The sweet scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as the early morning crowd began to trickle in to the Sunshine Bakery. Behind the counter, a florid-faced woman with a wild mane of curly hair chatted with a tall, lanky man, his eyes scanning the display case. "You can't believe the trouble we've had with her," the woman said, her voice rising in indignation. "Pampering those precious customers of hers, making sure they're all happy and content. I swear, it's like she thinks she's running the town or something." The man nodded sympathetically, his eyes lingering on the rows of golden brown scones. "I know what you mean. But you have to admit, she's done a good job of making Sweet Smiles the go-to bakery in town. People come from all over for those famous lemon bars." The woman snorted. "Famous? Please. Anyone can throw some tartar and sugar on a tray and call it a lemon bar. I've been baking for years, and my products are far superior." The man chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think you might be biased, Mary. But I do know one thing – the real challenge will come when word gets out she's moving to the old Miller place on Main Street. Then the real fireworks will start."