She was never going to let that happen again in her professional life, she decided then and there. Cass was right. She was better than that; she deserved better than that. As she chatted to the camera, and bantered with Jake, Miguel, Walter, and Cass, an idea began to take shape. She reached into her pocket and tapped out a text to Priya. It was Christmas Eve—and the Sweet & Salty crew would be together, wrapping the marathon.
Any chance you can get Sasha in front of a screen for a few minutes?
She gave the name of the Woodburn Live.Li channel. A second later, Priya wrote back.
Way ahead of you, friend. We are freaking rapt over here. The entire crew. This is quality entertainment! Like FRIENDS meets a reality baking show.
Charlie smiled and put her phone away, then turned her attention back to the bakery she adored and the people she considered dear friends—and, in the case of Jake, something more. As she picked up a cooled loaf to package up for the party in the town square that night, she felt a deep sense of contentment.
“Hey, wait,” she said to Walter. “How did you even do this? Last I saw, the Woodburn Breads starter was on life support.”
Walter grinned. “That reminds me . . .” He leaned toward the camera and said, “Just a reminder, for all your dog biscuit needs, turn to Top Dog, www.topdog.com. Use code STARLIGHT for free shipping.”
Charlie’s eyebrows raised. “What in the . . . ?”
“I’ll explain it all later,” Walter said. “Meanwhile, keep on packaging! We’re almost there!”
Jake swatted at her good-naturedly with a dish towel as she passed and Charlie threw a handful of flour at him—but half of it got on Cass, who jumped off her stool and tossed some back at her sister.
“Focus, everyone, focus!” Walter called out. Charlie smiled. Walter blossomed under the spotlight, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride over this fact.
She retrieved the next batch of loaves from the oven, breathing in their comforting, spicy-sweet, and yeasty scent. It was the smell of home, family, and everything that was important to her. She glanced over at Cass and saw she was doing the same thing: her twin was just taking it all in.
Charlie made another resolution: she would try to do the same, whenever possible. From now on she was going to take the time to pause in her pursuit of happiness and success and just be happy.
“Only a dozen to go!” Walter sang out and Charlie snapped back to attention and kept working, letting the sense of contentment flow through her as she did.
* * *
? ? ?
Charlie ducked out of the bakery with her cell phone in one hand and the recycling bag in the other. She put down the bag and was about to make the call she had been planning when her phone rang in her hand.
“Sasha! I was just about to call you . . .”
“Great minds,” Sasha said. “Charlie, listen, you have got to give me first crack at producing this show. I mean, this has everything. A built-in fan base—did you see the comments? And last I checked, your views were still skyrocketing. Plus, a good-looking cast, with so much chemistry I nearly went blind from all the sparks. An adorable set, too—that bakery your family owns is beyond charming. Bottom line? I want in.”
Charlie leaned against the outer wall of the bakery, looking up at the sky. The blizzard was over, but there were still small clusters of snow clouds dotted across the gloaming. “Sasha, this is great news. I need to add a few caveats, though. My agent will be in touch about this more formally, but I need you to know, too. First, I’d like to have more control over my own career. I don’t want what I do to always be at the whim of others. And so, I want to be an executive producer, and I need to know there will be no additions to the cast I don’t approve. No antagonistic element, for example. No matter how much you think that works for viewers.”
“Trust me, I’ve had it with antagonistic elements. When I say I want in with this new baking show you’re envisioning, I’m asking in part because I’ve decided to pull out of Bake My Day. I have no interest in working with talent I don’t think is talented! Or total jerks, for that matter.
“It only took one day without you on set to make me realize as much. You are the real deal, Charlie—screw any questionable research the network did that suggested otherwise. I’ve been around long enough to know Austin isn’t going to hold viewers without you there to keep it real. I’m so sorry it took you leaving for me to realize that. I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you right away what I knew about Austin getting the job. I had my reasons, but they weren’t good ones. So, look, I’ve been in talks with some executives from a new streaming service, and this is exactly the kind of content they’re looking for. What do you think of the name Double Sweet?”