least they’d taken care of him. Or hired people to. “That had to be rough.”
“It was, at times.” She paused. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my childhood.”
“I do, actually. I want to know everything about you.”
“There isn’t much to know. My mom eventually married a guy and things weren’t much better. He wasn’t a nice man, but he put a nice roof over our heads. Actually, he’s the reason I need to apologize to you.”
“ Apologize ? For what?”
“My stepfather was wealthy and I judged you based on what a horrible human being he was. He was a controlling, manipulative, abusive man who didn’t love my mother. It was wrong of me to compare you to him and I now know you’re nothing like him.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you. It all makes sense, and I don’t blame you for judging me. I’ve seen men like him, associates and friends of my father. It’s really sad.”
“I hate that I still let him affect me like that.”
Colin hated the sadness in her voice. “He sounds like a real asshole, so let’s not waste another second talking about him. Tell me how you became a baker.”
Jilly launched into a story about how she used to play at the shelter on the kid-sized stove, baking all kinds of pretend creations. Then one day, a volunteer took her in the kitchen and showed her how to bake for real. He wondered if it was his grandmother. She’d loved to bake. Jilly knew then it was what she wanted to do with her life. She read every book she could and took every class. Her stepfather’s money had allowed her the privilege of attending a special high school with a culinary program. At least he’d been good for something. She went on to culinary school after that, specializing in pastry arts. She worked for a few different restaurants before opening her own place.
Colin loved how excited Jilly was, talking about her passion. He felt the same way about cars. And was quickly feeling the same way about her.
“So, can I ask? The vegan thing? How’d that come about?”
“We couldn’t really afford meat when I was little and I never really liked it all that much anyway. I was a vegetarian through my teens, partly because it was the cool thing to do, and it really pissed off my stepfather. Then when I was in culinary school, we watched a video about how animals are treated and that was it. I went vegan and never went back.”
“I commend you for that. I really do. But I gotta admit, I love a good steak.”
She laughed. “And that’s fine. I don’t look down on people who eat meat. It’s just not for me. But I’ve talked long enough. It’s your turn for the hot seat.”
“Uh oh. What do you want to know?”
“What job do you have that gets you all dirty and stinky every day?”
“I was hoping you didn’t notice. I was so embarrassed that day, but I got busy at work and had to run over before you closed.”
“I kinda liked it.”
“Then maybe I’ll have to come to the café like that more often.”
“Maybe.” She was smiling again. “So what do you do?”
“I own a vintage car restoration company. The truck I was driving that day, my team did that. I found it in an old barn, rotted and covered in rust.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
“It is. I love it. So much so that I decided to focus on the business and not take over when my dad retires.”
“Wow. That’s a big deal. How did he take it?”
Could Colin admit to Jilly that he hadn’t told him yet? He knew what his father was going to say, the disappointment he’d face. He could already hear the spiel about how this corporation was started generations ago by his great-great grandfather, who’d gotten really lucky in a poker game and started a lumber mill with his winnings. The man had put his blood, sweat, and tears into that company and grew it into what it is today: the biggest real estate development company in the country. How the hell could Colin turn his back on his