"I've got to admit Maeve, it's tears your from me to see that particular gentleman illuminating your eyes like they hadn't seen the sun in quite some time." Maeve let her gaze slide away from her current obsession and toward the speaker,jumping slightly at the presence she hadn't heard enter. When did April appear? Where had she come from? "Oh April, I'm so sorry," she offered earnestly, even as her face twisted into a rueful grin at the pun on her baker's name. "It's just, there's something about him. I've been thinking." uitye, you look lovely as ever." April staggered back, of course she still knew Edward's battle scarred, handsome face, how could she forget the man who had nearly died saving her from a pyromaniac? "He moved back to the village, too?" She asked, composing herself though she wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around his neck. "No, he moved back almost a week ago. I was looking for you when I came inthis morning. Secretly, for the pastry, of course…"he added hastily with a dashing wink. "How do you do it Maeve, sit in here eating these little cookies after watching them go up in smoke just two weeks ago? You must love me truly." "And what a shame it would be to lose it?" "I called Tony yesterday." "Big Daddy?" "To threaten legal repercussions if he doesn't pull Australian dollars for the next big game." "And he agreed?" "He's not immediately convinced. I'm going back in a fortnight for negotiations." "Silly Tony. Really though, you're going back?" Maeve leaned against the counter, watching Edward carefully. "Early the morning I'm to hear back on a contract we bid for the luxury hotel in Blue Mountains north of Sydney." "And what about you?" Edward asked, gesturing to the chai latte she'd set aside. "I hear your to expand this place." "Well, I won't leave my apron behind. But we're to start a writers retreat. Two full weeks per year where I'll actually clean my house and cook for an interested clientele." "And what sort of clientele?" She asked curiously. "Oh, apparently it's not just crime fiction writers who go insane after too many hours in front of a screen. Poetry too… And children's book authors!" April laughed in delight remembering her friend's hand drawn vision. "You got someone special in mind?" "Us." "You have a spare room?" She asked in surprise. "Well, yes for the time being, but..." Maeve smugly exhaled. April paused and removed her glasses. "Oh I can't wait," she declared, reaching over to steal the last macaron. "Do you need help with anything before I head out?" She asked. "Do I ever?" Maeve replied, adjusting her dress and preparing to go open for the day.