Page 11 of Sweets and Sycamores
MEN DON’T MAKE FAMILIES WITH WITCHES
Allie sat down facing her boss and shoved the bags under the table, trying not to crowd Dominic, and ended up rustling the paper for a solid minute. When she was finally situated, she smiled at her boss, unsure of what to say or do.
“Tea?” he asked, pointing at the pot and cups on the table.
“Thank you.” She picked one of the cups, and Dominic poured the amber liquid into it, steam curling up and caressing her cheeks.
“How was your night, Mr. Ranford?” she attempted.
His eyes had been glued to her ever since she walked in, and it was a long moment before he shifted on the chair and leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table.
He didn’t waste any time getting to the subject of this impromptu meeting.
“Brandon told me how you two met last night,” he started. “Why did you leave Pearls Fields?”
His question didn’t offend her or take her by surprise, but she took a sip of tea to gather her thoughts.
The man had taken her in, so he deserved to know more about the woman living and working under his roof.
Allie pondered weaving some white lies into her story but decided against it.
She had nothing to hide, although she wasn’t thrilled to admit her biggest shortcoming out loud.
To her boss.
Who could fire her.
Allie’s heart pounded, and she wished the tea had a magical calming effect.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I was living with my coven in Pearls Fields, the Silverbarks. They sent me away for a few weeks so I could learn more about my magic.”
“I thought covens were supposed to…teach you.” Dominic frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Allie peeked at the intricate tree tattoo that stretched over the tense muscles.
“There’s no other Witch with power like mine in the coven,” she admitted, looking straight into his teal-colored eyes.
“They don’t know how to help me.” As she spoke the excuse she’d heard for months on end from her sisters, Allie heard it.
Truly heard how ridiculous it sounded, so the puzzled look on Dominic’s face made sense.
Allie shrugged and picked up the cup of tea, as if her statement meant nothing.
Deep down, it meant a bunch of things, but her boss didn’t need to know that.
“I’ve met Witches before and never heard of this,” he stated. Allie saw the question brewing in his mind, and she had no idea why he chose not to ask her about it.
What kind of magic do you have?
She should tell him without being asked.
That would have been the honest thing to do.
Instead, she said, “Each coven is different.” To this, the man raised his brows, so Allie continued, “My mom was a Silverbark,” hoping this detail would be enough.
Her boss nodded once, then took his first sip of tea.
They sat in silence, sipping, glancing at each other only accidentally.
At least, Dominic’s peeks seemed like an accident, whereas Allie was outright staring at the handsome man in front of her.
She had questions of her own, things she wanted to know about him and the town—mostly about him—but this moment here was about her. It needed to be about her, to give her boss the reassurance he needed to let her live and work here.
“What about your father?” Dominic asked. Unlike before, this question had taken her by surprise, and she struggled to reel it in, forcing her eyes not to turn into saucers. In her world, no one would have asked a Witch this question. Her boss must have met other Witches only fleetingly, then.
“I never knew my father.” This never made her feel one way or another. It was almost an unwritten law of nature concerning her kind. “Men don’t make families with Witches.”
Alecsandra gave him a soft smile, like she wasn’t bothered by what she revealed.
Dominic, on the other hand, had an intense urge to strangle any man who would fall into the “men who don’t make families with Witches” category.
The reason was beyond absurd to him, and he tried to calm his angry heartbeat before he spoke again.
He steered clear of family matters, as he recognized it was too personal to share with… practically a stranger.
“How long are you here for?”
“Until Hallows Eve. If you’ll have me,” she added quickly, that soft smile melting as she parted her rosy lips, her eyes filling with hope.
Just a little under two months. That wasn’t such a long time. And he did need help around the bakery, not that she knew much about it. Or anything about it.
What if it was Mia?
And what was the alternative? Send her back to wander the streets and towns until she found someone else who would take her in for this short period?
People didn’t always have the best intentions, especially when it came to Witches, and he didn’t want to have Alecsandra’s misfortune on his conscience.
If anything, he was being selfish for letting her stay; he would keep his conscience clean while getting help at the bakery.
She just wanted to learn more about her magic, whatever that meant.
He knew Pearls Fields was a small village of pure old magic, and nothing would compare to the knowledge she’d find in a town of new magic.
He sighed through his nose and spoke on the exhale.
“Fine.”
Alecsandra smiled at him again, this time big and wide like she had done in the morning with the coffee cups, what he gathered was her genuine smile. She lacked that Witch-like sneer, and she looked at him as if he had found the remedy for an incurable ailment.
“Thank you, Mr. Ranford!”
She was about to say something else, but he cut her off. “Tell me your limits with new magic.” He needed to know what he was working with here.
“I spent a few years in Green Creek.” A town a bit smaller than Sycamore Falls, but a new magic town nonetheless.
“I was around new magic there, and in the small apartment where I lived, but never in a place like this.” Her eyes scanned the room, and she chuckled, fixing them on the cup between her hands.
“I don’t know how to use professional equipment like the ovens and the coffee machine here.
But I can learn.” He read the unspoken challenge: if someone shows me.
In all truth, he had been kind of a jerk that morning. True to his nature, Dominic just nodded once and repeated, “Fine.”
The conversation with her boss went better than she’d expected.
Besides him being mostly monosyllabic and constantly surly, which seemed like just the type of person he was, it had gone really well.
He’d agreed to let her stay until Hallows Eve, provided she could help him around the bakery.
And she was determined to do everything in her power to make that happen.
Back in her room, Allie laundered her new clothes, grateful that the machines were similar to the ones in Sam’s apartment.
In her old apartment.
Allie was famished and excited to cook something delicious with all the ingredients she had bought earlier from the market.
