Page 9 of Sweets and Sycamores

HOW DO YOU KNOW DOMINIC?

The rest of Allie’s first day of work was fortunately uneventful.

She stuck to the tasks of packaging, serving, and cleaning tables between customers.

After the lunch hour rush, Dominic elbowed her and pointed to a sandwich and an apple on the kitchen table.

She thanked him and made a mental note to go to the market as well, to be responsible for her meals starting tomorrow.

In the late afternoon, after Dominic flipped the sign to “Closed,” she noticed there wasn’t much left of the goods baked today.

Dominic had baked several batches throughout the day to serve them warm and fresh.

He said he’d rather have people wait longer than sell them stale pastry.

It was also his strategy so that at the end of the day, he wouldn’t be left with a lot of unsold pastries and loaves of bread.

Dominic said all of this in very few words, most of which were grumbled and forced out with invisible pliers.

He told Allie she could have anything left at the end of the day if she wanted.

She kept a loaf of bread for later, then picked the last piece of strawberry chocolate cake and one of the croissants, which she gobbled down while her boss counted the money.

They had agreed on payment at the end of every week, which worked for Allie, as the money she had was enough for the next few days.

Now that she knew the bakery cleaning was done before the day started, Allie was taking her apron off when she noticed Dominic pulling out a stack of boxes and packaging the goods that hadn’t been sold.

“Can I help you, Mr. Ranford?”

“I’m good,” he said with a deep rumble inside his chest, not taking his eyes off the boxes. She waited until he was done anyway, just in case. Dominic must have felt her intense gaze, as he said, “I’m taking these across town.”

“Okay.” That meant nothing to Allie, so she dared ask, “Where are you taking them?”

Dominic’s hesitation was obvious, his green eyes moving swiftly over the five boxes he’d filled with the baked goods.

“Each day to a different place. Orphanage, nursing home, library, if they have a community event.” He spoke as if this meant nothing, as if he was just driving around town for pleasure.

But this gesture told Allie so much about him, about the kind of man he was.

A man who took a stranger in need into his home without much resistance.

“That’s incredibly kind, Mr. Ranford. Do you need any—”

“I’m good, Alecsandra,” he rushed the words out. “You can go.” All this time, he never looked at her once, his glare focused on the bakery boxes as if they had wronged him.

Allie gave her boss a short nod that went unseen, took her apron off, and left to explore the town. She had a list to complete: clothes, books, and food. Brandon had said Maple Street was the place where she could find anything, and he had been right.

Across from Dom’s Sweets was a bookstore, and two doors down, past a hardware store and a pharmacy, was a clothing store.

Allie kept walking up to the other end of the street, where she saw the green, wooden sign that read “Sycamore Falls Market.” In Pearls Fields, the market closed at dusk, earlier than all shops, so she decided to start there.

The market was devised as two rows of stalls facing each other under a sort of pavilion: a single long, wooden roof held up by multiple tall pillars set into the ground.

It was open on all sides but covered against the elements.

Did it snow in Sycamore Falls in the winter?

She’d never seen snow with the constant summery weather of Pearls Fields, and Green Creek had been even hotter.

Allie strolled through the market stalls, gathering wary looks from the vendors, who kept glaring at her red hair.

She smiled shyly, but that warm, pressing feeling of not belonging that had built in her stomach when she was younger didn’t come now.

With every year and every time she came across rude strangers, her skin had grown thicker, and she had stopped taking the apprehensive looks personally.

Now she focused on her shopping task and purchased all kinds of vegetables for soup and stews, honey-baked ham, chicken, a piece of beef, three different types of cheese, apples, pears, dates, and fresh plums that made her think of her mother.

All vendors had served her tight-lipped and with deep frowns on their faces.

No reason to be upset over that. At least they didn’t refuse her.

After dropping her full bags from the market in her room—and noticing but not caring that Dominic had left—Allie crossed the street and walked down to the clothing store. The door opened with a loud bell that drew the shop owner’s attention.

“Welcome,” the woman said on instinct before her blue eyes fell on Allie. She recognized the vendor as one of the customers from this morning who’d addressed her boss in a friendly way, asking him if he was fine.

