Chapter 1 Eva
Present
Valentine’s Day has to be the worst day of the year.
My usually peaceful café is filled with couples making googly eyes at each other while they share heart-shaped donuts filled with vanilla cream.
Monetizing holidays seemed like a good idea, but the more I stand behind the counter quietly judging people, the more I regret my decision to partake in this ridiculous Hallmark holiday.
I close my eyes briefly, remembering my vision board and all the things I wanted to achieve this year, many of which involve money. Money that customers spend in my café.
It’s been a slow season due to unprecedented snowstorms blanketing the town and roads, and the usual tourism trade is down this year compared to last. Many of the businesses in Cinnamon Springs are hustling to make ends meet.
Hence my idea to make a splash today.
A man sitting opposite his lady friend lifts the heart-shaped donut to her mouth, and she giggles before taking a bite. She follows by licking her lips, and I swear on all unholy gods, this is the beginning of an incredibly poorly acted porno movie.
I hear cheesy music playing in my head, and it’s far from romantic.
“When did I become so cynical?” I ask mindlessly while Billie stands beside me, carefully restocking the glass display with fresh cinnamon twists.
The warm, spicy and sweet smell is by far my favorite.
It reminds me of my childhood, when my mom would make donuts for us every Friday after school.
“All these people look so…” I trail off, unable to find the words.
“In love?” Billie laughs, closing the display to avoid any uninvited visitors. Given that we live in a small town surrounded by woods, pesky little suckers love our sweet treats. “I love this day. There’s something in the air—”
“Denial?” I cut her off.
Billie places the tongs back and then rests her hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to start dating again. When was the last time you went on a real date?”
I scrunch my nose. Dating is not on my vision board and therefore isn’t something I’m actively pursuing.
The last guy, Henry, was, um… nice.
That’s just it— nice .
He would politely open the door, pull out my chair, and do everything to show he respected women.
But, when it came to conversation, he was the single most boring person I have ever had the misfortune of dining with.
I almost fell asleep during our second dinner date from all the wine I drank just so I could power through.
“Months, maybe. I’ve stopped counting,” I mumble, finally answering her question.
“So, what you’re trying to say is you’re not getting laid, hence the attitude today?”
Billie is as laid-back as they come. We met in college when she was assigned to my room at the last minute.
Maddy had been so indecisive about joining me at Cornell—she’d always wanted to study in California.
It boiled down to this—separation anxiety.
So, after many tears from Maddy and lots of reassurance from me that we would still be best friends, we took the leap and went our separate ways, so to speak.
Insert me, an empty dorm room, and Billie, who coincidentally grew up just a couple of towns over from Cinnamon Springs.
I warmed up to her quickly. She loved to bake, and so did I, even though I wasn’t as good as Billie, so our room was filled with all sorts of mini appliances as we experimented with different recipes.
We quickly became the hit of the building, especially with the late-night-munchies crowd—though we did get a few warnings for pushing the limits of the fire code.
Thankfully, nothing ever burned down—though I am pretty sure the fire warden developed a nervous twitch.
With our love of baking and my business degree, it was a no-brainer—we set out to open our own café, Donuts Ever After.
We put together a business plan and went to the bank for a loan after graduating from Cornell, but then Billie’s mom was diagnosed with a rare heart disease and needed immediate medical treatment.
It meant Billie had to move back home to care for her mom physically and financially.
Our dream was put on hold.
But as if the universe knew we needed a lucky break, my parents decided to sell a piece of land they owned in Wyoming and gifted me and my brother a share of the profits.
It was enough to start the café and hire Billie as a baker.
It suited us both. She didn’t need the added pressure of investing in a business, especially with her mother’s medical bills piling up, and I needed her because she was a superstar in the kitchen.
Without her recipes, we would have served only coffee and iced tea.
Sure, I could bake, but no way was I as good as Billie.
The perfect place presented itself—Cinnamon Springs, where I spent most of my teenage years. It never occurred to me to go back, given I’d moved away for college.
