Page 7 of Sweets and Sycamores
YOU LOOK MORE BOTHERED THAN USUAL
Allie scrubbed the kitchen again, then the tables and counters in the front.
She even moved that fancy coffee machine and wiped the area behind and under it, and cleaned the display case as well.
With a soft brush, she dusted the blue velvet chairs, then wiped the front door’s window.
She found a broom, a mop, and a bucket in the supply closet and used them vigorously.
When the place smelled too much of chemicals, she opened the door and the windows, letting the chill morning air flow in and ignoring the chattering of her teeth.
She had earned her shivers.
Why, why hadn’t she told her boss from the start that she didn’t know how to turn on the ovens?
In the end, she’d had to admit it anyway, with the added horror of Dominic knowing she intentionally hid this from him.
Why she’d thought that a good idea was beyond her now.
Dominic had every right to bite her head off.
Allie wanted to keep her job while she strove to get her crazy fire under control by Hallows Eve.
There was no other acceptable outcome. Looking for another place was a waste of time when Sycamore Falls, and more specifically, Dom’s Sweets, was everything she needed.
But she had to get her silly act together in front of her boss and find a way to clear the fog that clouded her brain whenever Dominic spoke to her.
She had to do better and be honest, even when it was embarrassing.
No more lying or keeping things hidden. The bookstore climbed up her list of priorities, since she desperately needed to learn basic baking skills to help Dominic. More like be able to do her job.
A revving engine drew her attention to the street.
She closed the bakery windows and stood in the doorframe, watching as the darkness surrendered to the first rays of light.
The auburn colors of the sycamores lining the street came to life with shimmering shades of red and yellow, and the mountaintops surrounding the town basked proudly in the sunlight.
Pearls Fields held its evergreen beauty, but this was the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen.
Dominic climbed out of the car and crossed the sidewalk and small front yard in long strides, a toolbox in his hand.
She took him in, tall, dark, and broad, oozing confidence and annoyance.
She couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between Dominic and, well, all other men she had met.
There was something about him that drew her in, and she wished she could Read him.
Did he have any magic? What kind? What if he was a Wizard? Would he help her if she asked?
Probably not.
Allie stepped away to make room for him to enter the bakery and closed the door behind them. She cleared her throat and started on the speech she had prepared while scrubbing the place clean.
“Mr. Ranford, I’m really sorry about earlier.
” Dominic stopped in his tracks with his wide back to her and didn’t turn around as she spoke.
“I should have told you the truth. I don’t have any baking experience, not even domestically, but I am a quick learner, and I promise I’ll bridge the gaps in no time.
” She hoped she could keep this promise.
“This evening after work, I’ll stop by the bookstore.
Are there any books about baking I should start with? ”
Dominic was quiet, and Allie would’ve given anything to see the look on his face. After a while, she heard him sigh, the muscles on his back shifting under his shirt.
“Do you know how to separate eggs?” he muttered.
Separate eggs, separate eggs, separ—yes! Separating eggs was one of the few tasks Petra had entrusted her with.
“I do!”
“For real this time?”
Allie couldn’t fault him for doubting her.
“For real. I need to put the yolks in a bowl, and the whites in another bowl,” she explained, waving her hands. He nodded once, still not turning around to face her.
“Take bowls from the shelf on the left and twenty eggs from the middle fridge,” he said and walked away, down the narrow hallway. Toward her room.
“Is there anything you need?” she asked when Dominic stopped in front of her room. Allie had nothing to hide, and last night proved her boss would respect her privacy. Kind of. He had knocked first.
“I’m going to fix the sofa,” he grumbled as he slipped through the door. “And put in a new lock.”
Allie stared dumbfounded at the empty hallway.
Not only was she still employed, but her boss would go through the trouble of fixing stuff around her room.
All the more reason she had to prove to Dominic that she could be useful and not a pain.
“Thank you!” she shouted after him and sprinted to the kitchen.
Allie put the bowls and the eggs on the table and washed her hands thoroughly.