Allie said, “Thank you,” knowing that she wasn’t welcome in the true sense of the greeting.

She quickly perused the shelves and hangers in the store and set her eyes on the sweaters and jeans section.

She was running her fingers over the materials and checking their sizes when a form shadowed her from behind.

“May I help you?” the woman asked in an icy tone, as if “yes” would not be an acceptable response. Allie shook her head.

“I’m good, thank you.” She sounded like Dominic.

With this, she hoped to regain some privacy, but the shadow lingered, and when Allie turned to face her, she found the woman’s eyes squeezed to slits, arms crossed over her chest, watching her.

“How do you know Dominic?” the shopkeeper asked. Allie’s brows shot up.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you know Dominic?” she repeated, her tone growing impatient.

In general, Allie was a kind, mild-tempered woman. She’d had her moments, of course, but they were rare and more than well justified, in her opinion. The reply shocked her as it came out of her mouth.

“How do you know Dominic?” Allie hadn’t spoken his name until now. It tasted sweet and warm and dangerous. Would she ever get to call him that?

The woman’s brows rode her hairline, wide blue eyes gazing dumbfounded at Allie.

“I’m Anna O’Brien,” she said matter-of-factly, like it meant something.

When Allie didn’t react to her very common name, she added, “Dom and I grew up together,” in a tone of voice that was a challenge more than anything else.

Allie’s heart squeezed on a beat when she realized this woman had known Dominic for so long.

Unreasonable jealousy sparked inside her, but Allie crushed it with the heel of her mind.

It didn’t matter. She was here only for a short while, so she glued a smile on her face and returned the fake politeness.

“I’m Alecsandra Wells,” she said, mimicking the Anna’s iciness, not wanting to introduce herself as Allie.

When Anna’s glare didn’t move from her face, Allie ordered herself not to roll her eyes.

“I’ll be working at the bakery for a while.

” The woman looked down her nose, a look of superiority very familiar to Allie.

She turned on her heel and went back to the counter, her slim ponytail swinging with the movement.

Allie gave some serious thought to freezing her ass off in Sycamore Falls. What if she wore multiple dresses in layers? Or she could sew new clothes. Was there another clothing store in town? Maybe she could find a kinder shopkeeper, or at least one that would ignore her and glare from a distance.

Ugh. It was already late, and she wanted to stop by the bookstore too. Allie sighed, her shoulders slumping as she gathered some weather-appropriate items.

She picked jeans and a purple plaid skirt, a pair of comfortable black boots, a few sweaters and long-sleeved shirts, fleece-lined PJs, and a jacket.

Anna wore her feelings on her face too well, and Allie noticed she was torn between being grateful for her business and kicking her out empty-handed.

Anna decided on the former, so Allie left the store with two large shopping bags.

She stepped outside into the fully darkened street, where all the lampposts were lit now, looking like cocky fireflies guarding the town.

The temperature had dropped even lower with the loss of sunlight, and Allie looked forward to breaking into her new clothes.

Even so, she enjoyed breathing in the crisp, cold air and was excited to live in a place where the fall season was thriving, all the more since this was only for a short time.

Bookstores were her favorite places, and in Green Creek, Allie visited one every couple of weeks. She went in eager to see the selection and purchase some books on baking and elemental Witchcraft in a quiet, chill place.

But she was welcomed into a loud and chaotic space.

The books were scattered all over the place, on the floor, on all the shelves, on the counter.

Some were laughing, some were crying, all chittering in a collective warble that made her want to cover her ears.

The shop was narrow and long, similar to all the other businesses here, and filled with dark red, wooden shelves that smelled like a wet forest. Allie looked around for the shopkeeper but found no one.

She checked the sign again to make sure it said “Open.” Searching through all this chaos and finding what she needed would be impossible.

“Hey, knock it off!” a voice shouted from the back of the store, followed by a clapping sound. The books flew back to their shelves and quieted in an instant.

A petite brunette with long, wavy hair and brown eyes hurried to the front but stopped abruptly when she saw Allie, her long, red wool dress pooling at her feet. She smiled at Allie, fleetingly pausing on her red bun, then asked in a chirpy voice, “May I help you?”