Sweet Harmony by Ellie Noor

“Thanks for coming, Rye. I know this is early for you.”

“This is important.” Riley bites into the gingerbread and lets out a blissful sigh. “Mmm… just the right amount of spice.”

She cradles the mug in both hands, inhaling deeply.

I know that look, and instinctively brace for whatever she’s going to say.

“You won’t forget me when you make it big, will you? If I have to keep sharing you, I’m afraid there won’t be anything left just for me.”

Her fear comes out the way it always does—half joke, half confession—and I respond the way I always do.

With humor.

Not because I want to minimize her feelings. She has good reason to feel the way she does. But if I take her words too seriously, we’ll spill over into territory that neither one of us can handle at six o’clock in the morning. Not when we have something important planned five minutes from now.

So I stick my tongue out instead.

“Judging by the way my Instagram numbers jumped overnight, that might just be a possibility.” I wait a beat, then tone it down a notch just to be on the safe side. “Joking aside, it’s wild, considering I came in second.”

“I think America is affronted on your behalf.”

I almost snort. “Maybe they’re sympathy likes. Anyway, the winner deserved it.”

“Only you would be genuinely glad for someone else winning when we both know you needed that first place prize money for a refurb and the rent increase. What a wagon that Mrs. Wallace is, serving a rent increase to the bakery and the bookstore and who knows how many other businesses.”

Wagon. This time I snort for real. “You are so Irish, you know that?”

Riley gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you came in second. You deserved to win.”

“It’s okay. Someone on the show told me that contestants who come in second are often more popular than the winners and, you know what, they might be right because… ” I pull my cell phone out of my apron. “My inbox has been blowing up.”

“Oh..?”

“Listen to this. A cruise line wants me for a holiday residency next year. Live baking demonstrations while influencers sip champagne. Can you imagine?”

Riley starts picking at her sweater. “On a ship like… on the open seas?”

“No, ‘fraidy cat. They operate on the Hudson, the Mississippi, and other rivers. But that’s not all.” I scroll through more emails. “There’s a seasonal TV show, an invitation to teach at a new culinary institute and, wait for it, an offer to consult on a script for a Hallmark show about a baker. I haven’t even looked at the rest, and there are a dozen more since I last che—”

“Clara.” Riley’s mug lands on the table with a soft thud. “These are big-time offers.”

I don’t even try to stop myself from pulling a face.

“I know right?”

“It’s not surprising, though. You were definitely the fan favorite, and that smile of yours at the end…”

“Crying on national TV wouldn’t have fit my brand.” I laugh softly as I bite into my own gingerbread slice. A personal victory, considering half the town showed up at the community center to watch the finale last night. “Besides, I was genuinely happy for the winner.”