Monday came faster than Lena expected, bringing a gray sky and a tight knot in her stomach. She woke early, staring at the ceiling while thoughts raced through her mind. The petition was strong. The town was behind her. But the board meeting at Harper Holdings would decide everything.
Walker was already downtown prepping for it, and she hated not being there.
Instead, she opened the bakery as usual, hiding her nerves behind a smile and a fresh tray of raspberry scones. Ava, as always, saw right through her.
"You look like a woman pretending not to be pacing inside," Ava said as she poured coffee.
Lena sighed. "I wish I knew what was happening in that boardroom."
Ava nudged a scone toward her. "Eat something. You're no good to anyone on an empty stomach."
Lena nibbled at it, barely tasting the berries. The minutes ticked by like hours.
At 10:17 a.m., her phone buzzed. A text from Walker.
> Call you soon. Hold on.
No explanation. No details. Just those few words. She stared at the screen for what felt like forever.
Finally, at 11:02, her phone rang.
She snatched it up. "Walker?"
His voice was calm, but there was something else in it—relief.
"We held the vote," he said. "I used the clause. Froze the acquisition plans. Madeline was furious, but the board couldn't override it—not without a full vote, and three members abstained."
Lena blinked. "So… we have time?"
"Thirty days. Officially. But unofficially?" He paused. "I think we scared them. They weren't expecting backlash. Or headlines. Your petition? It's being talked about in the business section this morning."
She laughed, half in disbelief. "We did it."
"No," he said gently. "You did it. You reminded them this isn't just a building—it's a part of people's lives."
Her chest swelled with something deeper than pride. She had always seen herself as small, as the girl who stayed quiet, who baked in the shadows of others. But now?
She was standing up. And standing out.
"I want to be there for the next meeting," she said. "Not just waiting on the sidelines."
"You'll have a seat next to me," Walker promised. "You're part of this fight now."
After she hung up, she stood in the middle of the bakery, suddenly aware of every familiar scent and worn surface. She reached out and ran her hand along the counter her father had built, grounding herself.
When the lunch crowd rolled in, Lena wore her apron like armor.
Later that afternoon, Walker walked through the door. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled, tie loosened. But his smile—his smile was everything.
Lena crossed the bakery without thinking and wrapped her arms around him. For a long second, they just held each other.
"I don't want to lose this," she whispered. "Any of it. You. The bakery. What we've built."
"Then we won't," he said. "We'll keep fighting. Together."
He kissed her then—not rushed, not uncertain—but like a man who knew exactly what he wanted.
And for once, Lena didn't doubt what came next.
Because the recipe was finally coming together.
And the best was still to rise.