The following Monday dawned with an edge of nervous energy. Lena stood in front of the bakery's large front window, watching Main Street come alive, her thoughts already in overdrive. The board meeting was only a few hours away, and though she wouldn't be speaking yet, Walker had insisted she attend.
"You're not just part of this fight, Lena," he'd said. "You are the reason it matters."
She wasn't used to power suits or corporate buildings, but she'd found a way to merge both worlds—wearing a cream blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans and her favorite black flats. A little business, a little bakery.
Ava walked in holding two coffees and eyed her outfit. "You look like someone who's about to change some minds and still be home in time to proof dough."
Lena smiled. "That's the plan."
By ten, she and Walker were walking into Harper Holdings together. It was a far cry from the cozy storefront she loved—cold marble floors, glass walls, and muted conversations echoing through sleek hallways. But she kept her chin up.
Walker led her into the boardroom, where a long polished table stretched across the room. Half a dozen board members were already seated, and Madeline stood by the windows, tapping on her tablet with sharp, deliberate motions.
She barely glanced up when they entered.
Walker pulled out a seat for Lena, then took his place at the head of the table.
"Thank you all for coming," he began. "We've reached a pivotal moment—not just for Harper Holdings, but for how we define our values going forward."
Madeline's lips tightened. "If this is another pitch to protect a failing pastry shop—"
"It's not failing," Lena said quietly, surprising herself as much as anyone else.
Every head turned.
Lena stood, heart pounding but voice steady. "The bakery is thriving. We've doubled revenue in a month, brought in local media attention, and created a community movement that matters to hundreds of people. This isn't nostalgia—it's impact. Real, measurable impact."
Walker looked at her with open admiration, but didn't interrupt.
"I'm not asking you to abandon your goals," she continued. "I'm asking you to see that growth doesn't have to mean erasure. There's room for both."
Silence followed, thick with tension. Then one board member—a silver-haired woman named Janice—spoke up.
"My granddaughter made me drive thirty minutes just to get a muffin from this place. Said it was the best she's ever had. She's six. She doesn't say that lightly."
A few quiet chuckles broke the tension.
Walker stood again. "We've submitted a revised proposal. Hart & Hearth would be a pilot partnership model—not just a holdover. If it works, we replicate it. If it doesn't, we reconsider. But we owe it to our legacy to at least try."
Madeline scowled but didn't object.
Janice tapped her pen. "Let's vote. On the pilot proposal."
The room shifted. Hands went up. One. Two. Three. Four.
Five.
Lena's heart leapt.
Madeline crossed her arms. "Motion carries," she said coldly.
Walker turned to Lena, and in his eyes, she saw it—not just pride, but certainty.
They were just getting started.