NINE
Hartley
I finish orderingthe last of the new kitchen equipment. Ordering two mixers and a new oven have left a big dent in my savings account, and I can’t look at my bank account balance without wincing now. At least all of my big ordering is done.
The lights should be delivered in the next few days and the tables and chairs are already here. It will probably take Eli and me another day or two to put together all of those.
It’s getting late and Eli should be here any minute to help me with the second coat of paint. I painted the kitchen area this morning before I came up here for lunch and to work on some new recipes.
I put on some old clothes and lock my apartment door behind me before I head downstairs to unlock the bakery. I’m just turning on the lights when Eli’s black truck pulls up out front.
I smile and wave at him as he climbs out. When I see the pizza boxes in his hand, I almost weep.
“Oh, you’re the best fake boyfriend ever,” I say, holding the door open for him.
“I aim to please,” he says with a smile as he heads past me and into the kitchen.
I’m right at his heels and I practically dive on the pizza as soon as he sets it down.
“Hungry?” Eli jokes and I nod, shoving another bite of the cheesy goodness into my mouth.
“Starving! I haven’t eaten in a few hours,” I admit.
Eli frowns at that statement but lets it slide as he grabs his own slice of pizza.
“It looks nice in here. Did you paint this morning?” he asks as he nods to the kitchen walls.
“Yeah,” I say, rolling my shoulders back to try to ease the ache in my sore muscles.
“Without me?” Eli jokes, looking wounded.
“Sorry,” I say with a laugh. “I didn’t think you would mind too much.”
“What else are you going to do in here?” he asks and I look over to see the empty space where the industrial mixers will go and where the other oven will go.
“I ordered the last of the equipment today. Hopefully the mixers and new oven will be here this Friday. The lights should be here any day now and the new display cases will be here this weekend.”
“Then you’ll be ready to open up?” he asks, grabbing another slice of pizza.
“Almost. I need to figure out a name, nail down the menu, order boards to write the menu on and order a sign for out front and maybe for the front window.”
“Oh, is that all?” Eli asks, looking shocked.
“Then, I’ll need to plan the grand opening, set up some advertising and social media pages, and a website.”
“I guess I never realized how much work went into opening a new place. I went the easy route and just took over once it was already established.”
I laugh as I grab a second slice of pizza and look around the kitchen.
“It looks good in here though. Right?” I ask.
“Yeah, totally,” Eli says, eyeing me as he finishes off his slice.
Doubts have started creeping in more and more. I mean, part of me thought it was crazy to move across country and start my own bakery, but I was motivated by honoring my grams and finally fulfilling our dream.
Now that I’m here, alone, spending most of my savings, I’m starting to have second thoughts.
What if I fail? What do I do then? Find some job working as a line cook or cashier in some café here in town? I wouldn’t have enough money to move again. How awkward would it be to fail and then have to see everyone in town every day?