Chapter One
The new store across the street was nothing to worry about, Claire Turner assured herself as she slid the door to her bakery case open, bent down, and peered inside. Her two best friends were due to arrive any minute for their biweekly morning get together, and she wanted to have their muffins and coffee ready.
Hmm, what to choose? She had a variety of flavors—pistachio, chocolate, lemon poppyseed, orange-cranberry. As her hand hovered over the muffins, her attention wavered, drawn across the street again. Through the curved-glass front of the case, she could see that someone had painted the trim and put craft paper over the windows so no one could see inside. There was no sign announcing what kind of shop it was going to be. How odd. Probably just a beach store or shell shop. Lobster Bay had plenty of those, certainly nothing to concern Claire.
Not that she should be concerned. Her bakery, Sandcastles, was a popular destination for both residents and tourists in the sleepy beachside town. Business was booming. Good thing, too, because she’d put her heart and soul into her place, never mind her life savings. It had all been worth it to reinvent herself after her nasty divorce and prove that she could succeed all on her own.
Claire tore her gaze from the store and quickly chose two muffins then dug out a chocolate croissant for herself and put them all on a tray. The pleasure of eating it would be worth the calories, even though they would probably take up residence immediately on her hips.
“Don’t forget some muffins for Jane’s mom,” Hailey Robinson, Claire’s assistant, shot over her shoulder as she squeezed past Claire in the small space behind the case on her way to ring up a box of cupcakes for a customer.
“Thanks!” Claire reached back in, picked the two largest chocolate chip muffins out of the case, and added them to the tray. Claire held the tray overhead as she sidestepped Hailey on her way to the coffee pot and the clean white mugs hanging by their handles from hooks nearby.
Claire didn’t know what she would do without Hailey. The single mother was much more than just an assistant. Hailey knew everything about running Sandcastles, and Claire could trust her to fill in when Claire couldn’t be there. Claire was grateful that the bakery was successful enough that she could pay Hailey a good living wage.
Claire bagged the chocolate chip muffins, tipped the coffee pot’s contents into three mugs, arranged them and the plate on a tray, and left Hailey in charge of the customers while she went outside to meet her friends.
Claire navigated past the sandwich board, which announced her daily specials in brightly colored chalk, to an empty table on the brick sidewalk, where she could see the ocean at the end of the street. The sidewalks were wide, and the section in front of her café, designed for outdoor seating, was separated from the common walkways by tall planters loaded with lush leaves and colorful flowers.
She’d barely set the tray down when she spotted her friends a few stores down. Jane, tall and willowy, was laughing at something Maxi had said. Warmth bloomed in Claire’s chest as she watched Jane’s unfettered smile. It wasn’t often that Jane smiled like that these days.
As Jane walked, she continually tucked strands of her new pixie haircut behind her ear, as if self-conscious about the change. The haircut suited her. The silvery-gray color complemented her fair skin tone, and the cut highlighted her delicate features. It was a big change for Jane, who hadn’t done much to her appearance since her husband died more than a decade ago. It was about time Jane started caring about herself again.
“I’ve got everything ready for you guys.” Claire greeted her friends with a hug and herded them to their seats, where their muffins and coffees—fixed the way she knew they liked them—were laid out. Jane fussed with her hair one more time then smoothed her white-and-navy striped tank top over her navy capri pants before sitting and placing a muffin and coffee mug in front of her.
Maxi plopped down in her chair, took a sip, and let out a sigh. “Ahh, caffeine.”
Maxi was dressed more casually than usual in a yellow-and-white flowing gypsy skirt and loose white top. Instead of thrusting her hair into a bun or a chignon, a style Claire suspected was encouraged by her husband, her blond hair was loose, the silver-tinged strands curling around her shoulders and tucked beneath the wide brim of a straw hat.
“Is James away?” Claire brushed flour off her apron before sitting down. She wasn’t dressed nearly as nicely as her two friends in her usual uniform of frosting-stained apron over her plain gray T-shirt and jeans.
“Yep, conference in Ohio,” Maxi said around a mouthful of muffin.
Claire caught Jane’s raised-brow look from across the table. Maxi’s husband was the president of the Lobster Bay Bank, and Claire and Jane had noticed that Maxi always dressed more casually when he was away. Claire liked James, but she knew that he valued appearances, and casual was simply not a word in his repertoire.
“So how’s everything going with you guys?” Jane asked.
“Great. I’m getting the house in order now that we have an empty nest.” Maxi plastered a smile on her face, but something in her tone told Claire that things might not be that great. Not that Claire would pry. They’d been friends long enough to respect each other’s privacy, and she knew Maxi would open up if she wanted to talk.
“Good here,” Claire said. Forcing herself not to look at the mysterious shop across the street, she took a bite of the chocolate croissant. The dark chocolate filling was decadent enough to soothe her worries about the other shop, not to mention the small water stain she’d spotted in the ceiling of her own. “I’ve hired Sally to do some repairs.”
Like many of the buildings in the village, Sandcastles was quite old. Claire loved the vintage details—the tall tin ceilings, the crown molding, and the wide pine floors. But repairs came along with those. Luckily she ran her business well and had money in the budget for them, a fact of which she was proud.
“She’ll do a good job,” Jane said. “We’ve had her do some things at Tides.”
“How are things going at Tides?” Jane’s family had owned the bed-and-breakfast on the beach for generations. It had been run by her great-grandparents then her grandparents then her parents. Jane’s dad had died long ago, and her mother, Addie, had run it on her own until her recent memory problems had surfaced. Jane had to take an early retirement from her accounting position so she could help out. Claire was never sure if she should ask Jane about Addie. She wanted Jane to know she cared, but she didn’t want to put a damper on the conversation if Addie was having one of her bad days.
