Chapter 9 - THE BREAD AND THE BOSS
Six months later.
The bell above the door of Parker’s Oven jingled merrily, announcing another customer.
I wiped my hands on my white apron, leaving a streak of flour across the fabric, and walked out from the back kitchen.
The bakery was completely transformed. The display cases were gleaming glass, filled with fresh cannoli, sourdough loaves, and delicate pastries. The walls were painted a warm, inviting cream, and the smell of yeast and melted chocolate was intoxicating.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the shop was packed.
“Aunt Grace!”
Lily ran behind the counter, wearing a miniature apron over her school uniform. She was holding a drawing she had just finished at one of the corner tables.
“Look!” Lily beamed, holding up the paper.
I crouched down and looked at the crayon drawing. It was a picture of the bakery. But standing in front of it were three stick figures. A woman with blonde hair, a little girl in a yellow dress, and a very tall man in a black suit.
My heart swelled. I kissed her forehead. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Let’s put it on the fridge in the back.”
As Lily skipped into the kitchen, I stood up and looked across the dining room.
Evelyn was sitting at her favorite table near the window, sipping an espresso and reading the newspaper, looking as elegant as the day I met her.
She caught my eye and smiled warmly, raising her cup in a silent toast.
The bell above the door jingled again.
The chatter in the bakery didn’t stop. Nobody lowered their voices. Nobody straightened their jackets in fear.
Lorenzo walked in.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, minus the tie. He looked powerful, commanding, and utterly relaxed.
He didn’t bring bodyguards inside. He didn’t need to. The neighborhood knew exactly who he was, and they knew exactly who he belonged to.
Lorenzo walked straight past the line of customers, slipped behind the counter, and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.
“You have flour on your nose,” Lorenzo murmured, kissing the side of my neck.
“I’ve been baking since four a.m.,” I laughed, leaning back into his solid chest. “You’re lucky it’s only on my nose.”
“I’m lucky about a lot of things,” he said softly.
He reached into his pocket and placed something small and silver on the marble counter next to the cash register.
It was the silver sparrow locket.
I had given it to him a month ago to have the broken clasp repaired.
“Good as new,” Lorenzo said.
I picked it up, tracing the wings with my thumb. The locket didn’t hold a brass key anymore. The deeds were safely filed away with a legitimate law firm.
I popped the locket open.
Inside was a tiny, perfectly cut photograph. It was a picture of Lorenzo, Lily, and me, taken at the bakery’s grand opening.
I smiled, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, and clasped the necklace around my neck.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Lorenzo turned me around in his arms. He didn’t care about the flour on my apron or the customers watching us with fond smiles.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.
I looked around the bakery. At my father’s dream, resurrected. At Evelyn, finding a second family. At Lily, safe and laughing in the back kitchen. And finally, at Lorenzo, the terrifying man who had walked into my life and built a fortress around my heart.
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“I’m already here,” I said.
I pulled his head down and kissed him, right in the center of the bakery, surrounded by the smell of fresh bread and the absolute certainty that I would never, ever be abandoned again.
