Page 32 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

RAINEY

Four years later

“ W atch it. Hot buns out of the oven,” I shout to my employee, Isabella, who’s rolling dough on the opposite side of me.

I am placing the searing cookie sheet on the metal table.

The cream cheese drizzle is the right consistency for the cinnamon buns.

With a spatula, I spread it evenly, and every damn time, my mouth waters.

The thirty different flavors of cookies are all baked and ready for display.

I walk into the dining area and glance at the newly decorated bakery.

Maroon-and-white paint coats the walls, giving it a welcoming vibe.

A portrait of my mom hangs on the walls when she won a Food Network challenge for the best macaroons.

She smiles widely, her beautiful brown hair shoulder-length, and next to her is Duff Goldman. He was one of the judges.

“I miss her. She was always such a kind woman. She lit up when she cooked and baked,” Isabella says in her accent. Isabella started working with my mom four years ago and became close friends with her.

“Me too. I think about her every damn day.” Mom passed away a year ago.

When she became ill with cancer, I dropped out of school to care for her.

She fought me the whole time. Someone needed to watch her and keep an eye on the bakery.

Besides, the nurses Dad tried to hire were not too friendly during the interview.

She clears her throat and rubs my back. “Your mom would be so proud of you, honey. Look at this place you created. You made her dream come true by opening a café in Las Vegas.”

I wipe a rolling tear. I closed her bakery in Carson City a couple of months after she passed.

She had planned on opening her bakery here in Vegas when my dad moved them out to be closer to the doctors she was seeing.

She searched for the perfect building, but her cancer progressed, and she stopped fighting.

I can’t say she stopped fighting because she fought for three years.

It’s me who wished she fought harder, but that would be unfair. She was tired.

My mom wanted me to go back to school, but my dream no longer filled my heart with joy. Living my mom’s dream is more fulfilling. “Thank you for being here, Isabella. You are such a lifesaver.”

Isabella brings me into her motherly embrace. She’s warm and just what I need—a hug from the woman I love so much. She’s pure kindness. “I’m always here for you, mija .”

I believe her. She’s helped me transform this café into not just any ordinary bakery, but a bookstore as well.

Isabella came up with a great idea to bring a little bit of Mexican flavor into my bakery by serving pan dulce, and I thought, well, I can serve my mom’s favorite soups and sandwiches as well.

“Enough crying, let’s get the doors open,” I tell her, looking around the shop and peering at the books on the shelf. My mom loved reading, and I was lucky she passed that knowledge on to me.

I flip the sign to open and unlock doors, and a couple of people waltz in with a smile on their beautiful faces. “Hey, gorgeous.” Andrew, my long-time friend since we were in middle school, walks in. He plants a wet kiss on my cheek. “The place looks amazing.”

“Thank you. How about a treat?” I offer him.

His broad smile has me chuckling. Andrew is indeed a handsome man. He finished law school and is a business partner with my father.

“I’d love to be your first customer. How about a red velvet cookie or cupcake?”

I grab him a peanut butter cookie instead. Something about red velvet takes me back to a place I buried under a rusted floorboard. “Here you go. These are to die for. Nice and sweet.”

“Sweet, just like you.” He laughs when I roll my eyes at him. He takes a bite. “You’re right. These are good. You’ve always been a great cook,” he says, taking his wallet out.

I shake my head at him. “On the house.”

He tosses a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

“I said I wanted to be your first paying customer.” He licks the crumbs on his lips.

“How about we celebrate with dinner tonight?” He steps aside, waiting for my response.

We’ve danced to this tune for too long. Andrew has always had a crush on me.

I’ve only seen him as a long-time friend.

“I don’t know…maybe next time.”

He frowns childishly. “Oh, come on, Rainey. Have a nice dinner with me. You deserve it. You’ve been through so much this year.” He takes the last bite of his cookie. “It’s not like it’s a date. Just two friends having dinner. Or unless you want it to be a date.”

I don’t miss his cocky tone. Andrew is one of those guys who has women falling at his feet.

He was that jock all the girls wanted to date, especially in college, playing football.

He’s getting irritated because I’m not one of those girls he’s used to.

Since my mom passed, he’s been trying a little harder.

