WHISKING IT ALL
Rated T
Summary: Kate Beckett is a rising star in her Manhattan law firm. But when she inherits a struggling bakery in a small Connecticut town, she's faced with a decision that could change the course of her entire life. A Castle Summer Ficathon 2021 entry.
CHAPTER ONE
"Are you sure you don't want to reschedule Monday's appointments?"
Kate Beckett shook her head, her fingers picking at a stray piece of lint on her trousers. "No, I already have my ticket to come home tomorrow," she told her assistant, her phone pressed to her ear. She ignored the dirty looks a few other passengers were sending her way; she had seen the "No Phone Calls" sign, but she couldn't afford to ignore work for four hours.
She glared at an older woman across the aisle, then scoffed when the woman gave her a disappointed shake of her head. "I'll let you know if anything changes, but I doubt it will. This should be an easy, straightforward weekend."
She shifted her gaze out the window when she hung up and watched as the snowy landscape flew by. Thanks to her tireless work ethic, long hours, and very little sleep, she'd made partner in her corporate law firm in near-record time, becoming the second-youngest partner in her firm's long history. As a result, she'd had no time off in seven years, not since a brief vacation to celebrate graduating law school, and the passing views were almost foreign to her.
With a loud sigh, she pulled a thick manila folder from the bag between her feet, opened it on her lap, and began reading about Connecticut estate laws.
A few hours later she was on the road, overnight bag in the trunk of her rental car, her briefcase next to her in the passenger seat. The small town of Southbridge was just an hour outside Hartford, but the closer she got, the more it began to feel like a different country. The trees grew progressively larger and thicker, the snow on the side of the highway deeper, and although the pavement was clear, she was grateful that she'd rented a four-wheel-drive car. The last thing she needed was to get stuck in town because her car couldn't move.
As she got closer to the town she began to recognize landmarks from almost fifteen years before, the last time she'd visited her aunt. She'd been a gangly teenager then, all legs and attitude, and hated almost every minute of the three weeks spent helping Aunt Theresa at her bakery.
Now, Kate mused as she crossed the old covered bridge that acted as the town's namesake, she was returning to see what fate had in store for the shop after her aunt's passing.
The bed and breakfast that was to provide her overnight lodging was on the far end of town, so she drove through Main Street, which looked almost exactly as she remembered. She drove slowly to get her bearings and keep an eye out for pedestrians, although there was nary a soul outside on the cold January day.
Some store names had changed, but she recognized the general store, a coffee shop, and her aunt's bakery, Make It Or Bake It, across the street despite the years that had passed. When she noticed that several storefronts had For Sale or For Lease signs in the windows, her heart sank. A small town struggling was, unfortunately, nothing new. But with its picturesque bridge, quaint main street, and relative proximity to multiple cities, there should be plenty of tourism opportunities.
Well, that's not my problem, Kate thought once she spotted the bed and breakfast and parked. I'm just here for the reading of the will.
A bell rang when she opened the door, and she glanced up, amused at the old-fashioned alarm.
"Hi," she greeted the older woman behind the desk, dropping her briefcase to the floor and digging her wallet from her purse. "I have a room for tonight, under Kate-"
"Katie Beckett," the woman interrupted, a wide smile on her face. "I thought the name sounded familiar. You haven't changed a bit."
Kate tilted her head, trying to recognize the woman. "I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I'm usually good with names."
"Oh, of course, you wouldn't remember me." The woman came around the counter and pulled Kate into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry about Theresa," she said, patting Kate on the back before stepping away. "When I heard she passed, I cried for days. She was one of my dearest friends."
"Oh." Kate took a step back and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she'd picked up in law school. "Thanks." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."
"Martha," she said, retreating behind the counter and opening a large notebook. "Now, you're staying just the one night?"
"Yes. I have to go back to Manhattan tomorrow."
"Right. Well, you, my dear, are my only guest tonight." Martha pulled open a drawer and placed a key on the counter, along with a few pieces of paper. "So I gave you what I like to call the Presidential Suite. Now, since it's the off-season and it's just you, I wasn't planning on doing a big spread for breakfast, but I can arrange for the restaurant to bring over something," she offered, showing Kate a menu.
Kate glanced at the menu and shook her head. "Thanks, but I'll just get coffee somewhere."
Martha nodded. "I'll put coffee on the table behind you. Now, if you need anything, just dial zero on the phone in your room, and I'll be over in two shakes."
Kate felt eyes on her as soon as she walked through the door. The restaurant wasn't exactly busy, but there were enough people inside that there was a noticeable decrease in volume as she approached what looked like a hostess stand.
