decided to rise, until she fell into bed early in the evening utterly exhausted, sometimes still in her work clothes. And so far, it was working. She was keeping her existing clients and gaining new ones. Things at last were looking up. Her clients recognized true quality and not frozen mass product.
Now that Christmastime was here, it was time to sparkle. Pepper loved Christmas above all other holidays. And that was saying something because they all had a special place in her heart. But she not only loved Christmas, she really loved it. It was magical and it brought out the best in people. People were a little nicer to others, holding doors, sharing a smile or a nod. If it was possible, she’d have Christmas all year round.
It was almost time to open up for the day. She loved this early morning hour. In her mind, each day was a new beginning with new possibilities. And she had a feeling something big was going to happen. Maybe they’d be hired for the wedding of the year. Or perhaps she’d meet a big client at the holiday party she was catering that evening. A smile pulled at her lips as anticipation put some pep in her step.
She moved to the stereo system and turned it on. Over the speakers came the deep timbre of Michael Bublé’s voice as he sang “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” She glanced out the window as the flurries swirled through the air. This really was her favorite time of the year.
Yesterday had been Sunday, the only day of the week the shop was closed. She’d taken advantage of the downtime to get out the holiday decorations. It took all day to exchange the Thanksgiving fanfare for the homey Christmas look, but that was because she’d baked and crafted a lot of the decorations herself.
She paused next to the glass display cases and glanced around at her handiwork. On the brick wall where floating shelves normally displayed an array of antique dishes, she’d replaced them with gingerbread figures, from a giant gingerbread man to a gingerbread train. There were also red ribbons, greenery, pinecones and a poinsettia bloom here and there.
She loved gingerbread. Not only did it taste delicious, but there were so many things to do with it. And so she might have gone a little overboard this year with gingerbread. It was even in the store window.
Looking around at all she’d accomplished, she realized she’d done it all alone. As much as she loved this bakery, she’d give it up to have her family once more. The joy the bakery brought to her life just wasn’t the same as having her family by her side, especially during this festive holiday season.
Walking through life alone was not how she’d envisioned her future. And yet that’s exactly what she was doing. Because each and every person who meant something to her had been torn from her life.
She’d learned to close her feelings to others little by little, and her grandmother’s death had been the last straw. That was it. The protective walls had fully encased her heart. She was done with loving and losing.
Pepper moved to the front door and turned the lock. She smiled as the first rays of sun lightened up the inky sky. Beneath the streetlights, a light coating of snow was detectable. It had fallen last night, coating the grass but leaving the street clear.
“It’s going to be a good day. A very good day indeed.” If only wishes came true.
“What did you say?” Charlotte asked from behind the counter.
Pepper shook her head. “Nothing important.”
Charlotte arched a brow. “Talking to yourself again?” When Pepper shrugged, Charlotte continued, “You keep that up and I’m going to start worrying about you.”
Pepper moved behind the counter. Her gaze strayed across the little stuffed dog she’d had since she was a girl. When she was young, they’d lived in an apartment—a small apartment—that didn’t allow pets. And she’d wanted a dog in the worst way. Every birthday and Christmas, when anyone asked her what she wanted, she would tell them a puppy.
Her mother felt so bad that she gave Pepper this designer stuffed beagle and a promise that someday when they moved to a bigger place that allowed pets, she would get her a dog. But that day never came.
She’d lost her mother at the tender age of eight, after a car had run a red light and struck her mother as she’d crossed the street. Pepper had gone to live with her grandmother, who was allergic to animals. Bugles McBeagle had come with her.
She sighed as she ran a finger over the dog’s plush fur, promising herself that someday she would have her puppy. Just not today.
The business phone rang. Pepper rushed over to answer it. “Hello. This is the Polka Dotted Bakery. How may I help you?”
“Pepper, this is Mike. I’m sorry to do this, but I quit.”
“Quit?” Not again.
“I just couldn’t say no.”
“No? To what? To whom?” She had a sinking feeling she knew who he was talking about, but she had to hear him say it. She needed the confirmation.
“The other bakery. They approached me when I was leaving work yesterday. They offered me a lot more money. And with the baby on the way, we need all of the money I can make. Pepper, if it wasn’t for that, I swear, I wouldn’t be leaving. Honest.”
She liked Mike. He’d been with her since she’d opened the shop. And even though she didn’t want to, she understood he had to put the needs of his family before his loyalty to her and the business.
She wished him well and hung up. So now she was short a baker and she had a party to prepare for...alone.
Not wasting any more time, she got to work.
THIS COULDN’T BE HAPPENING.
How had he let this slip through the cracks?
With the tinted rear windows of the car, no one could make him out. Simon was free to stare at the passing buildings and people hustling along the crowded sidewalk. The Polka Dotted Bakery was a place he’d thought of often in the past several weeks. He tried to tell himself that it was the fragrant and rich coffee that he missed, but it was something more than that. An image of Pepper laughing flashed in his mind. He recalled how her lush lips would part, lifting up at the corners, and her pinkened cheeks would puff up. But more than that, her eyes would twinkle and the green of her eyes reminded him of gemstones.
And then a much more somber memory rushed to the forefront—his last conversation with Pepper. There had been no smiles, no friendliness. She’d dumped him, dismissed him, had no use for him. That was something he was not used to, at all. He was the one who always ended relationships. Not the other way around.
“Pull over here,” he said to his driver.
He didn’t normally have a driver, but seeing as he was headed for the bakery and parking could be quite limited at this time of the day, he’d decided it would be prudent. He’d considered calling her on the phone, but he didn’t feel right about it.
Simon opened the car door and immediately the distinct nip in the air assailed him. The holidays were here and so was the winter season. He tugged at the collar of his black wool overcoat and pulled it close to his neck to keep out the chilling
