That was mostly because Lexi was in it and he’d been eyeing her for a couple of months. But he wasn’t telling Miss Coraline that. “I didn’t exactly pass.”
Miss Coraline gave him a gentle smile. “I understand, but some of the other people needing work seemed more suited to the other businesses. I didn’t have the final say who got on what list, if that’s any consolation,” Miss Coraline said. “But if you don’t want to work at the bakery, you don’t have to.”
“I suppose not,” Brian muttered.
“However, you might as well know the other businesses all have their own list of people to ask and if you don’t take this job, you probably won’t get one with the other stores.”
Not that he wanted to work at a pet store or flower shop either, but it seemed his options were growing narrower and narrower.
“I just need something until business picks up,” Brian said. “I’ve got a few mechanic jobs coming in...” He let the sentence drift off, not so sure he wanted Miss Coraline to know exactly where things lay for him. He’d heard rumors that Mr. Robert Randall was looking for financing. Maybe he was opening the factory again in spite of what Randall had said when he laid them off. But for now, he needed work.
“You’ll have to make your own decision. Pray about it and see what happens,” she said.
Brian released a light laugh. He’d spent a lot of time with God the past half year. Ever since he got his pink slip from Mr. Randall. Ever since he watched the town he loved slowly die off.
“I’ll do that,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I gotta run. I’m picking up my grandfather from Concordia. He’s coming for a visit.”
“You say hello to him from me, and I hope to see him around while he’s here.”
“You probably will. He’s been talking about moving back here.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Miss Coraline said.
“Yeah. Real nice.” The only problem was his grandfather would need a place to stay and that would likely be the house Brian had inherited when his parents died. But Brian was still making payments on it and if Grandpa moved in with him, Brian would need more than the sporadic mechanic work he had been getting to support the two of them.
You might have to take that job at the bakery after all.
He gave Miss Coraline a tight smile. “I better get going. I’ll see you around,” he said, then strode across the street to his truck.
As he drove out of town, he heaved a sigh, his mind spinning in circles, thinking about Melissa Sweeney, her job offer and his own situation.
When Randall Manufacturing closed its doors, he was out of a job. He’d worked as a foreman and had made decent money. Enough that he’d managed to set some aside with the hope of starting his own mechanic shop. He had been working on cars and trucks ever since he could pick up a wrench, helping his father work on farm equipment and fixing up his and his sister’s vehicles. He’d been doing some work on the side with an eye to someday owning his own business. Being his own boss.
After he lost his job he thought that would be the push he needed to get it started. So he’d gone to the bank for a loan. But the bank had turned him down, stating that his down payment wasn’t large enough given the current economic condition of the town.
His hopes had been revived when he’d heard about some mystery person with a large amount of money who was looking to start new businesses in Bygones. That hope had been extinguished in favor of outsiders. The committee was looking for new blood. New ideas.
Why had a local like him, who had way more invested in Bygones, been turned down in favor of someone who wasn’t from here, who couldn’t possibly care about the town the way he did?
Bunch of city slickers like Melissa Sweeney. He gripped the steering wheel of his truck, stifling his humiliation. In spite of his antagonism to Melissa as City Slicker Baker, he couldn’t stop noticing Melissa was an appealing woman. She was the first girl he had felt any kind of attraction toward in a while. In another time and in other circumstances he might allow that feeling to go somewhere. But not now.
He had no job and no prospects.
Nothing to offer her.
Chapter Two
“I may as well warn you—Trent’s mother wants to meet with us to talk about another change to the dessert menu.” Gracie Wilson ran her fingers through her short brown hair, artfully disheveling her cute pixie cut as she blew out a sigh. “And she was talking about adding a tea right after the church service. Said it was a courtesy for the people who attended the service who we didn’t invite to the reception.”
Melissa caught a curious note in Gracie’s voice. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You seem upset.”
Gracie waved off Melissa’s concerns. “I feel overwhelmed by all this fuss and bother. Mrs. Morgan is all about pink and girlie and I want things simple. I can’t believe how much planning she’s been doing. Plus, I wish we would have kept the wedding on a Saturday, the way I originally wanted. I just think she wants as many people there as possible.”
“A Sunday wedding will be very nice,” Melissa said, putting her hand on the young girl’s arm in a gesture of commiseration. “And if it’s any consolation my mother had been planning my wedding for years. In fact, before she died, she gave me a folder with ideas she collected.”
“I didn’t know your mother was dead,” Gracie said, her voice full of consternation. “That’s so sad.”
Melissa waved off her concern. “It happened five years ago.”
Gracie was quiet, then she leaned forward. “Have you met anyone since you came here who would give you a reason to pull that folder out?”
“I’ve met lots of people,” Melissa said, being deliberately obtuse.
“You know what I mean.” Gracie leaned closer, grinning, her previous funk disappearing behind her usual bubbly personality. “What do you think of my boss? Patrick Fogarty? Isn’t he just a dream?”
“He is good-looking.”
“That sounds like a brush-off. So, have you met someone else then?”
Just then the door opened. When Melissa looked up she had a sense of déjà vu.
Brian Montclair stepped into the Cozy Cup Café followed by an elderly man, tall, slender, wearing a golf shirt and plaid shorts. His hair, a thick shock of white, was neatly brushed and his blue eyes sparkled. He had the same widow’s peak as Brian, the same blue eyes. Melissa guessed this was Brian’s grandfather.
Brian glanced her way, then he hesitated a moment and she wondered if he would come up to her and accept her offer. Instead he turned to the man he was with.
“Grandpa, what did you want to drink?” Brian asked him.
Gracie glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to Melissa, grabbing at her arm, her eyes wide. “Oh. My. Goodness. He likes you,” she said in a stage whisper.
Melissa shot her a frown. “What? Who?”
“Brian. He totally likes you.”
Melissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes but lowered her voice, too. “That man has been nothing but cranky to me, especially when...” She stopped herself there, figuring someone like Brian wouldn’t want Gracie to know about her offering him a job.
But Gracie didn’t catch her vague sentence; instead, she looked back just as Brian glanced their way. Then she turned back to Melissa, her eyes wide with pleasure. “See? He is checking you out.”
“He’s