Page 249 of A Taste of Vanilla

“We should talk in the back,” I say quietly.

“No. What did you do?”

My eyes drop. “I contacted them after seeing the email.”

“I heard.”

I close my eyes. “I talked to two alternate suppliers to see if there was a chance I could fix it.”

“What else?”

“Your dairy vendor.”

I sigh. “I emailed a commercial attorney to review your lease.”

She shifts her weight.

“Excuse me?”

My eyes sting. “Your lease has some issues that could lead to your bakery shutting down for an undetermined amount of time.”

“You sent my lease to an attorney?”

“I was going to ask you?—”

“When?” She throws her arms up. “And why are you going through my paperwork, Warren?”

“I just wanted to be helpful,” I say, but I can feel my heart sinking as I say it.

Because sometimes my need to be useful comes before anything else, and it’s becoming abundantly clear that I fucked up.

So I confess the last thing.

“I contacted another commercial kitchen.”

The color leaves her face. “You what?” she seethes.

I close my eyes. “I wanted you to know there was a solution to the problem before telling you. It would only have been an emergency backup.”

“For my kitchen?”

“If something happened?—”

“My kitchen?”

I step toward her before I can stop myself, and she takes a step back.

I stop.

“You tried to find another kitchen for me?”

“As a contingency,” I say, but even I can hear how bad it sounds on my tongue.

“For the business I own?”

I nod. “I wanted options?—”

“For who?”