CHAPTER NINETEEN – HER OWN FLAIR
As she danced around, mop in hand, the bell over the door jingled. Rebecca froze, expecting to see her mother returning. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with Mrs. Fairfax, one of their regular customers.
"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Fairfax!" Rebecca said, hastily turning down the music. "How can I help you today?"
Mrs. Fairfax raised an eyebrow. "My, my, Rebecca. I didn't expect to see you here. Where are your parents?"
Rebecca quickly explained the situation, carefully omitting any mention of the robbery. No need to scare away customers, after all.
"Well," Mrs. Fairfax said, "I suppose I'll have my usual then. One loaf of sourdough and two apple turnovers."
As Rebecca packaged the order, an idea struck her. "Mrs. Fairfax," she said hesitantly, "I was thinking of trying out a new recipe today. Would you be interested in a free sample? It's a cinnamon-swirl brioche."
Mrs. Fairfax looked surprised but nodded. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt to try."
Rebecca grinned and ducke

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