.
I sent the address, triple-checking for typos.
With that done, I headed for the door, taking one last look at the bakery sign overhead. The dragon curled around a cupcake, grinning at the chaos.
Inside, the world slipped back to normal. But my brain was already racing. I'd skip the town hall. There was no need to spook Tash or the girls. Instead, I'd have Maeve go just to keep an eye on things.
I locked the bakery, watched the street for another full minute, and waited for my pulse to settle.
Caden paced, prowled, and whispered. Not over. Not even close.