Chapter One
Calypso
One of the first things I had to get used to in my career were the hours. It’s only five a.m. but I’ve already finished my workout, taken a shower, made a smoothie, and driven to Brighter Daze. It wasn’t the easiest adjustment, but I’ve learned to love it.
Most mornings, nothing could ruin my mood. Not when I’m sore in that satisfying way that comes after an energizing workout, followed by making a perfect berry smoothie. I love the quiet drive to work and the empty streets before everyone else’s day starts.
It was supposed to be a good day.
The first letter on my mail pile sours my stomach immediately.
To: Calypso Davies
From: Stefan Prescott
Also known as my ex-husband and biggest regret.
I wish I could say this is the first time he’s tried to contact me, but I’ve received something from him monthly for the past three years—sometimes letters, like today, and other times gifts that I never keep.
At first, he swore he only wanted to talk, to check in on me.
It still sends a shiver down my spine. Stefan got more persistent after that, insisting that we could make our marriage work if I stopped my “tantrum.” I’m six years younger than him, and he never lets me forget it.
He eventually calmed down enough to take a caring friend approach after that.
Tearing the envelope open, a bitter laugh rips from my throat.
It’s a wedding invitation.
The “make her jealous” approach; this is a new one, and certain to fail.
Word spread quickly that he was engaged, despite the fact that he moved back to San Francisco after our divorce. My first thought was, that poor woman.
I can’t believe that bastard would go as far as sending me an invitation—that even Stefan would stoop so low as to ruin his fiancée’s wedding day to prove a point. Foolish of me to believe he has any humanity left.
I’m about to crumple it when I read the location.
The Kingsley in Aurora Hills.
It’s one of the most famous and luxurious venues in Southern California. I’m not surprised his mother would choose it. Martha is probably hoping she can erase the stain of our marriage from everyone’s minds.
I’ve been trying to scrub it from my own for years.
What irritates me is the fact he’s having the ceremony here, five hundred miles away from where he lives.
Suddenly unsettled, I rip the invitation into as small of pieces as I can and throw it in the trash. I shake my arms and head, trying to get my earlier mood back. After a few deep breaths, I push through the kitchen door and do my best to not think about it—about him.
Quickly, I wrap my hair into a bun and tie a bandana around it. It’s not my favorite hairstyle, but it’s better than a hairnet. Mentally, I go over the two cakes I need to finish while washing my hands.
The cupcakes that go with the Jaws-themed birthday cake are finished—vanilla cake dyed blue with red frosting and little dolls poking out.
All that’s left is the main sheet cake, but the eleven-year-old girl requested for a shark to be taking a bite out of the corner, and the plastic head just came in this morning.
My business partner and friend, Lexi, and I barely held it together while she gave me the details for the cake.
As for the other, it’s on the other spectrum of birthday cake requests I get. It’s a dramatic, four-layer round cake. She requested a vintage style that is inspired by Fancy Nancy. The note said, “If you think you’ve added enough gems, sparkles, and/or glitter, add more.”
Girls in their twenties are a whole different type of creative in their orders, but I’m really excited for that one.
I had no idea who Fancy Nancy was until a week ago.
The books had been published when I was already in high school.
Fair to assume I would have been obsessed if I had been the target age.
“Hey, Boss,” my assistant baker Chuck calls.
“Good morning,” I greet, drying my hands and turning toward him.
We’ve been working together for six years, so he is well acquainted with all of my moods.
Chuck is an older Black man who has been in the baking business for over twenty years, and he’s been with Brighter Daze since the beginning.
“The new recipe is done, if you want to taste it while it’s warm.”
Turning on my heel, I throw the paper towel away and walk toward his bread station in the corner. “Yeah, let’s try it. Which one is this again?”
Already cutting off a piece when I step up next to him, he reminds me, “S’mores.”
Scrunching my nose, I know better than to question Chuck’s instincts by now.
I thought he was crazy when he initially brought up the idea of expanding our sourdough options.
His fourteen-year-old granddaughter showed him a few videos online about the new fad.
