Chapter 2
Chapter Two
CHELSEA
I didn’t tell Brad the truth because, frankly, I don’t need another person looking at me with sympathetic eyes.
I couldn’t even tell him the truth about the bakery going up for sale, but he’ll know soon.
Brad doesn’t sell commercial properties, but he knows everyone in this business.
He’ll encourage me to try and buy it because we both know renting is fine for a while, but it’s not a long-term goal for me.
It would make sense to buy the building that houses Sweet Confetti, my beloved bakery, and the adjoining apartment above it.
Gah, I can’t even. I know I take the bakery name with me, it’s my LLC, but the building itself?
I’ve put so much time and money into this iconic place, it’s a landmark now on Starmark Blvd.
People come from far and wide to buy my goods.
It’s not just a bakery, it’s where people come to mingle, mix and be.
That’s the whole reason I went to the bank first thing; to see about a loan.
Unfortunately, that isn’t gonna happen, at least not for the amount I would need.
I was so excited when I first got the call from my best friend, Beatrix.
Her friend of a friend found out the owners were selling up, and Bea suggested I start talking to the bank early.
So that’s what I did. I have all my finances up to date, and the bakery turns a profit.
I also live upstairs, so that saves on rent, but apparently I don’t have enough savings, nor do I have enough ‘equity’.
I’m also at a higher risk of defaulting because the rumor is they want over a million dollars for the property, and that’s way more than I pay in rent.
Admittedly, my face fell when I heard that startling piece of information.
I thought the astronomical monthly rent I’m paying evened out the playing field.
Not according to the bank. Apparently, that’s high risk, too.
Plus, I’m a single working mom, and let’s face it, the bank never seems to like that when you’re going for a loan.
Yep, it was all doom and gloom. I left the meeting feeling deflated and, well, a little pathetic, truth be told.
My business goal is to expand gradually and get more helpers so I can supervise more and concentrate on specialty cakes.
I can’t do all the things I want right away because that costs money.
Money I clearly don’t have. Not to mention the sale, and inevitably me leaving, is going to set me back thousands of dollars moving my premises to a new place.
I mean, what are the chances I’ll find an apartment to live in above the shop?
Those are like finding gold around here.
I wipe my eyes before I head in the back, hoping to head upstairs to my apartment before I run into my mom.
She’ll only have questions, and my eyes are always puffy after I cry.
Poor Brad having to see me like that. I don’t think he bought the allergy story, but he was uncomfortable enough to leave me be.
Usually when women cry, men run a mile, and today I’m thankful for that.
I do not, however, expect a text as I’m sneaking in the back door.
Brad
Hey, I just wanted to check that you’re okay? I felt bad leaving. Do you have some antihistamines?
Oh, god. Now I’m lying to my best friend.
Guilt washes over me. Bradley Lucas is a good man, no, he’s a great man.
Tall, dark and handsome. The playboy of LA.
He’s a conundrum; completely polished, but also kinda rough around the edges.
Clearly, he’s ruggedly handsome, has ridiculous hero hair, and those cobalt, steel-blue eyes and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles?
Swoon. Not that I swoon over him. Nope. He’s my best friend.
That’s it. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit he is a good-looking guy.
Brad is also tattooed from here to Timbuktu, with two full arm sleeves that, frankly, should be banned, because it only makes him that much hotter.
The funny thing is, you wouldn’t even know it because he always wears a suit and his arms are never visible.
I won’t deny half of my friends have asked me about who he’s dating, and if I can hook them up.
I told them all to take a hike. Sorry, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end of having to hear about Brad and his quivering member, or where he puts it, what he kisses like, or any juicy details.
Not the kind of thing you want to hear when you’ve been friends with a guy forever, and while he has a reputation for being grumpy, he’s never like that with me.
Me
I’m fine, B. Thanks for checking in. The Santa Anas this time of year always affects me. I’m okay
Brad
Anyone who gives me the thumbs up emoji is seriously not okay
Brad
Am I a jerk for leaving you with allergies?
I laugh out loud. This is Brad, always trying his best to help me out. Even when I make shit up so he won’t feel sorry for me.
Me
I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay
Brad
Fine, but if there’s something else going on, I’m your man
I’m your man.
I swallow hard reading the words. Why does that make my heart lurch?
I know everything about this man, and he isn’t the one-women kinda guy. Granted, lately he has been preoccupied with building his portfolio at the family business, Lucas Property Brothers LA, so his love life has taken a backseat. But make no mistake, Brad Lucas is a chick magnet.
Me
Ty. You’re good to me, Lucas :)
“Chelsea, there you are!” Mom makes me jump, and I almost drop my phone.
“Shit, Mom! You scared the living crap out of me!” I place a hand over my heart, puffing the air out of my lungs.
“Sorry, honey.” She narrows her eyes. “Is everything okay? Your eyes look puffy.”
I wave my hand in the air. “It’s Santa Ana allergies.” I was going to go upstairs and sulk, but now I just need to get back to work.
Having a big cry can wait until later. Pulling up my big girl panties is what I’m exceptionally good at, in fact, I’d say I’ve perfected it.
I don’t like lying to my mom either, but she has enough on her plate and she worries about me way too much as it is.
If I tell her about my money woes, she and Dad will find a way to step in, and I know my parents, Sandy and Terry, don’t have that kind of money to rescue me.
My parents are the best. They help me out as much as they can at work and with Deaton, but I can’t keep lumbering my problems on them.
Mom and Dad have their own lives to live, and they’re going on vacation next week to Florida — a break they’ve been looking forward to for a while.
It also leaves me without childcare on some of the afternoons where I can’t leave work early and Rose isn’t available, but I’ll figure it out.
Deaton hangs out with me when I’m working, but it’s more getting away to collect him from school, as well as his soccer practice.
All of my friends work, and the ones that have children don’t live close by.
“I’ve had a steady morning, people are loving the new dessert!” She claps her hands and takes off back to the front.
I smile to myself. My mom is my biggest fan and advocate. Every week I try to come up with a new dessert that’s not just delicious, but fun as well.
This week I came up with a blueberry mascarpone cheesecake with pistachio crunch and a caramel drizzle. I only have one other baker: a part-timer, Marlene, plus Rose and my mom, who comes in on weekends and when needed to give me a break. But other than that, it’s just me. And I’m exhausted.
I hate to admit it, but I wish I were going to Florida on vacation.
Even if I could do that, I have control issues.
All I’d do is worry about the place falling down; letting go is a process, and something I need to work on.
But nobody is going to care about this business more than I do.
I learned that early on, and mistakes have been made.
But I love my life. I love what I do, and I adore my son.
I’m also happily single. Don’t get me wrong, I love men.
I’m not the kind of scorned woman who thinks all men are bastards just because Deaton’s father left us when he couldn’t handle the pressure.
If anything, I guess I live in hope that one day the right guy will come along.
Maybe I’ve watched too many fairytales, but that’s the little girl in me that always thought my Prince Charming would show up.
After multiple disastrous dates, I decided I was done with dating.
I don’t know when it all became so complicated.
“That’s great, Mom,” I call after her. “Thanks for holding the fort!”
I’m happy as I am. Exhausted, but happy.