One Week to be Loved by a Billionaire

Elodie’s POV

“Ellie, a customer is asking for you.” Mara poked her head through the kitchen door.

Another complaint. Another customer I couldn’t afford to lose.

My hands stiffened. The dough stuck to my fingers like glue as I paused the next batch of meat rolls. I raised my head to look at Mara.

“Did the customer say why?”

“No, just that she wants to see you, and before you ask, her face is neutral, so I couldn’t get a read on her emotions.” Mara leaves the kitchen, and I am left alone with my mind running on the number of possibilities about why this customer could be asking for me.

A lot of customers have been complaining lately, and it’s draining me mentally. I used to get excited every day to bake and make people feel happy with every bite, but lately, I don’t look forward to opening anymore.

I remove my apron, wash my hands, take a deep breath and walk to the counter, hoping it’s not another complaint. I put on my customer smile.

“Hello, you asked for— Mama Vee? It’s you. Is everything alright?” My body relaxes, but it tightens again. I look at Mara. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Mama?” Mara shrugs, typing on her phone.

I adjusted my necklace. Why didn’t Mama Vee come into my office or kitchen like always?

“Elodie”, I look back at her, she is holding the bakery bag, her grandchild, Anthony, resting on a table nearby. Mama Vee is my granny’s childhood friend and a loyal customer who kept buying after Granny passed the bakery to me. I call her Mama Vee because she cared for me like Granny did—always warm, always smiling. But right now her smile is gone, her face downturned, body stiff, eyes cold. My fingertips run cold. I take a deep breath and rub my fingers on my trousers.

“I have always loved buying my morning bread here from the time your grandma owned it, and I continued after she left us. Bless her soul. I didn’t continue because of her, but because I saw your passion and knew you would take it bigger. But things have been going wrong lately. I worried, but trusted you’d fix it. After what happened yesterday, Elodie, I don’t think I can anymore.”

My heart drops, legs weak, I grip the counter. She’s not using my nickname. Why can’t she anymore? I can’t lose her too.

She dumps the bag on the counter. Customers watch. My heart races, almost exploding. I lick my dry lips. Mara stands.

“I will be at the back—”

“No, you will stay here. I’m talking to both of you.” She points Mara back to sit.

Swallowing hard, I say, “Mama Vee, I don’t understand. Was it the wrong order? Bad taste? Can we talk in my office?” My voice is low, trying to avoid a scene.

“Veronica, my dear? Is everything alright? People are watching. Elodie what’s wrong?” Paula, Mama Vee’s friend, joins us. Now the whole town will know by tomorrow.

Mama Vee ignores her. “Elodie, do you know where I’m coming from? The hospital. I gave Anthony leftovers from the bread I bought here. It put him in the ER overnight.”

Paula gasps, “Hospital! Anthony, my boy, are you okay?” She rushes to him, rubbing his head.

“Hospital? Is Anthony okay now? What does the bread have to do with it?” I reach for her hand but she holds it up.

“I’m not done.” She pulls out the remaining bread. “I never thought something small like this would keep me overnight at the hospital. Something small like this would almost take my Anthony!”

Her voice grows louder, now everyone is watching. Sweat clings to my neck. My legs shake. This could break the bakery. Her voice trembles as she looks at Anthony.

“He complained that his throat itched after eating your bread as a late-night snack, and I didn't think much of it. Then I found him on the floor, not breathing. She turns to face me, tears streaming down her face. The amount of pain I saw in her eyes. I couldn’t breathe. 

“Tests showed cockroach allergen exposure from the last thing he ate. Your bread, Elodie. Child protective services almost took him from me, saying I was unfit because of your bread.”

She slams her hands on the counter, staring at me, her breathing turned harsh, chest rising and falling fast. Tears sting my eyes. People have gathered to console her. I could have killed someone, I know how scary allergies are, I carry an epi-pen for mine to the dates fruit. I look at Anthony, and he is sleeping on Paula’s lap. Paula is looking at me with disappointment, along with every other customer I make eye contact with.

“I am so sorry, Mama Vee. I don’t know how this happened. I’m always careful. I’m sorry, Mama Veronica.” I feel my vision clouding. The air feels thin.

“Elodie, my child, I love you, but I can’t risk it. I won’t buy here again until you fix what’s wrong and bring the bakery back. Until then, I can’t trust anything from here won't lead to the hospital.”

“No, Mama Vee, please. I can’t lose you too. It won’t happen again. I’ll fix it.”

I plead with my eyes. She shakes her head, wakes Anthony, and leaves with Paula following. I stand frozen at the counter, hands limp, legs heavy, mind blank. I stare at the door.

Mara taps me. “Elodie, the customers are asking for refunds.” Tingling pain hits my fingertips. I’m exhausted. I look up to see all the customers, both the ones that just ordered and those who have eaten theirs standing at the counter, anger on their faces demanding to be refunded. I nod and go to my office.

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I open the door. A scary pile of mail waits. I sit and stare at debts and repayments I don’t want to open but have to. The bells aren’t chiming anymore. All the customers are gone. The money for the loan is gone. I sift through the mails and find one that stops my heart. ‘Red Notice’ in bold. I open it.

MamiSweet Pastries

1010 Vienna, Austria

FINAL NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE

Dear Ms. Elodie Voss,

Despite repeated notifications and missed payment arrangements, the outstanding loan balance on MamiSweet Pastries remains in severe default. Accordingly, unless the full amount of €187,450.00 plus accrued interest is paid in cleared funds by 24 December 2025, the bank will initiate foreclosure proceedings and take possession of the property effective 26 December 2025. This is your final opportunity to remedy the default.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Stefan Keller

Senior Credit Officer

On Christmas Day, when everyone celebrates, I will lose the only memory of my grandma. The one person who never saw me as a disappointment. Until now.