Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café
Baking, broken hearts and beach weddings…it’s all happening in the gorgeous little seaside town of Berecombe this year!Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café is struggling as a multi-national chain of cafés moves in on its territory. Despite baking up a storm in a bid to save it, Millie’s distracted by falling head over heels for the gorgeous, mysterious Jed.As the seasons change in Berecombe, the loveable, quirky locals rally round Millie, and in return find their own happy ever afters. Millie’s delighted for her friends, but when she discovers Jed’s been keeping secrets, she faces a new dilemma – is it finally time to hang up her apron and start an exciting life somewhere new? Or is everything she’s ever wanted right under her nose, just waiting for her to reach out and take it?
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
Copyright © Georgia Hill 2018
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Georgia Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008212162
Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780008222178
Version: 2017-10-17
To the people and town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. Thank you for the fabulous holidays.
Contents
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Contents
Millie wiped the table and then straightened to enjoy the view. Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café must have one of the best in Berecombe. Situated halfway along the flat promenade leading to the harbour, its wide windows looked straight out onto the seas of Lyme Bay. And what a view! Now, in early January, a chill bit into the wind and the light was crystal clear, making the azure blue of sea and sky deeper and rain-washed. One or two gulls wheeled about in the light breeze, chattering to the skies. Even though she’d lived in the little flat above the café all her life, Millie would never tire of how beautiful her home town was.
She carried the tray, full of empty plates and mugs, back to the kitchen and began washing up. Some people might say she was mad to stay open in the winter. All the other cafés and restaurants in this part of town were firmly shut up until March. Even the chip shop only opened on weekend nights.
But Millie loved this time of year. Yes, it was dark in the mornings, but the winter winds whipped up the sea into towering waves and she fed off the energy from a good storm. There was nothing more exhilarating than a walk along the promenade watching the waves tear into the beach and being deafened by the roar. She frothed the washing-up water in the sink with enthusiasm. Yes, there were only a few people about but she’d pick up a bit of trade from the literary festival later in the month. Besides, there were always one or two weekenders wanting a good foamy latte. There were all her regulars too. Biddy, with Elvis the poodle, would be along in an hour and Zoe and her friends would pop in for hot chocolate; fresh off the school bus and wanting a place to gossip in until it was time to go home. During the low season, Millie relished the luxury of having lots of time to talk to her customers.
‘And besides, Trevor,’ Millie called through the kitchen door to the cockapoo snoring in his basket by the radiator, ‘What else would we be doing? I can’t knit and daytime telly bores me rigid.’ The dog, worn out from his run on the beach, didn’t grace her with an answer.
The familiar jingle-jangle of the bell on the door alerted her to a customer. Wiping her hands on her apron – hand sewn by Biddy and turquoise-blue and pink to match the decor – Millie grabbed her pen and order pad.
There was a stranger sitting at the best table, next to the middle window. A man and alone. It was unusual. Not many men came into the café in the afternoons. She had a few who popped in for breakfast, but men weren’t usually, in her experience, afternoon-tea-and-cake type of people.
‘Hello there,’ she said, pinning on a welcoming smile, ‘What can I get you?’
The man lifted his face from the menu and gazed at her. He had dark eyes and blond hair. A striking combination. He was about her own age and very, very attractive.
‘Good afternoon.’
Cultivated voice. Expensive-sounding, to match his heavy overcoat. Millie glimpsed a snowy white shirt underneath, with a red tie and charcoal-grey striped suit. Definitely not her usual sort of customer. Perhaps he’d got lost on his way to the Lord of the Manor Hotel? It was far more exclusive and upmarket than Millie Vanilla’s.