Maybe it’s because he’s been there for me this whole time, and we’ve spent more time together.

Especially now that he works at my dad’s law firm.

I sigh. “Okay, dinner.”

He taps his hand on the counter. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“See you then,” I respond with a tight smile.

He leans to kiss the corner of my lips and strides out with a pep in his step.

“Something about him gives me a rash,” Isabella whispers. “Could be because he’s a spoiled brat.”

I shake my head at her, laughing, and attend to my customers. The amount of people coming in has my heart bursting—a long line forms at the door. The drizzle of rain outside has patrons coming in for a warm treat.

The day went by smoothly, better than I expected.

Books were flying off the shelf, and we sold out of all cookies, cinnamon buns, macaroons, conchas, and other sweet bread.

We sold a couple of sandwiches and my mom’s special chili bean recipe.

I think it was a success. The only problem is that I need to hire at least two extra people.

It was a tad overwhelming, and Isabella is a fast worker, but she is in her mid-fifties, and I don’t want to overwork her.

“Hey, girly girl.” Lana walks in with a beautiful smile.

“So tell me, how did your day go? I’m sorry I wasn’t here when the doors opened.

” She leans in to hug me. Lana graduated from college a year and a half ago.

She has been my ride-or-die through the years, especially the times when living became painful, and I became a soulless corpse.

“Don’t worry about it. You have a job to be at.”

She follows me to the kitchen and leans against the stainless-steel prep tables.

“I wanted to be here for you. This is big, Rainey. You’ve opened your first café.” She waves her hand around. “You opened a place in Vegas. Like, wow. I’m so damn proud of you. You deserve this. Your mom would be so proud of you?—”

“Would she, though? I know she will be, but she wanted me to return to college and finish becoming a psychologist. She said she didn’t want me to live her dream.”

Lana lays her hand on my shoulder. “Are you living her dream?” Her eyes water. “Your mom would be proud, regardless.”

She doesn’t call me out on it, but she knows I’m living my mom’s dream because I don’t have the energy to pursue mine—more like the motivation is no longer there.

It’s easier to pretend. Although, yes, I love to bake, and I love the café.

There’s always that missing piece in me that robs me of living.

When you pay the price of loving someone, you can’t have a constant ache in your heart that reminds you of it. It’s only a sweet, bitter reminder.

Lana changes the subject by adding. “So, what do you have left? I’m hungry.”

“I can make you a sandwich if you’d like. I’m out of cookies,” I offer, taking my apron off and hanging it on the rack on the wall.

“Here, I can help. Will you have one with me?”

Slicing a fresh loaf of bread in half, I answer her. “I would, but I agreed to go out to dinner with Andrew tonight.”

She grins and walks to the fridge, taking out a jar of mayo. “He’s getting more determined to make you his girl.”

I groan. “He’s wasting his time.”

She smears mayo on the bread and then peers at me. “You don’t know unless you give it a shot. What do you have to lose? Nothing. If anything, have him get you off—tongue, finger, or dick. Anything helps,” she says nonchalantly.

“I’m not using him. I don’t want to hurt him.”

She snorts, walks to the fridge, puts the mayo back, and grabs lunch meat and sliced cheese.

“He’s not going to get hurt, and if he does, so what?

It serves him right. He broke a lot of hearts in high school.

So he says he’s changed but give it a shot.

If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. ”

She makes it sound so simple, like walking into Costco and sampling different foods they have to offer. “You know I’m not capable of loving anyone again. I’ve done that, been there, and I will never give my heart to anyone again.”

Lana takes a mean bite of her sandwich, popping her hip against the table.

“My beautiful Rainey. I don’t know when or if you will ever feel complete.

It’s been four years since it all happened.

I know it’s going to take time, but someday, you will be able to.

For now, enjoy Andrew’s company as just friends, hell, or even friends with benefits.

If not him, someone else. Just take baby steps.

I know I sound like a broken record. It’s just that I want my friend back.

” Her eyes soften. “You’re still having a hard time with your mom’s loss, which is understandable.

But…in recent years, you haven’t taken time for yourself.

You’ve kept yourself busy caring for your mom and helping her with the bakery. You really haven’t had time until now.”