Focused on not messing up yet another task today, she cracked and opened the first egg gently, trying to keep the shells intact to separate the whites from the yolks without any shell pieces falling in.
With each egg, she gained confidence, her hands became steadier, and she caught herself smiling.
Maybe she should not have felt that pang of pride for accomplishing such a small feat when she couldn’t even start the ovens.
The eggs' cracking sounds were occasionally accompanied by hammering and drilling noises coming from the back of the bakery.
Dominic fixing the sofa instead of firing her made a spark of hope bloom in her chest. Getting rid of her might be a peripheral idea in his mind, given all her shortcomings, but she could lean into this safety for a while.
She hoped for at least two weeks before his patience ran out, so she would be able to explore the town and save some money.
When she was done with the eggs, Allie put the shells in the bin and cleaned the table. Dominic walked in as she was wiping it, wearing a black apron just like hers over his all-black clothes.
A muscly vision in black.
She whisked the thought away, shaking her head.
“You okay?” Dominic asked.
“I’m fine, thank you!” she shrieked. “And thank you for the sofa. And for the new lock.” Allie paused for a second but added quickly, “And for taking me in.”
Dominic grunted and started working around the kitchen.
Every time he took out a new utensil or ingredient, Allie tried to remember their place.
He gave her small tasks: hand him this and that, sprinkle flour or sugar over a dough he was mixing, tape the oven trays with baking paper.
She paid meticulous attention to each detail, and between tasks, she paid meticulous attention to her handsome boss.
Which she scolded herself for, over and over. Then proceeded to do it again.
Her eyes traveled over his straining muscles as he kneaded the dough with ease and mastery. She could have been fooled about the difficulty of this task if it weren’t for memories of Petra sweating and cursing every time she kneaded dough.
Dominic looked so much in his element, focused but content with each task, and when he tasted something he approved of, Allie saw a hint of pride take form on his handsome face.
Never enough to turn into a smile, though.
Her traitorous eyes moved over his arms and broad chest, up to his neck, and short of pulling them out of their sockets, she was helpless.
The man was attractive. And that was all there was to it, Allie decided, as she broke her gaze from him for the hundredth time.
That was how the early hours of the morning passed.
The place smelled divine, and when some cakes and pastries were ready, Dominic showed her how to arrange them in the display case.
He’d made ham and cheese croissants and kept two slices of apple pie for them to eat for breakfast. The croissants were buttery and soft, the pie was warm and not too sweet, and Allie fought to keep the moan lodged in her throat from escaping.
She had never eaten anything more delicious in her life.
Sorry, Mom.
Close to opening time, there was already a line outside the bakery.
“Is it this busy every day?” she asked, surprised to see so many people waiting this early in the morning.
“Yeah. Most folks in town stop by before work to get coffee and stuff,” Dominic said in one of the longest sentences he’d spoken to her.
Coffee, too. Great. Of course, coffee, too; why else would that machine be there? Allie prayed to whatever gods were listening that he wouldn’t ask her to make coffee using the fancy, overly-complicated machine in the front.
Dominic wiped his hands on the apron, which was now peppered with flour marks and dough smudges.
A lock of hair had pulled free from his bun and hung loose over his cheek.
His emerald eyes were sparkling, as if he’d come alive together with his pastries.
Allie wondered how a wide, genuine smile would look on him.
Her boss checked the time and gave Allie a short nod before he went to unlock the door and flip the sign to “Open.”
Dominic was used to the morning rush. He was also used to most people’s daily orders, so when he served them out of habit, he noticed Alecsandra’s puzzled looks.
What he wasn’t used to was the townsfolk’s sneers and suspicious looks.
Their usual smiling faces turned into glaring grimaces when they noticed the Witch behind the counter.
The people of Sycamore Falls were a tight, wary community with all the dangers looming over their lands, part of the real reason Dom was here.
They weren’t particularly friendly to any newcomers, but he didn’t remember them glaring collectively like that.
Sure, there was a valid reason people here grew to hate Witches in the last year, but that didn’t mean they were all the same. They didn’t even know Alecsandra.