Julia Harper hurried into the kitchen at The Lighthouse Inn, the scent of coffee strong in her nose. Thankfully. “Maddy,” she said, not even looking for the woman. “Olive Rune just said there are no more cheese danishes.” She reached for the coffee pot but frowned at how empty it was.
She looked up and around the cavernous kitchen. She and Maddy had worked like dogs to get The Lighthouse Inn open in only a couple of months, and their reviews had been strong and steady since. They’d been open less than a month, but their rooms—the inn only had five—had booked quickly, and they currently didn’t have any reservations until springtime available.
“Maddy?
She wasn’t in the kitchen, which was odd for breakfast service. Huffing, Julia spotted the cheese danish pastries on the stainless steel co
