Haven Bound

2. Chelsea

2

Chelsea

The crisp tang of salt that permanently coats the air this close to the beach hits me as I step out of the small office building and pull my dark green cardigan tight around my torso. Finding parking is damn near impossible in this area. The closest lot is a few blocks away, but it doesn’t take long before I’m in the car and making my way toward the bakery. The short drive gives me just enough time to either overanalyze everything that was said during my therapy session or run through dessert recipes in my head.

It hasn’t necessarily always been a dream of mine to own a bakery. I didn’t grow up dreaming of being a baker, or even a business owner for that matter, but about five years ago, I started baking and testing recipes as a way to relieve stress and get out of my head. My anxiety had gotten so bad that I was having panic attacks in the grocery store and walking out empty-handed. In the beginning, I was baking to bring a little happiness and a sense of calm into my own life. Then I started taking treats to my friends anytime I’d tested and perfected a new recipe.

That quickly turned into those friends sharing the desserts I’d created with their friends and coworkers. Before long, I was getting requests for parties, workplace celebrations, family get-togethers, and just because. After three years of building a customer base and working out of my tiny apartment kitchen, I decided to throw caution to the wind and take out a business loan to lease a bakery storefront that had been sitting vacant.

The paperwork, designing, and inspections weren’t exactly a walk in the park, but after a few months, I was able to finally open Buttersweet Bakery . I offer a variety of treats that change based on the mood I’m in that week, which my customers love because they never know what kind of new treats they’ll find when they walk through those doors.

The small parking lot that sits directly behind Buttersweet and its adjoining businesses is supposed to be reserved for employees, but it’s not like anybody is sticking around to make sure that beachgoers aren’t taking up the spots. I take a moment after parking to focus on my breathing and make sure that my mind is settled before I climb out of the car and walk around to the front of the building. Standing in front of the bakery, I stare at the chalk writing on the giant window that lists what kind of treats are being offered this week.

It’s almost time for a refresh with next week’s menu, but I’m still debating on what to add as the final treat for the week ahead. A warm, sugary scent wafts through the air accompanied by the chime of one of the bells from above the doors as Quinn, my shop assistant, pushes it open. “There you are!” Her long blonde hair is piled into a messy knot on top of her head, an apron in our signature aqua blue color tied around her waist. “I was wondering when you’d be back. We just got a call from someone asking about a dessert table for an event in a few weeks. I think they said it was for a family party. I wrote down their information and left it on your desk.” She lets the door close behind her as she walks back inside, knowing that I’m going to follow her .

She’s the only employee that I have since I can’t afford to bring on more staff at the moment. She doesn’t help with the recipe prepping, but she does help with customers, getting everything baked, restocking inventory as needed, and making sure that everything stays clean.

The scent of freshly baked cookies immediately soothes my soul as I step inside, my gaze slowly wandering around the personal paradise I’ve built within these walls. Business has been a little slower than usual lately, which makes scheduling my therapy appointments easier but also makes me nervous going into the new season. This dessert table order couldn’t have come at a better time.

I make my way to my office in the back and grab a notepad off my desk to quickly write down the inventory in the display cases out front. I try to always stock some of the basics that keep customers coming back when they want a little something sweet but don’t necessarily want to place a custom order. Cookies in flavors like chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, cinnamon sugar, and of course some seasonal sprinkle cookies for my littlest customers who always want something colorful.

My house specialty is a soft and chewy coconut toffee cookie that gets the most rave reviews because of its unique yet irresistible flavor. I also offer what I call the “Go Commando” cookie, which is essentially my chocolate chip cookie minus the chocolate chips. It sounds plain and boring, but it’s actually really good. You get more of the brown sugar and vanilla flavor, and it just melts in your mouth.

As much as I cater to desserts, I do try to keep some brunch-type items on the menu as well. Scones and muffins are some of my top sellers for workplace orders because they’re sweet without necessarily being a dessert. With the change of the season and the autumn weather rolling in, I need to change up some of the flavors.

A smile tugs at my lips but immediately disappears as I finish jotting down inventory and flip the notepad back to the page where Quinn left the note about a dessert table order. Reading over the details, my attention catches on the last name Anders.

Anders.

As in…

That has to be a mistake. Hailey would’ve mentioned if her family was having some kind of party. We’ve been inseparable since the day we met in middle school. I was the new, awkward shy girl in school, and she immediately claimed me as her best friend, no questions asked. We’ve had arguments here and there, but there’s never been a time since we met when we weren’t constants in each other’s lives.

Of course, there were a few months during our senior year of high school when I wasn’t sure whether or not our friendship was going to survive, but it sort of became a non-issue. Her older brother Austin was the cause of the tension, or rather, my feelings for him were. But how I felt about him no longer mattered when he left town not long after graduation.

It’s gotta be a coincidence. But then… How common is the last name Anders?

I leave the note on my desk, adding it to the handful of calls that need to be made tomorrow. I need the rest of today to finalize the fall menu and sort out which recipes I want to use so that I can get the chalk writing on the window redone and have the cases fully stocked and ready to go for the weekend .

The rest of the day passes by fairly quickly, and by six o’clock I’ve got a stack of recipes and a list of the items I’d like to make for this season. It’s probably been about an hour since Officer Finch came in and purchased an assorted dozen cookies to take into work at the station with him tomorrow morning. He and his wife have been some of my biggest supporters since my apartment baking days and are without a doubt responsible for a good amount of the new and repeat customers I have each month.

Just as I’m standing from one of the small round tables in the main room, the bell above the doors chimes, and in walks the very last person I’d ever expect to see standing in my bakery.