My parents have always enjoyed being on the road.
Growing up, we moved every few years, somehow making a journey across the country until one day my dad heard about this town that needed a horticulturist to focus on crop cultivation.
It was kind of perfect in the end. Dad settled into a job he loved, and Mom worked the farmers markets every week.
They would sell organic fruits and vegetables from our property, and quite often, Mom would bake cookies to give to the kids who accompanied their parents.
We moved to Cinnamon Springs when I started middle school. Of course, it didn’t take long for my parents to get itchy feet again. After a lot of tears and begging, they agreed to stick it out until I finished high school.
Since then, my parents moved and my brother left for Europe, but something always pulls me back here.
I’m not even mad about it. The moment my parents drove down Main Street all those years ago, I knew this place had something special.
I still remember gazing out the window and admiring all the cute little storefronts.
It looked like a movie set. Cinnamon Cones, home of the best ice cream in town; Betty’s Bookshelf, the most popular bookstore within a twenty-mile radius; and the diner on the corner called Happy Days.
Later, I learned it was owned by a couple who, no surprise, were obsessed with the TV show Happy Days .
The husband, Al, even wore a leather jacket and styled his hair like Fonzie.
Mom had to explain about the TV show since it aired well before my time—and when I say well before , I mean decades.
It all feels like a lifetime ago now.
Bringing myself back to the present, I turn to Billie with a grin. “A girl can please herself,” I remind her.
“Sure, but a hot guy can do it better.”
I purse my lips, crossing my arms beneath my chest. “And where are the hot guys?”
Billie shrugs. “Not in this town, that’s for damn sure.”
We both find ourselves in this sudden slump, thanks to me.
Billie is a beautiful woman, so it surprises me she’s single.
Guys always lavish attention on her. It’s the ginger-colored hair, which falls effortlessly down her back like she’s a modern-day Rapunzel, but instead of being trapped in a tower, she works for a grump in a donut shop.
That grump being me.
I’m not usually a pessimist, but this winter feels different.
And not necessarily in a good way. The picturesque snow only reminds me of the wet puddles customers drag into the store.
The hot chocolate I usually devour tastes too sweet, especially when you add marshmallows.
And everyone knows they’re the best part.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. It’s almost like all my dreams have been put on hold for no other reason but time. It gets away from me and refuses to stand still so I can just have a moment to breathe.
All this and it’s only February. The hype of New Year’s resolutions is fading into the distance along with my love of this cold season.
A chair creaks, and my attention shifts back to the couple. The guy leans in, whispers something into the woman’s ear before she giggles again and runs her high-heeled shoe up his leg.
“You need to stop them,” I warn Billie, cringing involuntarily. “I think she might give him a foot job, and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight if she does.”
“Why me? You’re the owner,” Billie complains. “We had a deal. I make the yummy desserts, and you handle customers doing foot jobs in the store.”
I let out a huff. “I don’t recall this agreement. However, I will put an end to this for the sake of not having to bleach our brains.”
I take a deep breath and approach the couple’s table. They instantly pull away from each other when they realize I’m standing beside them.
A forced smile graces my lips as I ask, “Is there anything else I can get you lovebirds today?”
The woman’s cheeks turn crimson. “We, um… are fine. The donuts are delicious.”
“Yes,” the man adds, clearing his throat.
“Would we be able to purchase a box to take with us? We could have them for dessert tonight.” He glances at the woman with what I assume is supposed to be a sexy grin, making this all the more cringey.
The longer I stand here, the harder it is to control the urge to shudder.
“Of course, I’ll get them packaged up and brought right over.”
As I walk back to the counter, Billie tries to hide her laughter.
I pinch her arm the moment I reach her. “Gross, they’re going to have sex and use our donuts in their dirty games,” I whisper.
“Okay, stop! I will deal with them because I love you so much,” Billie offers with a teasing grin, then nods over my shoulder. “Besides, you have a visitor.”