SARAH FULLERTON PRESSED a finger to her forehead, trying to concentrate.
In the past four years, she’d gone from running a small sweet shop with two employees to overseeing a bakery and catering business with more than twenty employees. The front of the shop looked the same as before, but the operation behind it had become a monster.
A loud clatter out in the main kitchen made her jump.
“Sorry about that,” called Gabby Michaelson, one of the shift supervisors. “Just dropped some pans. No harm done.”
Except to my nerves, Sarah thought, pushing the order forms away. She’d hoped to finish her office work during regular hours, but it would have to wait.
Lately she’d begun to daydream about getting a full night’s sleep. While the business was booming, it was partly due to nepotism. The nearby Poppy Gold Bed and Breakfast Inns was owned by relatives, and they’d contracted with her to provide all the food needed at the facility. Now their kitchens were quiet most of the time and hers were insane.
Granted, things were crazier than normal right now because her aunt, who’d been helping to manage the shop, had recently broken her leg. It would get better when Aunt Babs came back. If she came back. She’d asked Sarah to look for a permanent replacement for her, but it wasn’t easy finding an experienced office manager in Glimmer Creek.
“Sarah, can you help Aurelia?” Gabby called. “With David out, she’s swamped. A bunch of customers just came in, and we’re filling éclairs for that special order.”
With a tired sigh, Sarah got up and went out front, a babble of voices greeting her from the waiting area.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats was on the edge of the Glimmer Creek historic district and the tour buses parked nearby, so they got groups coming and going. She usually had two employees at the counter, but David had called in sick and Aurelia was trying to handle everything herself.
“I’m sure you’ll love the fudge,” said a familiar voice. Sarah’s eyes widened—it was Rosemary Prentiss, a Poppy Gold Inns guest she’d talked with several times. “The cappuccino flavor is my favorite,” Rosemary continued. “I also love the banana muffins. They’re wonderfully moist and have chunks of dried apricot.”
“Those sound delicious, too. I’ll take four.”
Rosemary had been visiting the sweet shop for the past several days, sitting and drinking tea for extended periods. Now she was behind the display counters, boxing a selection of fudge and muffins. She handed the containers to Aurelia to ring up at the cash register and cheerfully greeted the next customers in line.
Once again she efficiently filled the order, her enticing descriptions of the baked goods convincing the older couple to order a dozen peanut butter cookies, a caramel apple pie and a pan of bread pudding.
Sarah shook off her surprise and stepped forward. “I can take over, Rosemary, but thanks for helping,” she said. “It’s awfully nice of you.”
Rosemary smiled. “I don’t mind staying. We’re doing fine. Aurelia is handling the cash register, and I can manage the rest. I’m sure you have other work to do.”
Aurelia Fullerton, one of Sarah’s many cousins, nodded fervently. “She’s a whiz, Sarah. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Uh, okay.”
Nonplussed, Sarah watched for another minute. Rosemary had explained she was staying at Poppy Gold with her youngest son, an Army captain who was recovering from a bomb blast in the Middle East. To give him time alone, she’d been exploring Glimmer Creek.
“Shoo, we’ve got everything under control,” Rosemary ordered, looking happier than Sarah had yet seen her. She’d seemed sad and lonely sitting at a corner table for hours, reading and drinking tea. When Sarah had said hello the first time, Rosemary had even anxiously asked if she was in the way.
Sarah gratefully retreated, thinking she would give Rosemary a gift certificate or selection of baked goods as a thank-you.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats had been a lot more fun before it expanded; Sarah wanted to be a baker, not a businesswoman, but she couldn’t let her cousin down—Tessa was the owner-manager of Poppy Gold Inns and had wanted to outsource their food needs. And the contract had helped pay off the debts from opening the shop.
Sarah was even starting to save for a rainy day. Sooner or later her frantic schedule would sort itself out, and she’d have more time for the things she loved.
In the smaller secondary kitchen, she began a batch of fudge. She had a swing-shift employee who made candy, but the fudge was a huge seller and they could always use more. Once she got a few of the standard batches made, she might experiment with a new flavor—chocolate, cinnamon and cayenne. Unique recipes were her specialty.
The familiar task was more soothing than office work, and soon she had several pans cooling on the candy rack, including her latest experiment. The challenge was making it zippy enough to wake up the taste buds but not too spicy.
Periodically she went out to check on Rosemary and Aurelia. Sales had remained brisk and she expected to find empty spaces in the display cases, but Rosemary had found time to restock them from the supplies in the back.
“Maybe I should put you on the payroll,” Sarah joked in a rare lull between customers.
“I’ve noticed your Help Wanted sign in the window. How about hiring me?” Rosemary asked, surprising Sarah. Rosemary dressed chicly and wore expensive jewelry. On top of that, Poppy Gold wasn’t cheap; this couldn’t be a woman who needed a job.
“What about your son?”
“He says he mostly needs peace and quiet and that I drive him crazy when I hover. So I could work afternoons to start and add mornings when he’s better.”
“I...sure,” Sarah said. “If you’re serious, I’ll get an application.”
Rosemary suddenly looked uneasy. “I’m quite serious. But I’ve never had a job, so I don’t have any references. I’ve managed numerous fund-raisers though, and I can give you names of people involved with them. I’m sure they’d vouch for me.”
“That’s fine. I mostly need to do a standard background check.”
Sarah went to get the application, unsure if she was batty or desperate. But Rosemary had already shown she was capable, and Sarah believed in listening to her instincts. The one time she hadn’t, she’d ended up married to a guy with the conscience of a snake.
As a matter of fact, her ex made snakes look good.
TYLER PRENTISS WAS frustrated and worried.
His red-eye flight had been delayed coming into the Sacramento International Airport, and then the car rental company had lost his reservation. It took an hour before he was finally able to get a vehicle and head