"Sit where you'd like," a woman with her arms full of empty plates called out. "I'll find you in a minute."
Kate swept her gaze across the room, taking in the crowd. Almost everyone wore a variation on the same outfit - flannel shirts or sweatshirts with blue jeans - and she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb in her work trousers and blazer, even if she hadn't been the only non-local in the building.
She spotted an empty table by the front window, and she draped her coat and purse over one chair and slid into the other. Her eyes roamed over the neon signs along the back wall, behind the long, full bar, and she noted the small collection of liquor bottles. She squinted, trying to make out what the beer selection was, but before she could decipher the labels, a menu was placed in front of her.
"I'm Jenny," said the woman who had greeted her. "I haven't seen you here, you passing through?"
Kate glanced at the menu, which appeared to be much larger than a restaurant in a small town should offer. "Um, kind of. Just here for a little business," she explained, trying to keep it vague. She had no intention of getting to know anyone more than what was necessary. She was there for Aunt Theresa's will, and that was it.
Jenny gasped. "You're Theresa's niece, aren't you?" she asked, her gaze bright. "Oh my God, it was so sad, what happened. I got a dozen cookies from her every month for my book club. Anyway," she continued, "can I get you something to drink?"
Kate blinked a few times, her tired brain trying to catch up with Jenny's words. "Um," she began, flipping the menu to the back page and finding the drinks. She glanced over the wine and beer selection, opted not to get any of them. She wasn't picky, but their selection was - understandably - limited, and she didn't feel like trying something new. "Could you make a cosmo or Manhattan?"
Jenny shrugged. "I'll check. We don't get many mixed drink orders, but let me see what I can do. I'll come back for your food order."
She returned just a few short minutes later with a cosmo in her hand and a satisfied smile on her face. Kate took a small sip, mindful of the fact that she hadn't eaten in several hours, and ordered a cobb salad.
The conversations in the restaurant had started up again when she sat down, and as she waited for her food she let the chatter act as background noise as she pulled out her phone and checked her email.
Thanks to this trip she missed a full day of work, and although she was a partner with a more-than-capable paralegal team, she had needed to miss a last-minute meeting with an important client. Not to mention her usual Friday afternoon activity of catching up on paperwork. She sighed and flagged an email from her boss to read later, probably on the train home, when she could actually concentrate. And it looked like she'd have to go in on Sunday if she wanted any hope of preparing for the upcoming week.
Although it wasn't ideal - she did like having at least one day to catch up on laundry - it wasn't the first time she'd worked all weekend, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
"Here you go, darling," Jenny announced, an overflowing salad plate in her hand. "Enjoy."
As Kate took her first few bites she started to sense that someone was watching her. She ignored it, her attention firmly on her phone as she ate, but after several long seconds she set her fork down, reached for her drink, and casually glanced around the room.
Most of the other patrons had their focus elsewhere, either on their companions or their plates. But when Kate glanced across the room she saw a man looking in her direction. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her, so she just picked up her fork and continued to eat, all while keeping an eye on him.
Eventually the man stood, dropped something on the counter - money, she assumed - and slid on his coat as he walked towards her and the door behind her. He glanced at Kate as he passed, and when they made eye contact he paused for a brief moment, then he gave her a polite smile and moved on.
Later, Kate laid awake in the aptly-named Presidential Suite, surrounded by portraits of a few of the more famous U.S. presidents and a print of Washington Crossing the Delaware hanging above her head. She was tired, her eyes ached and begged for rest, but she couldn't calm her mind
The man she'd locked eyes with at the restaurant looked so familiar, but she couldn't place him. Could he have come to her firm? No, doubtful. He didn't look like their typical clientele. Maybe she just passed him on the street in Manhattan.
She grunted and turned to her side. Those odds were astronomical.
Perhaps he just had one of those familiar faces.
That didn't seem right either, Kate thought with a frustrated sigh. It was going to bother her until she figured out why his strong jaw looked familiar. If only the restaurant had been brighter, so she could've seen the color of his eyes and made out more of his features.
As she finally drifted off to sleep, she dreamt of a featureless man in a plaid flannel shirt, waving at her in the middle of Times Square.
She was in the lobby shortly after nine the next morning, her overnight bag already in the trunk of her car and coffee in a to-go cup. The reading was at nine thirty, then she had to leave for Hartford to catch the afternoon train back home. Her mind was already on the next day, creating a mental to do list as she checked out and finalized her bill with Martha.
The law office was just the next block over from the B&B, so she left the car where it was, slung her briefcase over her shoulder so she could carry both her coffee and her phone. She found the office within minutes, and took a few moments to marvel at just how cliche it felt. Small-town Connecticut, a quaint main street, law office in an old blue house with white trim and shutters.
