“Of course you don’t understand, Brett.” Charlie’s voice was thick with frustration. “This sort of thing is beyond your comprehension. All you understand is this small life, and this small town. You think this place is perfect, and what you don’t understand is that it’s possible for people to want more than just a predictable life in a predictable place. You don’t think it’s possible for people to outgrow each other, to maybe even outgrow where they’re from and want more. You just want us to stay here, never change, never be anything except who everyone in Starlight Peak thinks we are. I’m so tired of it! Don’t you understand that? I’m sick and tired of seeing your face every single time I turn around—and I want you to leave me alone.”

Her face was partially obscured because she had turned slightly, but Brett’s was in focus at this point, and the camera picked up every nuance of his anguish. Damn it. This was bad. Not only had she told off Brett, she had insulted everyone in Starlight Peak, a town full of people with a very deep sense of loyalty and affection for the place. You didn’t call Starlight Peak small and boring and not expect there to be consequences. Besides, it wasn’t how she really felt about her hometown, and she felt terrible for saying it.

Charlie started fiddling with the program’s settings, looking for a way to take the video down and permanently delete it. But nothing she tried worked. Walter would know, but she didn’t want to call him in on his day off.

Finally, she gave up trying to delete the video and closed the program. She put her head in her hands for a moment. She could not fix this. Not right now. She had damaged the bakery’s reputation and failed at handling Cass’s life the way her sister had asked her to. What was done was done. But she could try to make it right from now on.

She picked up the sheath of orders she still had to deal with and started sorting them. For four more days, until the swap was over, Charlie would focus only on the things she could control. She would stop worrying about Austin and Sweet & Salty and trust that Cass had it under control—the way Cass was trusting her to keep things under control at home. She would busy herself filling outstanding orders, be friendly to everyone who came in the bakery, and do her part to streamline things at Woodburn so when Cass returned the family business would have a decent chance of staying afloat if Makewell’s did indeed move into town. To that end, she linked the bakery’s e-mail—because at least Cass was not so stuck in the past that the bakery didn’t even use e-mail—to the website she had created and started working on an online order form. By the time she was done, a few customers had started to arrive. She was careful to keep the friendly smile on her face as she packaged up orders and rang up tallies.