The Billionaire’s Burden(5)

Honestly, I also wasn't even sure if they’d be happy about it. They’d so loved their small but ample client base before their passing. They'd so loved getting to know the parents who always brought in their children, or the elderly man from around the corner who always requested a slice of cheesecake.

It was their stories and their personalities that added to the homeliness and popularity of the bakery.

Now, the shop was just like all of those other stores. There were too many customers to care about their individual needs. It was all so cold and calculated.

Had I made the right choice by allowing Sebastian and Alissa to renovate?

I snuck in the back door, listening to the loud chatter resonating from the main entrance of the shop. Alissa had extended the walls for more room, but even still, the people were packed in like a tin of sardines.

"Ma'am," An alarmed voice came from a young female cashier turning the corner, "I'm sorry but you can't come in that way."

"Excuse me?" I began, confused.

"Lucy." Another voice interrupted, a man joining the girl quickly, "That's Mrs. Davis. She can use any door she wants." He murmured, shooing the young clerk back to her stand.

The people in my own bakery didn't even know me.

My heart panged painfully, though my avoidance of this place hadn't helped very much. If I came around more, perhaps I'd be better known.

"I'm so sorry about that, Mrs. Davis." The man said quickly, approaching me and extending a hand to shake, "It won't happen again."

I'd seen the tall blond manager a few times when I'd stopped by, though never spoke to him. I could only be sure of his competence, seeing how well things were run around the shop.

He stood taller than me, his shoulders square and jaw strong. Cinnamon freckles dotted his fair face.

"Macy." I replied, abruptly aware of my awkward staring, "Call me Macy."

Being called by the Davis name made my stomach twist in a strange way.

"I'm Lewis Carson." He added, smile parting his lips over sparkly white teeth. Twin dimples burst in his cheeks as he shook my hand, "Can I show you around a bit?"

"I'd love that." I exclaimed, following him from the back office where I used to sleep, the old cot long gone, into the kitchen.

Though the kitchen and main hall used to connect, a thick wall had been constructed to separate it.

Memories of my mother chatting with patrons while frosting cookies fluttered to the surface. That would never happen again, I realized, biting my lip.

"What do you think?" Lewis asked, gesturing towards the sparkling, state of the art equipment.

The old machinery, too temperamental and too sentimental, had no doubt been tossed to the curb. Again my soul panged.

"Is it not to your liking?" the blond said with a frown, eyes quickly studying the ovens and mixers. This was the best equipment he'd ever been able to work with, it was basically space age stuff in these walls.

"No, it's fine. Just thinking back to when my parents were here. It’s hard not to compare…" I finally said, doing my best to work up a smile for him.

It was obvious he wanted to please me, or at least he wanted to make sure a good report went back to my husband.

"I heard it was a real nice place." Lewis offered, though I wasn't sure if he was being serious or just polite. I doubted any of the people in the building had visited it when it was owned by my parents.

"It was." I responded, "It was so different. It's basically a completely different place now."

"You should see the books." The manager offered, goofy grin once more on his lips, "Sales are doing great."

"I heard you were making us a lot of money." I replied civilly, nodding my head.

I wish it was that simple.

Glancing around, Lewis lightly took my elbow and led me back into the office. Shutting the door, he gestured for me to sit down at the desk. Though at one time red notices overdue bills scattered across the rickety wood, it was now neatly organized with binders.

I watched as Lewis grabbed a spiral notebook, flitting through the pages and snagging a pen.

"What can we do to improve?" He asked earnestly, emerald green eyes studying my face, "We have our mother's recipes on file, though we did tweak them a bit for efficiency. What about new uniforms for the cashiers? Something perky, like mint and pink?"

Lewis was more like Sebastian than I'd realized, always with business on the mind.

With a sad laugh, I shook my head, "No. It's nothing like that. I just miss what my parent's built." I shrugged, averting my gaze, "It's very silly."

"That's not silly at all." Lewis replied softly, "I'm sorry that we've skewed your vision. It obviously means so much to you."