Page 4 of Sweets and Sycamores

I PROMISE HE HAS MANNERS

It was a little past ten at night and the town was still alive, celebrating the last day before the work week started. In Green Creek, some people worked the entire week, and some had the weekends off. Here, it looked like almost everyone was enjoying their weekend.

Allie gawked at the wide street with shops on both sides, restaurants with tables outside, and people having fun.

The townspeople were a mix of those with and without magic, which was common in cities with new magic, and she felt a wave of relief settle over her pounding heart.

There was a small chance that she could meet another Witch.

“Come this way,” Brandon said as he walked down the vibrant street.

Allie followed him, taking in the clothing boutiques, book shops, flower stores, beauty salons, and other enterprises lining the street.

“This is Maple Street,” Brandon told her.

“It’s the main street in town where you’ll find most businesses, and the market is at the other end of it.

Some business owners prefer to keep to narrower streets, but everything you need is here. ”

“Seems like it,” Allie said, delight sneaking into her voice.

“I live on the other side of the river, earmarked for residences and farms. But most business owners reside on the top floor of the townhomes here.”

The buildings were separated from the sidewalk by small gardens lined with low, white fences. Brandon entered the footpath of one of these spaces, and Allie noticed the wooden sign hanging above the entrance read “Dom’s Sweets.” A bakery?

The porch light went on as Brandon approached the door, but the place was dark inside, and the “Closed” sign hung in the window. Allie stayed behind on the sidewalk while Brandon knocked hard enough to rattle the door off its hinges.

“Hey! Hey, D! Open up!” he shouted.

“I think the bakery is closed,” Allie dared. She put her bag on the sidewalk and hugged herself as shiver after shiver traveled through her bones, carried by the cold night wind through the thin material of her summer dress.

“It’s fine. Don’t just stand there, come here,” Brandon urged her. She did what she was told, and when she reached the space next to Brandon, she saw the “Help Wanted. Room Included” sign in the window.

Oh.

“Let’s meet your future boss.” Brandon grinned.

A boss, right. Sam used to have a boss, and he always complained about him.

But this was Sam, and after everything Allie had learned about him, she considered he might have been at fault.

Nevertheless, Brandon was using unorthodox means for her to apply for this job.

Who would want to hire some stranger in the middle of the night, when the business was clearly closed?

“I can wait until tomorrow,” she voiced her concerns. In a town as big as Sycamore Falls seemed to be, she would for sure find an inn, or maybe even a hotel.

“D, wake up!” Brandon shouted louder, ignoring her.

The top floor lit up. And in two long, shallow breaths, a faint light went on inside the bakery as well. Allie didn’t know what to expect, who to expect, and her heart galloped with anticipation.

A tall figure strolled from the back of the bakery to the door where she and Brandon had been waiting. A man, she realized as he came closer. He unlocked the door and stepped into the porch light.

Dominic had been fast asleep when his room’s walls shook with heavy pounding and his friend’s voice pierced his blissful silence.

What a friend, he thought, if Brandon had nothing better to do than wake him up before a working day.

The people of Sycamore Falls prolonged their days with the coming of fall.

Why, exactly, he didn’t understand, since the sun was setting earlier, and the weather was cooler.

Yet his neighbors engaged in late-night walks, movie nights, late dinners, and other events that came alive only when the leaves started to turn, as if the moon shone brighter this season than the rest of the year.

There was indeed something about fall nights in Sycamore Falls, and it was Dom’s favorite time of the year in this town, but he didn’t like it enough to sacrifice his sleep for it.

Running a bakery meant he was up before dawn to warm up the ovens, prepare the doughs, fillings, breads, and pastries of the day, clean the space, check his orders, and perform many other tasks.

Dominic had a hard time admitting it, but the truth was, he needed help.

Desperately. He was used to being on his own, something that came with his other, secret job.

And he had come here because of that: to fulfill his mission, then go back to the Order and start his next.

Dominic had been here for three long, unsuccessful months, and after the first one, he thought he might like to stay even after his mission ended.

It wasn’t the first time he’d made a home out of a mission, but it was the first time doing so in his hometown.

He had loved growing up in Sycamore Falls, and when his mission led him here, it felt like an opportunity for him to.

..set roots, maybe? He had gotten used to being on the road, traveling from one assignment to the next, but it was time to settle.

Get a job, be part of a community, and all that. How hard could it be?

Damn hard.

Because the people of Sycamore Falls collectively decided they needed bread with everything, always had a sweet tooth, and had established the bakery as their favorite gathering place in town.

Things he didn’t know when he bought the place.

But he worked hard to keep the business going and not raise any suspicions while completing his mission. Which took fucking forever.

Dominic enjoyed his peace and alone time and made sure everybody was aware of that.

He considered ignoring Brandon, but couldn’t dismiss the urgency in his voice.

Begrudgingly, he went downstairs and opened the door to find Brandon and a stranger—a Witch, he noticed by her bright red hair—crowding his doorstep.

He swept his eyes over the Witch’s long legs and bare arms. She wore thin leather flats and a flimsy green dress that did nothing against the chill night. Rich red hair framed a freckled, round face and brushed her waist in lush, wild curls.

“What?” Dominic barked at Brandon, his voice heavy with sleep. The Witch flinched and took half a step back. Her big brown eyes went wide, and her rosy mouth parted.