She spent the night in the kitchen, cooking vegetable soup and beef stew, and preparing breakfast and lunch for tomorrow.
She’d settled on the honey-smoked ham and cheese sandwiches and a fruit salad for lunch.
After stuffing herself with two bowls of soup, she showered, snuggled in her new PJs, and spent the last hours before sleep stole her with Baking for Dummies in her arms. On the sofa that was so, so easy to expand.
In the early morning when the alarm of hell rang, Allie wondered how many mornings it would survive until she smashed it against the wall.
She growled into her pillow, her limbs heavy as she rolled over and pushed the hair out of her face.
She lifted the clock in front of her face to stop the alarm.
Allie fumbled with the button and stopped the horrible noise, blinking away the sleep from her eyes.
Only to see that it was fifteen minutes to five in the morning.
“This isn’t happening,” she groaned, jolting up and running around the room like a headless chicken. She picked the first items of clothing her hands fell on—a navy-blue sweater and jeans—put on her boots, and had the presence of mind to brush her teeth.
At two minutes to five, Allie unlocked her door while gathering her hair in a bun, the scrunchie between her lips.
She walked into the bakery, hoping to be there first, only to find all the lights on and her boss looking over his notebook in the kitchen.
He was dressed just like yesterday, except for his shirt, which was a deep green today, so much like the color of his eyes, and his brown locks were up in a tight bun.
Her hands were still up on her head, gathering her hair, and the scrunchie was still in her mouth when Dominic looked at her and said, “Morning.”
She must have looked like a crazy person. With trembling fingers, she managed to tie her hair and say, “Good morning, Mr. Ranford,” hoping her bun looked half-decent. She noticed he wasn’t wearing an apron, so she went to the storage room and picked two, putting hers on.
Dominic flipped the notebook closed and took the apron from her hand with a grunt. He came to stand in front of the ovens as he tied it behind his back.
“Watch.”
Allie stood one step behind him, paying close attention to the buttons and knobs her boss pressed and turned.
The ovens that resembled the one from the manor only had two extra buttons that needed to be pressed before turning the final knob, and Allie also took note of the temperature that Dominic had set on them both.
The tall, vertical ovens with eight to ten trays in them were the real challenge.
She asked Dominic if she could take a piece of paper from his notebook to write the details down, to which he huffed and nodded once.
While she took notes, Dominic turned on the first oven, then had her start the second one to make sure she wrote everything down correctly.
Allie hadn’t been this nervous since showing up at the Silverbarks’ door, demanding they take her in.
She went through each step on the paper carefully, and when she was done, she looked to her boss for confirmation.
Her heart was in her throat, beats pulsating in her ears, and she squeezed the piece of paper to her chest like it was her most precious possession.
“Good” was all Dominic said. It was more than enough, and Allie released a long breath, pushing her heart back down to its place.
They moved to the coffee machine in the front, which was less complicated than the ovens.
Compared to the one she had used in Green Creek, this machine was larger and had multiple options, including one to foam the milk.
But Dominic gave her a list of coffee orders they served and the measurements of coffee and milk in each one of them, which made things easier for her.
She watched as he made a large cappuccino that filled the air with her favorite smell of ground coffee beans.
Getting her hands on the machine was now a personal mission, as she was desperate for coffee this morning.
“Want this?” her boss asked, handing her the cup of coffee.
“Me?” she blurted out, then bit her lip.
Of course, you, who else is here?
Allie chuckled awkwardly and took the cup with both hands. “Thank you.” The coffee was a bit sweet for her taste because of the foamed milk, but it was still delicious. “Can I try to make one?”
Dominic jerked his head at the machine, arms crossed, watching her.
A man of very few words, indeed. She put down the cup and picked an empty one, looking over the list for the measurements.
Allie clicked on the coffee options and placed the cup in its designated slot.
While the fresh coffee dripped, she picked up the milk carton and poured some into the special steel recipient used for foaming.
Allie tried to imitate the motion Dominic made and circle the steel cup.
“Like this?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the task.
“Smaller circles.” She heard footsteps before Dominic’s shadow crowded her from behind. He stretched his arm along hers but pulled it back immediately. “A bit smaller.”
She followed his instructions and finished foaming the milk, then poured it over the coffee and offered the cup to her boss, who tasted it and nodded with a grunt. Allie took it as approval and smiled widely.
“Thank you for taking the time to teach me, Mr. Ranford.” It might have sounded more backhanded than she wanted, but if Dominic got that hint, he didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to start cleaning the kitchen.
” She took her cappuccino and went around her boss, who looked like he’d grown roots in that spot.
Allie followed the routine she’d established yesterday, thoroughly cleaning the kitchen while Dominic scribbled over and crossed things out in the notebook. When she was done, Dominic stopped her in the hallway to the bakery and said, “Help me in here first.”
She remembered where half of the things were from yesterday, and for the other half, her boss had pointed to the right place. He didn’t seem annoyed that she didn’t remember all of them. Progress.
“I need a batch measuring cup full of cold milk. Don’t spill it,” he warned her.
Allie opened the fridge, got the milk out, and filled one of the biggest cups—which she had learned yesterday morning was a batch measuring cup—almost to the brim.
She took the cup with both hands and turned to set it on the table.
Some bubbles clung to the cup’s edges as Dominic reached for it and hissed, jerking his hand back.
“This is boiling hot!” he yelled. Dominic’s eyes grew impossibly wide, the green turning to a threatening shade as he stared into her soul.
Allie froze.
Her breaths came in labored as she looked between her palms and the cup, shaking her head. She took a step back, clasping her hands behind her back.
Dominic’s scrutinizing glare turned into realization, the angry frown smoothing into utter shock.
“Is that… Is that your power?”