It was always an issue in spots like these. The warm climates attracted retirees. Somehow that also meant slightly more expensive homes than the norm. Amy herself couldn’t have afforded a home. Maybe at one time, but after the economy collapsed, home ownership was outside of her reach. She wondered if Frank had a house. He did own his own business.
She found the shop on the main drag and parked two blocks away. She was being paranoid but she didn’t want him to see her car. It would make her easier to follow. She walked the two blocks to the shop, smiling at people as she passed. More than one man looked her up and down as she walked. It helped to put a little pep in her step.
Amy had put on an extra ten pounds over the last year. The downside to being a writer was the sedentary lifestyle. She made sure to get out for walks with Max and Karen and that helped somewhat. The extra weight must not have made much difference if she was still turning men’s heads. She’d worn tight jeans and a V-neck sweater for the occasion. It was just cool enough for a light sweater and this one was one of her favorite items of clothing. The shade of pink set off her dark red hair and green eyes perfectly.
There was a very nice Mercedes parked in front of the shop. She took a minute to admire the vehicle. She wasn’t into cars or anything, but this one was slick. It had dark-tinted windows and was shining like it had just been washed and waxed. Whoever owned it really took care of their vehicle, or they could afford to pay someone to take care of it.
Nerves hit her hard when she put her hand on the door handle. She paused to take a deep breath. He was just a man, she reminded herself. He didn’t even know who she was, so there was no pressure. When she opened the door, the smell of coffee and pastries helped ease her mood. The store was so warm and inviting. There were little tables near the window, and two comfy chairs. The entire front by the cash register was dominated by a dessert case. There were no sandwiches on the menu at Frank’s Treats. This was her favorite kind of pastry shop.
Her mouth watered looking at everything. There were the brownies that Karen had brought her and so much more. According to Frank’s menu, the donuts were his best seller and a customer favorite. She would get a dozen for Karen’s family. The coffee smelled good too. She was glad she had brought her laptop. This was a perfect place to get some editing done. There were only three other customers in the shop. Mother, daughter, and son-in-law, if she had to guess. The two women looked similar, but the guy didn’t really match either of them. He was both too old to be the daughter’s boyfriend and too young for the mother. He also looked like a badass biker while the ladies were both clean-cut.
She rang the bell for service after making up her mind. To her surprise, the man with the women stood up and walked over.
“Made up your mind?” he asked her pleasantly.
It was him. The biker was Frank! She was completely thrown and couldn’t think of anything to say. He looked very different from his picture. Not in a bad way, but it was surprising. In his photo, he had been clean-shaven. Now he was sporting an impressive beard. His eyes and smile were the same, though. And he was big. Huge. Amy was no petite woman, standing 5'9" without heels. But the man behind the counter towered over her. And he was so wide. Her first thought had been biker but her second was Viking.
“Miss?” He looked at her expectantly. When she continued to stare, he tried again, moving his hands as he spoke. “Can I help you?”
The hand movements were familiar. “Was that sign language?”
He laughed. “Yes, it was. I thought you might be deaf. I know it’s harder to read my lips with the facial hair.”
Amy’s eyes went right to his full lips, which were easily visible under his bushy beard. She looked him up and down and couldn’t help but smile. “No. I just…forgot what I wanted.”
“Oh, no problem. There’s a lot to choose from. I’ve been stress baking.”
“Good for us,” the younger woman at the table said. She raised her giant cookie in Amy’s direction. “Everything here is great. Whenever Frank gets stressed, the entire town gets a treat.”
“You bake these all yourself?” Amy was impressed. There were hundreds of items in the case. The independent bakery she frequented at home only had a few options in the case. You had to special-order most items and even then, the inventory was small.
Frank nodded proudly. “I did. I’m a one-man show, usually. I do have to call in reinforcements for the holidays, though. I never want to turn anyone away, but I get a lot of orders.”
“Your hair is so gorgeous,” the older woman at the table said.