“Are you still seeing Svana?”

“No,” he said, looking her square in the eye. “Not for months.”

She nodded as she busied herself adding more bread into the bakery case.

She seemed like she was trying to figure out if she could trust him. He had to admit, she was harsh on herself, using words like uptight and stuck.And he was coming to find that she was like one of those fancy cakes she was always trying to perfect. Every time he talked with her, he found she had more and more layers. Complicated. And far more interesting than he liked to admit.

“Can I get you a sandwich?” she asked, moving on to safer subjects. “I make a killer hummus and veggie on rustic loaf.”

Before he could answer, Tessa’s mom walked out of the back room.

“Leo,” Joanna said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Thanks for coming by. Can I show you what I need moved in the back room?”

“You came to help my mother?” Tessa asked.

He answered that by lifting a brow as if to say, What’s wrong with that? Did she still think that he was going to make good on his threat about charging her interest? Which he’d just said because he was desperate, anyway.

“I’ll just keep him a minute or two,” Joanna said, taking his arm and purposefully steering him to the back.

He followed her through the oven room to a small room full of boxes. It also contained extra bread racks and giant sacks of flour. Not to mention a battered old table and two large, very solid-looking doors made of dark wood leaning against the wall.

“These are the original front doors to the bakery,” Tessa’s mother said. “They weigh a ton. Could you maybe haul them out? They’re so heavy, I thought you might bring your friend Jack and move them out for us.”

“Sure, no problem.” Leo walked over to examine the doors. They were paneled and made of solid wood, probably walnut. Stained a dark color and clearly weather-battered. But they had a nice grain. “Nice craftsmanship,” he said.

“They’re over a hundred years old—a part of the bakery’s history. It’s a shame we can’t use them anywhere.”

“They are beautiful,” Leo said, running his hand along the surface. “Or at least, with some TLC, they could be again.”

“Tessa asked me to clear out this room so that she could store some baking things back here. She’s asked me again for a shelf for her pastries, but between you and me…” She looked around surreptitiously and closed the door. “I think it would be better for her if she started her own business. Our bakery is a traditional boulangerie—it’s never carried sweets in its entire history, and one shelf certainly isn’t going to make her any money.”