Chapter 4 : The Man Behind the Signature
978 Words
By Thursday morning, Sweet Haven Bakery had transformed into a war zone.
Flour covered half the kitchen.
Order sheets were scattered everywhere.
And Emily had somehow managed to get frosting in her hair.
Again.
“How?”
Tamara stared at her.
Emily looked genuinely confused.
“I don’t know.”
“You literally work with frosting every day.”
“I know.”
“So how does it keep ending up in your hair?”
Emily considered the question.
Then shrugged.
“Talent?”
Tamara groaned.
From across the room, Mia laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee.
“Honestly, at this point, it should be part of the uniform.”
Emily looked offended.
“This is workplace bullying.”
“It’s workplace observation.”
The bakery filled with laughter.
For the first time in weeks, Tamara felt normal.
Not heartbroken.
Not overwhelmed.
Just… normal.
Unfortunately, life had developed a habit of ruining those moments.
The bell above the door chimed.
The laughter died instantly.
Because Daniel Carter had just walked in.
Mia’s smile disappeared.
Emily slowly put down a tray.
Tamara closed her eyes.
Of course.
Of course he was here.
Daniel hesitated near the entrance.
As if he understood exactly how unwelcome he was.
Good.
He should.
“What do you want?” Mia asked.
Straight to the point.
As always.
Daniel looked at Tamara.
“I came to talk.”
“No.”
Tamara didn’t even glance up from the invoice she was reading.
Daniel blinked.
“No?”
“No.”
“Tamara—”
“No.”
Mia looked proud.
Emily looked impressed.
Daniel looked miserable.
Excellent.
A wonderful start to the morning.
“Can we have five minutes?”
Tamara finally looked at him.
Really looked at him.
The dark circles beneath his eyes.
The tension in his shoulders.
The regret he wasn’t bothering to hide anymore.
Three weeks ago, seeing him like this would’ve broken her heart.
Now?
Now it just made her tired.
“You already had eight years.”
The words landed softly.
But Daniel still flinched.
“You don’t get another five minutes.”
Silence.
Pain flashed across his face.
Real pain.
Tamara noticed.
She simply refused to let it matter.
Eventually, Daniel nodded.
“Okay.”
His voice was quiet.
Defeated.
“I’ll wait.”
Then he left.
The door closed behind him.
Emily immediately dropped onto a chair.
“Oh my God.”
Mia pointed toward the door.
“That’s exactly how people should treat their exes.”
Tamara laughed despite herself.
“You’re impossible.”
“Correct.”
⸻
Two hours later, the bakery received an email.
An invitation.
A presentation request from Harrison Holdings.
Emily nearly screamed.
Mia actually screamed.
Tamara regretted telling either of them.
“This is huge!”
Emily bounced excitedly.
“Like… huge huge.”
Mia grabbed the printed email.
“Harrison Holdings.”
She narrowed her eyes dramatically.
“Sounds rich.”
“It is rich.”
“How rich?”
Emily immediately answered.
“Private jet rich.”
“Oh.”
Mia paused.
“That’s disrespectful.”
“What is?”
“Nobody should have that much money.”
Tamara shook her head.
“Can we focus?”
“No.”
Emily pointed at the signature.
“Who’s Guy Harrison?”
Mia leaned closer.
“That sounds attractive.”
“That’s a name.”
“Exactly.”
Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose.
She was surrounded by idiots.
Lovable idiots.
But still.
Idiots.
⸻
The following afternoon, Tamara arrived at Harrison Holdings.
And immediately wanted to leave.
The building was ridiculous.
Everything about it screamed money.
The lobby alone probably cost more than her house.
Which, considering current circumstances, wasn’t comforting.
A receptionist greeted her warmly.
“Miss Joseph?”
Tamara nodded.
“This way, please.”
As they entered the elevator, Tamara checked her reflection.
Professional.
Presentable.
Calm.
Or at least pretending to be.
The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor.
The receptionist led her toward a conference room.
Then stopped.
“Mr. Harrison will be with you shortly.”
The words shouldn’t have made her nervous.
Yet somehow they did.
The door opened.
Tamara stepped inside.
And immediately realized she wasn’t alone.
A woman stood near the windows.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Effortlessly sophisticated.
The kind of woman who probably never spilled coffee on herself.
Or cried over men who didn’t deserve it.
The woman turned.
A polite smile appeared.
“You’re from Sweet Haven?”
Tamara nodded.
“Yes.”
The woman extended a hand.
“Chloe Bennett.”
Something about her smile felt practiced.
Perfectly measured.
Like a photograph.
“Tamara Joseph.”
“You’re younger than I expected.”
The comment sounded harmless.
Yet something about it rubbed Tamara the wrong way.
Before she could respond, the conference room door opened again.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
A man walked in.
Tall.
Composed.
Impossibly confident.
His dark suit fit perfectly.
His expression gave nothing away.
And somehow every person in the room became aware of him the second he entered.
Guy Harrison.
The man behind the signature.
The man behind the invitation.
The man whose name had appeared out of nowhere and somehow become important.
His gaze moved across the room.
First Chloe.
Then Tamara.
For the briefest second, his eyes lingered.
Not long enough to mean anything.
Not short enough to go unnoticed.
Then he took his seat.
Professional.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
“Miss Joseph.”
His voice was calm.
Deep.
The kind people listened to without meaning to.
Tamara straightened.
“Mr. Harrison.”
Something flickered in Chloe’s eyes.
Gone before anyone could identify it.
“Let’s begin.”
Outside the glass walls of the conference room, the city continued moving.
Inside, neither Tamara nor Guy realized they had just stepped into a story far more complicated than either of them expected.
- Writer