“Things were going smoothly this morning. Mom was like her old self.” Jane looked at the watch on her wrist. “Which reminds me, I can’t stay too long. I need to get back to give Brenda a break.”
“Of course.” Maxi looked at Jane with concern. “It’s good that your mom was like her old self.”
Jane nodded, absently breaking a piece off her muffin. She smiled, but Claire could see the worry in her eyes. “Let’s hope it lasts for a while.”
A burst of giggling pulled their attention to the street. A group of teenage girls in cover-ups that barely concealed anything stood on the sidewalk, clearly trying to capture the attention of the teenage boys lingering near the beach store on the corner.
“Reminds you of when we were young, doesn’t it?” Jane’s half smile was wistful.
Maxi rolled her eyes then shoved the rest of the muffin into her mouth, pulled a pencil from her straw bag, and proceeded to sketch onto her napkin. “That was a long time ago.”
Claire nibbled the flaky edge of her croissant. Memories of the three of them as teenagers bubbled up. Of course, the town had changed over the decades but not as much as one would think. Most of the quaint old buildings were still there, and though new houses and restaurants had been built somehow over the years, the town had retained its old-fashioned small-town vibe despite it becoming an increasingly popular tourist destination.
Claire, Jane, and Maxi had grown up there. They’d had a lot of fun as teens, especially in the summer, when the town’s population would swell with tourists.
“Did we ever flirt like that?” Claire asked.
Jane laughed. “They seem a lot more accomplished at it. Do you remember how awkward it was when we were that age?”
Claire couldn’t help but smile. “It wasn’t all bumbling. I remember getting some results.”
Jane smirked. “I seem to remember you getting some results with one of the tourist boys near the cedar tree on the Marginal Way, Claire.”
Claire wrinkled her nose and waved her hand dismissively, avoiding her friend’s eye. “That was so long ago. Who could remember one particular boy?”
But Claire did remember, in a hazy, dreamlike way. The edges of the memory were misty, from a time when she’d brimmed with energy and innocence. It felt impossibly long ago, but she still recalled the hot summer night, the full moon rising over the ocean, and the boy who had given her one of her first kisses on the mile-long path that weaved along the ocean cliffs and led from Perkins Cove to the beach.
It wasn’t like she thought of it often, but sometimes, the memory came up. Odd. With all the boys that had come after, including her ex-husband, she still thought about that one kiss. She didn’t even know who he was. She hadn’t seen him or his friends after that night.
“What was his name?” Jane muttered to herself. “Teddy? Gerry?”
“Bobby,” Claire answered absently, still halfway trapped in that thirty-five-year-old memory.
“So you do remember him.” Maxi glanced over slyly from her drawing.
Claire blushed like she was fifteen again instead of turning fifty come the fall. “I don’t. Not really. I mean, it was thirty-five years ago. I doubt I’d recognize him if we met on the street.”
Brushing her hair out of her narrowed eyes, Maxi looked at Claire like she didn’t believe the stammered excuse.
Claire needed a change of topic. She pointed to the napkin Maxi had been working on. “That’s a great sketch.”
Maxi glanced down and shrugged. “Just a doodle.”
But it wasn’t just a doodle. It showed one of the girls looking up, enraptured, at a boy whose figure was ominously in shadow. The sketch was exquisite and intricately detailed from what Claire could see before Maxi quickly shoved it into her bag.
“I have to get back.” Jane looked apologetic.
Claire jumped up, her chair screeching along the bricks as she stood. She turned to face Jane, who started gathering up the trash on the table.
“Wait here a minute. I’ll get you some muffins for Addie.”
Claire disappeared into the shop. She found the bag she’d set in a corner earlier—not near the back where she suspected the roof leaked—and hurried back out. She passed the bag to Jane as she hugged her. “I know how Addie loves these.”
Jane smiled and clutched her tight. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Claire beamed. “What are friends for?”
She hugged Maxi as well. As she pulled away, her gaze settled on the store across the street again. The teens had moved on, and now she had an unobstructed view. Her smile faded.
Her friends must have noticed because they both turned their gaze in that direction.
“Oh! I forgot to mention, I know who’s moving in over there.” Jane’s tone held a hint of excitement at knowing a secret.
“Really? Who?” Claire tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
“Bradford Breads.”
Claire’s stomach swooped. She snapped her gaze from the store across the street to Jane. “A bakery?”
“It’s not really a bakery,” Jane said. “Not like yours. They only sell bread.”
Claire glanced back at the store. The papered windows seemed to glare at her menacingly. Where had she heard of Bradford Breads before? Weren’t they some sort of chain? Chain stores were always the bane of the small business owner. Better recognition, lower overhead, and therefore, lower prices.
“Claire?” Maxi was staring at her. “Surely you aren’t worried about them. They don’t sell pastries like you do.”
“Yeah,” Jane agreed. “I went to one of the stores up in Bar Harbor years ago. They make good bread but no pastries, and certainly no sandcastle cakes. It’s a totally different product. Besides, no one can hold a candle to your baked goods.”
Her friends were right. She only sold a few types of bread. She was overreacting. She plastered on a smile so her friends wouldn’t worry. “You’re right of course. It’s just a little disturbing that a bakery would move in across the street from another bakery.”
Jane shrugged. “Maybe not. Since you don’t sell bread, it could be a strategic move. Once the customers get their pastries at Sandcastles, they can pick up fresh-baked bread at Bradfords.”
Or skip buying pastries and just get the bread.
Claire pushed the thought away. Now she was being paranoid. “I suppose you’re right. Nothing to worry about at all.”
The response appeared to put her friends at ease, and they left. But as Claire picked up the tray and made her way back into the bakery, she couldn’t suppress that seed of worry that insisted on pushing its way into her thoughts.
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