(Scarlett’s POV)
Dorian’s office feels like a sanctuarypared to the industrial wastnd my mall bakery has be. Floor–to–ceiling windows overlook the city, and everything speaks of sess.
Thinking about it….this is the first time I’m here, and I’m not even in the mood to admire it.
I sink into the leather chair across from his desk, exhausted.
“Tell me what happened,” he says, setting a cup of tea in front of me.
I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, using it to steady myself. “Andrew destroyed everything. He turned my bakery into a factory.”
“Walk me through it.”
So I do. Every detail. The reviews, the industrial bread, the shortcuts that stripped away everything that made my recipes special. Dorian listens without interrupting, his expression growing more thoughtful with each word.
When I finish, he’s quiet for a long moment.
“That’s disappointing,” he finally says. “But not entirely surprising.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Andrew’s a professional baker, Scarlett. He’s been in this industry for twenty years. He sees inefficiencies and fixes them. It’s what he’s trained to do.”
Something cold settles in my chest. “Those weren’t inefficiencies. Those were the things that made my bread special.”
‘To you, yes. But to the average business owner?”
“The reviews speak for themselves, Dorian. People noticed the difference.”
“A vocal minority noticed.” He leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. “The sales numbers tell a different story. Andrew said business was actually up.”
I stare at him. “You’ve talked to Andrew?”
“He called me this morning. He’s concerned about you, about the business. He thinks you’re letting perfectionism cloud your judgment.”
<Chapter 85
“Perfectionism?” The word tastes bitter. “Is that what we’re calling integrity now?”
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“Scarlett.” Dorian stands, moving to the window. “I know this is hard to hear, but Andrew might have a point about some things.” <fn0c6b> The rightful source is find?novel</fn0c6b>
My hands start shaking. I set the tea down before I spill it.
“The hand–kneading. The four–hour rise times. The individual shaping.” He turns back to me. “Those methods work beautifully for a small neighborhood bakery. But if you want to grow, if you want to build your brand, you need to think bigger.”
“By selling worse bread?”
“By selling more bread.” His voice stays patient, like he’s exining something obvious to a child. “Most customers can’t tell the difference between a four–hour rise and a ny–minute rise. But they can tell the difference between a popr and non–popr product.”
“So
you think Andrew was right to change everything?”
“I think Andrew made the right business decisions. Could he havemunicated his intentions better? Absolutely. But his instincts about efficiency and scbility are sound.”
“Efficiency.” I repeat the word like it’s poison. “That’s what matters to you?”
“Profit matters, Scarlett. Growth matters. Impact matters.” Dorian sits back down, leaning forward earnestly. “Do you know how many people you could reach with standardized recipes and proper equipment? How many jobs you could create? How much good you could do in the world?”
“By selling people chemical–full products?”
“By giving them something they love at a price they can afford.” His eyes are bright with possibility. “Imagine Sunrise Bakes in every major city. Imagine wealthy families across the country putting in orders.”
He reaches across the desk, covering my hand with his. “This is what sess looks like, Scarlett. This is what business growth requires.”
I pull my hand away. “And if I don’t want that kind of sess?”
“Then you’ll stay small forever. One little bakery, reaching maybe a hundred customers a day instead of thousands.” His voice carries a hint of conflict. “Is that really what you want? To stay small forever?”
Small forever. Like love and care and craftsmanship are things to be ashamed of.
< Chapter 85
“What if the methods are what make it special?” I ask quietly.
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“Then you find ways to preserve the essence while improving the execution.” He stands again, moving to a shelf lined with business books. “Look, every sessfulpany goes through this transition. From artisan to enterprise. It’s natural evolution. Small businesses that refuse to adapt, that cling to inefficient methods because they’re ‘authentic.‘ Do you know where they end up?”
I shake my head.
“Bankruptcy.” He slides the book toward me. “Meanwhile, theirpetitors who were willing to evolve, who prioritized growth over sentiment, they’re the ones feeding families and creating jobs and making a real difference.”
The words hit like punches. Is that what I’m doing? Prioritizing sentiment <i>over </i>practicality?
Choosing pride over progress?
“I just want to make good bread,” I whisper.
<b>“</b>And you can. But you need to decide what ‘good‘ means. Is it the perfect texture that only you can detect? Or is it bread that brings joy to thousands of families every day?”
“Both?”
“Not at scale. Not profitably.” His voice is kind but unyielding. “This is the reality of business, Scarlett. You can’t have everything exactly the way you want it and still grow.”
I think about the reviews again. The disappointment in those customers‘ voices. People who trusted my name and got something that tasted like cardboard.
“The customers noticed the difference,” I say weakly.
“Some did. But how many more customers did you reach because of Andrew’s efficiencies? How many people got to taste your recipes who never would have otherwise?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
“Talk to him,” Dorian says gently. “Sit down with Andrew and find a middle ground. Keep some of your special touches for signature items, but let him optimize the everyday products. You can have both artisanal showpieces andmercial sess.”
“I fired him.”
“Then un–fire him.” Dorian smiles, the expression warm and encouraging. “Apologize for being hasty. Tell him you want to work together to find solutions that honor both your vision and business reality.”
< Chapter 85
“What if there’s no middle ground?”
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“Then you choose. Small and pure, or big and impactful.” He meets my eyes directly. “But remember, Scarlett – you can’t change the world from a single neighborhood bakery. If you really want to make a difference, if you want to reach more people, <i>you </i>have to be willing topromise.”
The word sits heavy between us. Compromise. It sounds so reasonable when he says it like
that<b>. </b>
“You really think Andrew was right?” I ask.
“I think Andrew is a professional who understands the industry better than either of us. And I think you’re a brilliant creator who deserves to see her work reach its full potential.” Dorian stands, extending his hand to help me up. “Talk to him. Find a way to work together. Because if you want to expand, if you want to really build somethingsting, going industrial isn’t just
one option.”
He pauses, meeting my eyes with gentle certainty.
“It’s the only way.”
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