Meet Your Baker Read Online Free

a dangerous place.”
    Andy popped his head around the counter. “Hey, are we selling that raspberry jam from the Danish? Customers are asking for it.”
    “Look at you—your first official day back on the job and our guests are begging for your jam.” Mom beamed. “Andy, didn’t I tell you my daughter’s an artist?”
    Her smile took years off her face. Her aging had started to show in the way she worked the dough. Her quick hands used to fly over the dough, rolling out a dozen pie shells in a matter of minutes, and she kneaded bread dough like she had aggression to work out. Baking by her side again, I could tell her pace was slowing.
    “Tell them to check back tomorrow.” I didn’t have any pressing plans for the afternoon, or for that matter for the rest of my life. Maybe the meditative process of jamming might help me clear some head space.
    “You got it, boss.” Andy returned to the espresso machine.
    I watched him for a minute. Nancy couldn’t be more wrong. The kid pulled shots better than the highly trained baristas on the ship.
    “I met Nancy Hudson. She’s a real gem,” I said, pulling yeast from a rack.
    Mom chopped chunks of dark chocolate that she’d slowly melt to dip the almond shortbread into once it cooled. “Don’t even get me started on that woman.”
    Before we could dish on Nancy, a man’s voice interrupted us.
    “Ah, the rumors are true. I see the prodigal daughter has returned.”
    The voice belonged to Richard Lord, owner of the Merry Windsor Inn. Richard had been trying to buy my parents out for as long as I could remember. Once Dad died, he ramped up the pressure. To Mom’s credit, she appeared unfazed by his attempts.
    I know the only reason Richard wants to get his hands on Torte is because he wants to own the entire town. He takes the “Lord” part of his name seriously.
    “Nice to see you, Mr. Lord.” I put on my best customer service smile.
    Mom came around behind me and stood with her arm on my shoulder. “If you’re here to try to poach my business or daughter, neither are for sale.” Her face was passive, but her tone was cool.
    “Helen, you jest.” Richard smoothed his green and yellow plaid golf shorts. His belly had expanded and his hairline had receded since the last time I saw him. “I simply wanted to welcome Juliet back into town, and I promised my golfing buddies I’d bring snacks. As you know, our kitchen at the Merry Windsor is undergoing a state-of-the-art remodel. I’m adding a coffee stand and a whole new line of pastries to go.”
    “Yeah, you mentioned that.” Mom went back to racking cookies.
    Richard waited while Andy boxed up an assortment of pastries in one of our white cardboard to-go boxes with a red and blue Torte logo stamped on the front.
    “Juliet, you should come by the inn. You won’t recognize the place. I’ve expanded. Took over the old shoe repair shop. The remodel is keeping your mom on her toes, right, Helen? You know what they say, ‘a little healthy competition is always good for business.’”
    Mom either didn’t hear him over the clatter of customers chattering in the front, or more likely intentionally ignored him. Richard shrugged, took his box of goodies, and pointed his index finger at me. “You come see me soon, ya hear?”
    After he was out of earshot, Mom shook her head. “I don’t care how tight money is, that man is never getting this place.”
    “ Is money tight, Mom?”
    “No, no, don’t worry about it.” She reached for another handful of chocolate and changed the subject. “Did you know Richard’s dating Nancy? I couldn’t pick a better match. Those two deserve each other.”
    “Wait.” I paused as I stirred lukewarm water and yeast together. “Richard and Nancy are a couple?”
    “Yep. They’ve been together a month or so.”
    “Funny, she just told me a sob story about losing her fiancé.”
    Mom nodded, “She’s got that act well rehearsed, if you ask me.”
    “Maybe she should