“Glad to see you’re in good spirits, Dom,” Brandon said and clapped him forcefully on the shoulder. “I found someone to help you at the bakery. This is Alecsandra,” his friend said and pointed to the beautiful Witch.

A tall, broad man stepped outside the bakery wearing nothing but black pajama pants.

Immediately, Allie tried to Read him as she did Brandon, throwing her magic at him like a pointy arrow.

She was met with an invisible wall of steel, making it impossible for her magic to reach him.

Did he also not have magic? But still... She should have Read that.

The bothered man stared at her, his eyes falling and staying on her hair. Maybe he didn’t want to work with a Witch; not many people did, and Allie couldn’t blame him.

But she stared right back at his sleep-ruffled chestnut hair that swept his shoulders, his huge figure, his bare chest. Sharp jaw, handsome face. She bet his green eyes were breathtaking in daylight and hoped they were kinder when he wasn’t annoyed.

“She’s looking for a place to stay and a job,” Brandon described in her stead.

“And you thought bringing her here in the middle of the night was a good idea?” the man asked Brandon, who rolled his eyes in response.

“You’re looking for help, and she’s looking for work,” Brandon repeated and gestured through his words with open palms. They were quiet for a long moment, the tension building and growing like a creature between them.

Allie tried to keep her eyes off the man’s naked chest, off his tense and well-defined muscles, off the tattoo around his left arm she couldn’t discern.

She did a poor job of it, her eyes flicking back and forth between his skin and the doorframe.

Brandon groaned and sighed loudly before placing his hand on Allie’s arm. “This is Dominic Ranford, the owner of Dom’s Sweets. I promise he has manners,” he added, throwing a pointed look at the bakery owner as if daring him to prove him wrong.

“Hi, I’m Allie,” she rushed to say. “Allie Wells.” But judging by the way his mouth pursed and his brows furrowed into a sharp scowl…he was never going to call her Allie.

Dominic crossed his arms over his chest, the movement straining the muscles she strived not to stare at. He studied Allie as if he wanted to extract everything there was to know about her onto a piece of paper and read it rather than talk to her. His jaw clenched and his green eyes turned to slits.

“Do you have any experience baking?”

Allie knew there was only one answer she could give Dominic if she wanted to get this job.

And she desperately wanted this job. At least for tonight, and for a couple of days, she had to work for him.

If things didn’t work out, Sycamore Falls seemed big enough for her to find another place.

Brandon had said there were mountains and forests around, which sounded like the perfect place for her to practice controlling her fire. She had to stay in Sycamore Falls.

“Yes,” Allie answered with fake confidence. “I used to bake with my mom.” Partially true, as Petra used to do all the baking, and Allie used to do all the eating. But Dominic didn’t need to know that.

“You would also be in charge of cleaning. Sometimes deliveries,” Dominic added, his scrutinizing look burning hot patches into her cold skin. His scowl remained intact, but he raised a challenging eyebrow. Did he expect her to refuse the additional tasks? Ha.

“That’s perfectly fine.” Cleaning and deliveries were part of her chores in the coven; cleaning was a daily duty, and she would deliver potions and other orders to the villagers two times per week.

Granted, she knew Pearls Fields like the back of her hand, and Sycamore Falls was a few times bigger than her old village.

But she would manage. She had to. She had to practice and master her fire, so she could go back to her coven and her life, and this was the perfect place.

“Why don’t you try to work together for a few days and see how it goes?” Brandon suggested, obviously out of patience. He took two steps back and saluted Dominic as the owner opened his mouth to argue. “Have a good night!”

And then he ran away from the bakery’s garden, leaving Allie alone with Dominic.

The mountainous man said nothing and continued to stare at her, as if she was an object of great confusion to him. Allie realized it was up to her to convince him to hire her through any means necessary. She wasn’t below begging, but she held a tiny flicker of hope that it wouldn’t get there.

“Look, Mr. Ranford,” she started and straightened her back, looking him in the eyes.

“I’m a great worker, I never complain, and I will do my best to help you with anything you need.

” All of these things were true. “Give me a chance, at least for a couple of days, and if you cannot make use of me, I will leave,” she promised.

Dominic didn’t bat an eye, didn’t even breathe for all she knew. And how was he standing half-naked in this cold without flinching, when Allie barely kept her teeth from chattering?

The fact that she couldn’t Read him didn’t give her peace.

And with every second spent in his presence, Allie leaned toward him being a mean boss rather than a kind one.

Nothing new under the sun—Lydia hadn’t exactly been the picture of kindness toward Allie in the months she’d spent with the Silverbarks.

She could endure anything for the seven weeks before she went back to her coven and the familiar meanness of her Magistra.

“Please,” Allie added in her last attempt before resorting to begging on her knees. She held his scrutinizing look, although it chilled her more than the crisp night wind. After what felt like days with no end, Dominic exhaled and uncrossed his arms.

“The wage is one hundred per week, work starts at five every morning, and the bakery is open every day from half past eight to five in the afternoon with shorter weekend hours. Any questions?” Dominic asked as he turned his back on her, walking back into the dimly lit bakery.

“No!” Allie shrieked. Even if she didn’t know where she was going to stay, or what her early morning tasks were, or a bunch of other things. Instead, she squealed from the doorway, “Thank you, Mr. Ranford!”

Dominic stopped somewhere in the middle of the bakery and turned his head enough to grunt over his shoulder.

“Are you coming?”