Kate almost tripped when the front door opened.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," an older man said, his face lined with age. "I was just running to grab a coffee. You must be Kate." He held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Roy Montgomery, town lawyer. I am so sorry for your loss."
Kate gave him a small, courteous smile. If one more person said they were sorry for the passing of a family member she'd barely spoken to in years, she might go crazy. "Thank you." She glanced at her watch, noted she was still several minutes early.
Roy stepped aside and extended his arm towards the door. "Go on in and make yourself comfortable. We'll just do it in my office, first door on the left. I'll be back in a few minutes. Oh, would you like something?" he added, nodding at her coffee cup.
Kate shook her head. "No thanks."
She wandered through the house-turned-office and marveled at the stark differences between it and her own firm. Where her Manhattan office was on the twentieth floor of a midtown skyscraper, all glass and steel, sharp lines and even sharper tongues, the Law Office of Roy Montgomery felt completely different.
The waiting room, probably a parlor in a previous life, was small, just a loveseat and two armchairs along the walls. Several magazines were fanned out on the small coffee table, but she noticed that they were months old. And the wall decor was another stark contrast to what she was used to. She noted the warm floral prints, probably intending to soothe any visitors.
"Okay, Ms. Beckett, we can get started."
Kate jumped at the sound of his voice, and although she felt her cheeks flush, she followed him into his office. As he sat behind a modest desk she noted the framed degrees on the wall to her left, and she couldn't stop her brows from raising. His degrees from Penn State and Harvard Law spoke to someone who could have been a comfortable retiree or managing partner instead of still practicing in a dying town.
"Is no one else coming?" she asked as Roy slid a pair of reading glasses on.
He shook his head and opened the thin folder in front of him. "No, ma'am. My instructions were very clear. While your Aunt Theresa did divide some of her assets - as you'll soon learn - she only required your presence for the reading of her will. Anyone else was optional, but they'll all be informed in the next two weeks. Now," he continued, reaching for his coffee and taking a drink, "shall we start?"
Kate held her hand out before he could read. "Hang on, I'm sorry. I don't understand why I had to come here. I had to take a day off work, time I can't really afford to take, mind you. I assumed multiple people would attend, so it was just easier for me to come here. And I'm the only one?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I don't know why you couldn't come to the city."
Roy leveled his gaze at her. "I know it's inconvenient, Ms. Beckett. But it's what your aunt required." Kate opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "I don't know why she wanted you here, in person, but she did. I had to cancel plans as well," he added, narrowing his eyes. "The sooner we do this, the sooner you can leave, okay?"
Kate barely managed to stop herself from slouching down in her chair. She hadn't received a dressing down like that since...well, at least a month. But it sounded different coming from Roy, who exuded a fatherly kindness, than from her hard-nosed, take-no-prisoners boss.
"Sorry, sir," she muttered, her face hot. She took out her notebook and uncapped her pen. "Okay, let's get started."
Kate stared in shock at a spot on the wall behind Roy. Much of the contents of the will had been expected. Aunt Theresa didn't have much money, and it was split between charity, a few close friends, and Kate. Since Kate was her last surviving relative, she was given the house and belongings, so she made a note to schedule another trip up to deal with them. Perhaps she'd let Theresa's friends go through the and take any belongings they wanted.
Most of the will was unsurprising, and very standard.
Until they got to Make It Or Bake It.
Kate would review the business paperwork in greater detail at a later time, but her immediate concern was what even to do with it.
Aunt Theresa left the bakery to her.
Kate was floored.
Aside from the short time helping her a decade and a half before, Kate had zero experience even having a business, let alone a bakery. Sure, as a corporate attorney she was probably more equipped than most others in her aunt's life, at least to deal with the legal side of things.
But a bakery?
"Are you okay, Ms. Beckett?"
Kate shifted her gaze to see Roy staring at her, concern etched in his face. She blinked a few times to clear her stupor, and she nodded, then glanced at her watch. "Yeah, it just took me by surprise, is all. I have to get going, can I please get a copy of the will? And her business papers, if you have them."
Roy slid a second folder across to her. "Here you go. My card's in there as well, please don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions."
Kate slid the folder into her bag and stood shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Montgomery."
"Please, call me Roy."
"Roy." She nodded. "I'll be in touch."
It hit her on the train home.
A bakery. She owned a freaking bakery.
Sure, she had a general idea of how businesses worked, but a bakery?
She knew nothing about cakes or cookies or supplies or decorating. Aside from making Christmas cookies as a child, and the three weeks she'd spent with Aunt Theresa - from which she retained nothing - she had zero experience.
