Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Maya is working the cash register, and she’s also out front with the few customers who want to eat their breakfast inside the small café.
I don’t normally do a lot of eat-in business at breakfast, as I don’t serve coffee. I made that decision when I first opened the bakery because I didn’t want to compete with Rita’s coffee shop. She brews a fine cup, and I didn’t want to take away her business, so my breakfast-sandwich business is mostly takeout.
Brendan is helping Maya up front, so I take time to knead a few more loaves of my special post-Thanksgiving sourdough blend. There’s something about having my hands in a ball of dough. Something oddly comforting and meditative. When I’m kneading bread, I tend to get my best ideas, and my intuition seems to flow.
And today… I’m hoping something positive will come to me about the card I drew last night. The tower.
Kneading has never failed me.
But it fails me today.
And the thought is frightening.
The tower. That imposing tower.
Something to do with my parents’ secrets.
Illness?
Destruction?
I continue to knead the dough.
But the thoughts… Negative thoughts…
They don’t stop.
My mother won’t talk to me.
Brendan and I will have to decipher those messages ourselves.
As soon as I close up after lunch?
I’ll get to work on it.
CHAPTER FORTY
BRENDAN
Ava is in better spirits after a few hours of baking. She’s helping us in the front now, taking orders, making sandwiches. It’s nearly eleven, so I need to get home, clean up, and get ready to open the bar around noon.
I tap her on the shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“I have to go.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you stayed this long.” She grabs my hand. “But thanks so much, Brendan. It was great having you here, and we needed the help today.”
“I’m happy to do it.”
“If you need help at the bar tonight, I’m your girl.”
“I might take you up on that. That way we can spend the evening together, even if we’re both working again.”
“I’d love it, to tell you the truth. You can teach me how to mix drinks.”
“Absolutely. Just show up whenever you feel like it.”
“I will.”
I give her a quick kiss on her lips and then I leave the bakery, but first I make sure to remove the apron and hairnet. Enough people saw me looking like that today. I’m not taking that look into public.
I walk a few buildings to my own place, and someone’s waiting for me at the back door.
He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. He’s average height, nondescript brown hair, dark-blue eyes. Nice enough looking.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“Yeah. My name’s Pat. Pat Lamone.”
I’ve heard about Pat Lamone. Some of the Steels have mentioned him in passing. Apparently he has a history with the Pike sisters, and it’s not good.
“We’re not opened yet, Pat.”
“I’m not here to have a drink. I need to speak with you.”
“What about?”
“About my grandmother. Her name is Sabrina Smith. That’s the name she goes by, anyway.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.
“Her real name is Dyane Wingdam.”
“Again, doesn’t ring a bell.”
Another figure approaches us.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
It’s Ryan Steel. Ava’s father.
Here, at the bar, with me.
“Ryan,” I say, “what can I do for you?”
“You can let me in.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
Ryan glances over at Pat. “I know who you are,” he says.
“Yeah, I know who you are as well, Mr. Steel.”
“So you think you’re a Steel relative?” Ryan says.
“Yeah. That’s what I hear, anyway.”
“Okay,” I say. “Clearly this has nothing to do with me, so if you’ll both excuse me—”
“Actually, this does have something to do with you,” Ryan says. “Could we go inside, please?”
“For God’s sake.” I unlock the door and hold it open. “After you.”
Ryan Steel and Pat Lamone traipse into my bar via the back door.
What the hell could this be about? Pat Lamone, who thinks he is related to the Steels, and Ava’s father. Both here, at my bar, wanting to talk to me.
Pat about his grandmother, who I don’t know from Adam. And Ryan about… Well, I can only guess it has something more to do with those messages Ava and I received.
“All right. I’ve been helping Ava all morning at the bakery, and as you can see, I’m filthy. I need to take a shower so I can open this place by noon.” I glance at the clock on the wall of the bar. “That gives the two of you about three minutes. What the hell do you want?”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
AVA
By two o’clock, it’s time to close the bakery. I leave Maya and Luke to clean up. I want to go upstairs, get a shower, and go over to the bar to help Brendan. As soon as I get back to my apartment, though, my gaze falls on the card still sitting on the table.