My future brother-in-law Grady and our friend Knox confirmed that a lot of their high school students talk about it all the time.
So, I put my trust in Chuck because he’s never let me down before. I can still say that to this day.
I hadn’t been a huge fan of sourdough, so the trend didn’t make sense to me. It’s good, sure, but I tend to prefer recipes that call for milder yeast, like traditional baguettes and focaccia. A good wheat loaf really hits the spot, too.
I stand by that opinion with plain sourdough. However, the recipes Chuck has made would almost convert me.
Overall, it has been a small pot of gold.
We sell starter packs and Bake Your Own Sourdough Loaf kits that are popular for dinner parties and bachelorette weekends.
We’ve been brainstorming baking classes open to the public, but the space is tight.
It’s just a pipe dream we talk about most mornings.
The door separating the bookstore and kitchen swings open, revealing a yawning Ana.
“Are we doing a taste test?” she excitedly asks, perking up at the smell of gooey chocolate.
“We are,” Chuck calls out. “Grab the butter, will you?”
Ana quickly skips to the refrigerator. “I’ve been waiting for this one since you mentioned it last month.”
“That makes one of you,” Chuck jokes, lifting his chin in my direction.
Crossing my arms and rolling my eyes, I tell them, “You know I’ve loved almost all of them, especially the sweet ones; and bonfires are popular during the summer.”
An easy, less messy option to the classic fireside dessert was his inspiration behind this one. The dough itself has honey, brown sugar, and cinnamon mixed into the base, but the chocolate chips and marshmallows he added should ideally create a similar flavor.
After cutting a piece in thirds, we cheers and take a bite. Our rule is we have to always try it plain first, because butter makes everything better. It’s a fact.
Immediately, I know this is my favorite so far—beating the strawberry shortcake and the classic cranberry and orange he did for the holidays.
This one is something I’d keep in my house for a late night snack. There’s even a nice crunch to it, giving it more texture without turning it into a cracker.
“Is that feuilletine?” Ana asks, taking another bite.
Following suit, I go for another taste, chewing slower this time. The caramel and praline undertones are overpowered by everything else, so it was almost unnoticeable at first.
Nodding, he swallows his bite and confirms, “It is. Something was missing, but I figured it out this weekend. I even took our head tester, Bella, to the beach and warmed up a couple of pieces by the fire.” Bella’s his granddaughter and the one who showed him the videos. “She approves, by the way.”
“She’d be crazy not to,” Ana jokes around another bite.
I reach for another piece and look at him. “We wouldn’t be eating it if she hadn’t.”
He chuckles but doesn’t deny it. He thinks he’s a tougher man than he is, especially when it comes to the women in his life. Between his personal life and work life, that’s quite a few of us too.
“This one’s going to be really popular,” I add honestly. Even though he has decades of experience over me, it has always meant the world to me how much Chuck respects my opinions and suggestions.
Smiling proudly, he finishes off his last piece and claps his hands together. “I’ll get everything prepped to officially launch it next week, then.”
Washing my hands again, I agree and we break off to our morning tasks.
For a long time, it was only Chuck and me doing a majority of the baking.
Lexi and our shift manager Gavin can help with some things.
Lexi is surprisingly talented at decorating the sugar cookies; Gavin is strong enough to help Chuck knead and separate the heavy, dense doughs.
He can also follow a recipe to the T, which is a great trait in an amateur baker.
We’ve gotten by for the five and a half years since Lexi and I opened Brighter Daze.
It’s only gotten better since we hired a mother and daughter duo two years ago.
Like me, Juanita has her B.A. in Baking and Pastry Arts.
Unlike me, she entered her culinary program knowing that was what she wanted to do.
Her daughter Ana is eight years younger than me and has been taught mostly from Juanita, but she’s been as big of an asset as her mom.
Juanita has completely taken over the cookie side of things.
She’s got an insane talent and love for them, and they’ve never been my favorite pastry.
Chuck and I were able to offer general sugar cookie designs with a few other options, like chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, and the more generic flavors.
She’s turned it into something I couldn’t have ever imagined, making the holiday season particularly magical.