Willow heaved a mighty sigh, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the back seat. But still, she remained silent.
“If you aren’t feeling well darlin’ I can take you home instead of going to see the baker.” I waited a beat, before adding smoothly. “She makes cookies, cupcakes, and cakepops, I hear.”
Willow’s head snapped up. “What’s a cakepop?” she asked suspiciously.
I hid a smile. “Let’s go find out.”
I managed a parking spot a few doors down from the bakery—which was conveniently next to the florist. I’d previously exchanged emails with both the florist and the baker, and I’d checked out their websites online…however nothing beat seeing how they ran their businesses first hand.
I went around to let Willow out of the car, and hand-in-hand we walked into Charming Cakepops. The bakery’s display window featured a Valentine’s Day motif—lots of pink and red cupcakes, a sprinkling of artisan chocolates, many cakepops, and heart shaped cookies.
In the display, the cookies appeared to spill out of an old vintage, glass cookie jar that was lying on its side, and everything else was artfully arranged on tiered trays. It took seconds to sum it all up, but the display had my mouth watering, and looking forward to seeing the inside of the bakery.
I pushed open the wooden door that was painted candy pink and an old bell sounded.
“Be right out!” a woman’s voice called from somewhere in the back.
Willow went straight for the display cases holding the treats and tugged me along with her. While she perused the baked goods, I took the opportunity to check out the set up. Old hardwood floors gleamed in the winter light. Beautiful white shelving covered the entire wall behind the cases and was trimmed out with fancy gingerbread woodwork. The background of the shelves was painted the palest of pink, and lighting brightened each shelf. Gleaming white pendant lights illuminated the cases and the confections displayed inside.
I studied the large chandelier that hung in the center of the room. The light fixture was painted in an eye-popping shade of hot pink. The décor was clever, I thought.
It was vintage meets new, with rustic wood, glossy white shelving and cases, gleaming glass, and the barest hint of dusty rose on the walls. A half dozen metal café tables and padded ice cream chairs allowed for seating. At the moment, a pair of college students was sitting together at a table, each with a cupcake and a coffee. A self-serve coffee and tea center was arranged along the far wall, and a sign above it proclaimed: Cake Fixes Everything.
No doubt about it, the bakery had style and atmosphere…but best of all, it smelled incredible inside the shop. I was never going to walk out of there empty-handed.
“Hi. Can I help you?” came a cheerful voice.
I discovered a petite woman standing behind the front counter. A tumble of platinum blonde curls were pinned to the crown of her head. It added a few inches of height to her, but at a guess she couldn’t have been taller than five foot two.
“I’m Maggie Parrish,” I said. “I have an eleven o’clock meeting with Candice Jacobs to discuss the Bishop - Quinn wedding.”
“I’m Candice.” Dark brown eyes danced as she came out from around the counter. She was wearing a white chef’s coat with pink trim, but also jeans and neon green tennis shoes.
“Hello,” I said, and smiled at her outfit. When she reached for my hand and shook it, my shoulders dropped. I immediately felt at home. There was something…well…charming about Candice.
“It’s nice to meet you in person, Maggie.” Candice turned her attention to my daughter. “And you’re Willow. I’m glad your mom could bring you along.”
“Thank you for understanding,” I said. “Willow starts preschool tomorrow, and—”
“You’ve only just moved here.” Candice tipped her head. “Your accent is awesome. Where are you from?”
“Louisiana,” I said.
“Autumn mentioned you were from out of town but I didn’t realize you were from out of state.”
I dropped a hand to my daughter’s shoulder. “Willow, say hello to Ms. Jacobs.”
“Hi.” Willow reached back for my hand and gripped it tightly.
Candice motioned us to a table and went to go gather her notes for the wedding. I helped Willow unzip her coat and she climbed onto the ice cream chair and swung her feet. “It smells yummy in here, Mama.”
“This won’t take long,” I promised Willow. “When we’re finished we can go get lunch.”
“Can I have a cheese burger?” Willow wanted to know.
Before I could answer her, Candice came back out carrying a tray. As she walked closer I saw that the tray held a notebook, three short bottles of water, and a small plate of cakepops. Quickly, she set the tray down, passed out the water, and put the cakepops in the center of the table.
“Ooooh,” Willow breathed as she studied the sparkly cakepops in pink and white. “Mama, look!”
“Do we have any food allergies?” Candice asked me.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Good.” Efficiently, Candice placed tiny white paper doilies in front of Willow and then me.
“I didn’t expect you to bring out samples,” I started to say.
“Think of these as less of a sample, and more of a ‘Welcome to William’s Ford’ offering.” Candice placed one white and one pink cakepop in front of both Willow and me. “What do you think of our town, Maggie?” she asked.
“It’s lovely,” I said.
“You moved into the brick cottage on the Drake’s property, right?”
“Yes, they’re a family connection.”
“I see.” Candice’s expression was carefully neutral as she took her seat.
My stomach dropped. I didn’t know why it had become suddenly awkward, yet I felt the best course of action was to change the subject. Deliberately, I picked up the white cakepop. “How did you decorate these so perfectly?” I asked, admiring the swirls of glittery pink. “They’re almost too pretty to eat.”
“That one is red velvet dipped in white chocolate,” Candice explained, and reached across the table to