Reviewing the financials just frustrated her more.
As far as she could tell, Aunt Theresa had been struggling to keep the business afloat. The business turned a profit, but barely, and only because she only had one employee and didn't take a salary for herself.
She sighed and sent a text to her best friend, asking if she could take some time to review the information deeper. Her first instinct was to sell - or even close - the business, but she wanted an accountant's opinion.
I'm free Thursday, came Lanie's quick reply. I'll bring the wine and you can tell me all about the cute country guys you met.
Kate smiled despite her frustration and fatigue. No cute guys this time, she replied. As soon as she sent the text she remembered the man from the restaurant, how his eyes had flickered with recognition. Obviously he couldn't place her either, she thought, otherwise he would've said something. But he was so familiar.
Well, she'd go back to Southbridge soon. Maybe she'd figure it out then.
"Lay it on me," Kate said the following Thursday, refilling her wine glass. "How bad is it?"
Lanie shrugged. "It's not as bad as I initially thought," she admitted, reaching for her still full glass. "Despite not paying herself, her overhead was too high. But there's something here." She pulled over her laptop and pointed at the screen, where she had pulled up Yelp reviews. "People rave about it, Kate. 'Best cookies I've ever had.' 'The cake was out of this world,'" she read. "The problem is, your aunt did zero marketing. There's no website, no social media, nothing. And Southbridge just doesn't have enough visitors to depend on walk in traffic. The food costs are off, too. I'll look at that more this weekend."
She shut her laptop and leaned back on the couch. "At the end of the day, it sounds like your aunt had a great product. But nobody knew about it."
Kate took a large drink of her wine. "Thanks, Lanie. I really appreciate it."
"No problem. I'll send you my invoice. You can pay me in booze and Chinese food," Lanie teased.
Kate chuckled. God, it felt good to unwind a little, and the mostly good news about the bakery helped lift the weight off her shoulders. She'd spoken to the bakery's employee, a woman just a few years younger than herself, and she'd been very understanding of the predicament. Kate agreed to have a decision by the end of the month, so she had just over three weeks to figure out what she wanted - or even had the ability - to do.
Kate glanced up when she heard the door open, and she stood, extended her hand. "Alexis, hi," she greeted the younger woman, marvelled at her strong handshake.
"Hi, Kate, it's nice to meet you in person." Alexis tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. She joined Kate at the small table in the front of the bakery. She glanced around at the empty display cases, and Kate saw her eyes fill with tears. "Sorry," she said with a sniffle, "I haven't been in here since Theresa died. I came in to clean everything out after, but…"
Her voice trailed off, and Kate leaned her elbows on the table. "I know," she assured her, "and I'm grateful that you did that. I would have hated to see all that food get thrown away, and I'm sure the restaurant put good use to them."
What Kate didn't say was that the restaurant had severely underpaid for the baked goods. She couldn't really blame them, though; Theresa's death had been sudden, and the food would have gone to waste otherwise. Alexis had obviously done what she could to salvage even a few dollars out of desperation.
"So, Alexis, I wanted to talk to you about the future of the store." When the younger woman tensed, Kate shook her head. "I'm not closing it," she assured, "but I'm not going to lie. Unless we can drum up some regular business, we can't stay open long-term." Kate tapped her pen on the folder containing the bakery's financials, a folder she'd been inseparable from in the two weeks since she'd acquired it. "Did my aunt ever talk about advertising?"
Alexis shook her head. "No, and it drove me nuts. I wanted her to have a website. Tory - my girlfriend - even offered to do a free mock up, and manage the site for super cheap. She's a social media consultant," she added at Kate's confused look. "Hell, even a Facebook page would have been better than nothing. I told her I'd take care of it all, she wouldn't have to do anything unless there was a customer issue or something major. But she refused. Said we were doing fine without it, so why complicate life?"
Kate let out a wry chuckle. Her aunt sounded a lot like her boss. His motto was "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
By the time they left the empty bakery almost two hours later they had a plan to move forward. Alexis claimed that, even alone, she could open the store for a few hours a day. Kate wasn't entirely confident, and was worried that she may get overwhelmed, especially with Valentine's Day just a month away. She vowed to check in with Alexis daily, already mourning the additional sleep she'd lose just so she could keep up with both the bakery and her job.
Well, if it would keep her aunt's bakery alive, she was willing to try.
A/N: This fic was prompted by a random group DM conversation with the Sanity Chat ladies, and is inspired by cheesy Hallmark movies. I am forever grateful to Jenn for putting up with my daily word counts and responding with more enthusiasm than I ever expected. I hope everyone enjoys the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.