“Anything new and exciting in the hopper?”
Her mind flashed to Amanda and her little bakery out in Kenota.Hardly the stuff Cornell powerhouses would find exciting, but it sat prettyhigh on her list at the moment. “The Trumansburg Library expansion will breakground soon.”
“That’s great,” Joanna said. They both nodded encouragingly.
Quinn nodded back but allowed her gaze to wander in search ofsomeone—anyone—else she might know and urgently need to chat with. She’d madeit about halfway around the room when her sights landed on the woman she’d justbeen thinking about. Bingo. “If you two will excuse me, I see a client I shouldsay hello to.”
“Of course.” Lesedi reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s goodto see you.”
She no longer flinched when Lesedi did that. It still bugged her,but more in a vaguely awkward way than the patronizing pity she got right afterthe divorce. “You take care.”
“You, too.”
Quinn wound her way around the room, trying not to be obvious inmaking a beeline for Amanda. Quinn got to her as she dropped a handful oftickets into one of the raffle buckets. “So, you’re an all in sort of woman.”
Amanda turned her way, confusion apparent on her face.Fortunately, recognition quickly followed. “Quinn. Hi.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here, but it’s definitely a pleasantsurprise.”
“Same. I’ve been coming for years, actually. Long-time supporterof the agency. You?”
“Only my second. My firm did the design for the newadministrative spaces last year.” Arti had pitched it as their big pro bonoproject for the year. Once Quinn understood the scope of the project and themission of the organization, she’d taken the lead.
“Right, right. I remember the board president talking about it.”
Not quite wanting the conversation to end, Quinn indicated thebucket. “So, as I was saying before, you’re an all in sort of woman.”
Amanda offered a playful smile. “I embrace a hybrid model.”
They could be discussing sock-folding methods for all she cared,as long as it came with that smile. “Do tell.”
“I buy twenty tickets. Ten go in the one I really want and thenthe other ten get spread around.”
“Huh.” She didn’t put a lot of thought into raffles, but it waskind of genius.
“You think I’m silly. I can tell.”
“Not at all.” There were several words she was thinking thatshe’d just as soon Amanda not know, but silly was absolutely not one of them.
Amanda lifted her chin. “All right. What’s your method?”
Quinn raised her hands. “I’m now embarrassed to admit I don’thave one.”
Amanda let out a tutting sound and shook her head. “Well, thatwon’t do.”
“Would it be bad form to steal your strategy?”
She considered for a moment. “Only if you put your ten in Cook’sNight Off.”
That particular item, a collection of gift certificates to localrestaurants, was one of several dozen options. “Seems fair.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to boo you if you won.” Amanda smirked.
“Do you always heckle the winner if it isn’t you?”
Amanda shrugged. “Only on the inside. I’m generally wellbehaved.”
How was it easier to talk to Amanda than the majority of thewomen she went on dates with?
“You’re making that judgmental face again.” Amanda seemed to bekidding but still.
Quinn cleared her throat. “Sorry. My mind wandered. No judgment,I swear.”
“I suppose I can take your word for it.”
Before Quinn could reply, a voice came over the sound system encouragingguests to visit the buffet and purchase their raffle tickets in the next tenminutes. “I guess that’s my cue.”
“I’ll see you next week, right?”
All the approvals were in place and they were officially closingthe bakery to start construction. They had one final meeting to sign contractsand releases. “Absolutely. Are you excited?”
Amanda clasped her hands together, delight clear on her face. “Ican’t wait.”
As sorry as she was to see the conversation end, she did need tobuy her tickets. And get breakfast. And find her table. She offered Amanda aparting smile. “I hope you win.”
Amanda chuckled. “You, too.”
She joined the line at one of the ticket stations and studied theprogram for the raffles she should enter. She put her first ten in a wine ofthe month from Fairmount Ridge and sprinkled the remainder without thinkingabout it too much. She was sure, however, to avoid Amanda’s bucket of choice.Because while she believed Amanda wouldn’t literally boo her, when it came tostaying on Amanda’s good side, she found herself not wanting to take anychances.
Chapter Eleven
Amanda took a deep breath and looked around. Everything,including the appliances and the big worktable, had been packed up and put instorage. Even knowing it was temporary, seeing her kitchen so empty filled herwith unease. It reminded her of a dream—nightmare, really—she used to have ofthis exact scene. Only, in her dream, Bake My Day had failed. She’d failed. Andshe was standing alone in the kitchen to say a final good-bye to everythingshe’d worked for.
She shook her head, as though the movement itself might shake offthe anxiety that used to haunt her with more regularity. It was silly to feelthat way now. Bake My Day wasn’t merely keeping its head above water. It wasmore successful than she’d dared to hope for back in the early days. Back whenMel had been supportive on the surface but couldn’t seem to keep herself fromcommenting on their dwindling savings. When every Saturday night cake deliverywas met with a self-aggrandizing offer to babysit. Like taking care of her ownchildren by herself was some grand gesture.
Her phone pinged with a text from Mel. Big day! Let me know if you want company.
The sense of dread crept back in, and it hit her. She wasn’tfeeling this way because of the bakery. She was feeling this way because ofMel. She dashed off an, I’mgood, but thanks, annoyed but not wanting to start an argument.
She headed to the front of the bakery, which managed to look evenmore starkly empty than the kitchen. It didn’t bring her down the way thekitchen did, though. Realizing the source of her angst had actually helped.
Joss was already there, giving directions to her crew. When shesaw Amanda, she stopped mid-sentence and did introductions. A small thing, really,but the kind
