1
In case anyone ever doubted it, getting up at four in the morning was all sorts of things. Jules Lamprey had been doing it for years so it wasn’t so much a matter of holy crap, it’s early anymore.
What she did like, she thought as she locked her front door and headed to her car, was the way the world held so much anticipation. No dawn yet. But it wasn’t the middle of the night anymore either. The promise of a new day was just beginning to manifest itself.
She liked that she pretty much had the road to herself as she made the short trip to Tart. Oh sure, in a while there’d be people waking up to get that first ferry to Seattle, but for now, it felt as if the entire world was all hers.
And for a brief, thrilling moment after she’d parked her car and walked up the block, she stood and looked at her shop.
Tart, in all its glory. Shiny red and chrome with black-and-white tiles on the floor. The place she’d been given so unexpectedly had become her heart. The place she always knew existed because she’d made it so.
Hers. She unlocked the back door and went through to the kitchen, hanging her things up and getting ready to start the day. She figured at least one of her friends would be by in the next hour either to help or seeking tarts and coffee, and that made her nearly as happy as seeing the front of Tart each and every morning.
• • •
True to Jules’s gut feeling, Gillian came in at six. Gillian Forrester had been Jules’s closest friend for well over a decade and a frequent early bird visitor to Tart once she got her son Miles off to school.
Even so, six fifteen was early for Gillian.
“So what? Did you have some hot, early morning nookie with your rock-star fiancé or what?”
Gillian sniffed, but the smile on her lips gave her away. “I really need some coffee.”
Jules grinned, leaning in for the hug. Tart had just opened for the morning commuters. She’d already done all her prep and things were baking and her display case was full of delicious treats.
But it was quiet enough for the time being that she could pause a moment to make Gillian a latte and slide a scone her way.
“Adrian was working pretty much the entire night in his new studio. He came home a while ago and told me he’d get Miles to school before he crashed. I sleep poorly when he’s working. It’s terrible and I should be ashamed of myself for apparently being addicted to him in my bed like some sort of comfort object.”
Her best friend had met Adrian Brown the year before in an unlikely way. He was the biological father of her son Miles. They’d had a rough start, but Jules had never seen Gillian happier and the two of them were getting married that summer.
“Ashamed, my ass. You’ve got love. Love in the form of a tattooed, tall, dark and handsome musician who adores you. Of course you like him in your bed. But it’s nice of him to deal with Miles.”
Gillian’s smile made Jules happy to the tip of her toes. “And we did, you know, get a little early morning—ahem—action in. So now I’m awake and he’s going to sleep once he gets Miles off to school so I figure I might as well come here, see you, which I don’t do often enough of late. And you’ll take pity on me and give me caffeine.”
It’d been a while since Jules had had early morning action, or action of any kind. Maybe she’d meet some hot rock-star friend of Adrian’s at the wedding.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. You’re right, I don’t see you often enough lately.”
“Are you mad at me? You must all feel like I’ve abandoned you.”
She squeezed Gillian’s hand. “Heck no. You have a few things going on in your life right now. A kid. A fiancé. A wedding. Your business. A new house. Hanging out with your friends tends to fall to the bottom of the list when you’re doing all that other stuff. We don’t feel like you’ve abandoned us. You should know us better than that.”
Jules handled a few of her regulars before turning her attention back to Gillian.
“I miss you. There’s so much going on.”
Jules studied Gillian carefully, worried suddenly that she’d missed something. “Is everything all right? Do you need me to kick anyone for you?”
“This is exactly what I miss. No one you need to kick, though you know how much it pleases me to have my own army of Amazonian warrior women ready to do my bidding and protect me should I need it.”
Jules laughed as she worked the counter for a few minutes.
“It’s just busy,” Gillian said as Jules got back to her. “Wedding stuff, and thank you so much for all your help. And house stuff. We’re halfway between my house and the new place and Miles is bouncing off the walls with excitement. Little prat got a D on a big math test last week. I only found out when Adrian had taken out the recycling and found it in the papers.”
Jules winced. Gillian loved her son intensely, but she was a tough momma on the big stuff like school.
“Anyway, I figured if I came in here before my first lesson and while my men took care of themselves, we could visit and you could fill me in on how the new arrangement is working.”
The new arrangement was the business deal she’d worked out with her friends Mary and Daisy. Mary had moved her catering and dinner club business into Tart’s space and had already grown her business by 50 percent. Daisy’s art hung on the walls, and she sold it and other local artists’ work as well as handling the business and marketing for Tart and Mary’s catering business.
A lot of new things happening. So much that Jules found herself juggling her life a lot more lately than she ever had. But she felt like things were really looking up.
“I’m getting used to sharing my space, and it’s going well. Profits are up for all three of us. I’m going out to Patrick Carter’s farm after I close today. I’m expanding my menu to include locally grown produce.”
“He’ll love that. I’ve been worried about him after losing his wife.”
“He seemed all right when I spoke to him on the phone. But you know, I can’t imagine losing the love of my life after all those decades together. He still comes in here at least once a month though. And I think he’s slowly moving forward.” The Carters had been one of those couples who seemed to light up at the sight of one another.
“Here, try this one. It’s a new recipe.” She gave Gillian one of the strawberry buttermilk muffins she’d made earlier.
“If I must.” Gillian winked and then tried it, humming her delight. “This is really good. Which pretty much is my answer every time you have me try something new of yours.”
“The strawberries were frozen, but once they’re in season I have a local supplier. I’m taking some out to Patrick’s to give him a sample of what I can do.” Along with the cherry turnovers he loved so much. Hey, she wasn’t above a little bribery.
“No one is going to complain when you arrive carrying one of your red-and-white bakery boxes.” Gillian grinned.
Pride filled Jules at the compliment. She’d worked hard to make the place her own after she’d inherited the building. It pleased her so much that she’d been as successful as she had.
She’d never wake up one day to have her entire life turned upside down and not have a backup plan. Like her mother had.
• • •
