2
M y eyes opened, exhausted from tossing and turning all night, unable to drift off while a certain alpha’s woodsy, sharp aroma lingered in every corner of my store. The weathered timepiece on the wall announced the hour with its daily chime.
Six in the morning.
I flung my blankets off and pushed myself up with a resigned sigh. Tugging on my favorite worn-out jeans, I pulled a flannel shirt from my closet. I grabbed my phone, my fingers moving swiftly as I typed a message to Penny.
As I headed downstairs, my phone buzzed a reply. The screen lit up with Penny’s response:
Penny
On my way with caffeine. Double shot! 3 3 3
A faint smile tugged at my lips. Trust Penny to read between the lines of a simple text.
Fifteen minutes later, Penny breezed in, letting in a gust of crisp morning air, clutching two coffee cups from The Hideaway. His vintage blazer, a navy wool with brass buttons, looked perfectly pressed despite the early hour. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” I accepted the coffee, the cardboard sleeve warm against my fingers as I inhaled the familiar comfort of The Hideaway’s house blend. Steam curled up, carrying notes of chocolate and hazelnut. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Is that what that cryptic text was about?” He dropped into my grandfather’s old leather chair, the worn cushion sighing beneath him. Morning sunlight filtered through the display window, catching dust motes that danced around his head.
The chair’s leather creaked as Penny leaned forward, his pink hair falling across one eye.
“It wasn’t that cryptic.”
A perfectly arched eyebrow shot up as he pulled out his phone. “Hot alpha. Broken shoe. Suspicious timing.”
I watched him read my message out loud before setting his phone aside. He lifted his lavender latte to his lips with mock delicacy, taking a theatrical sip. “Pretty cryptic, if you ask me.”
I traced the rim of my coffee cup with my thumb, avoiding his knowing gaze. “I said mysterious alpha.”
“Isn’t that synonymous with hot?”
I gulped another mouthful of coffee instead of dignifying that with a response. The rich chocolate-hazelnut blend couldn’t mask the cotton candy sweetness of Penny’s omega scent, which always intensified when he thought he’d caught the scent of juicy gossip.
“So, spill. What happened last night… you know, other than Wilson’s getting vandalized?” His lucky penny necklace caught the morning light, the silver chain throwing tiny rainbows against my weathered workbench. The leather cushion squeaked as he stood, his cotton candy scent swirling through the air like a sugary fog.
I fiddled with my tools, arranging them in their familiar pattern across the scarred wooden surface, each one polished by years of use. “Something felt off. Expensive suit but wearing tennis shoes. Carrying a duffel bag. The way he moved...”
“Like?”
“Like he was too aware of everything. He moved with too much precision.”
“Don’t most alphas strut around like they own the place?” Penny swaggered toward me, chest puffed out like a peacock, his pink hair bouncing with each exaggerated step.
His spot-on imitation of alpha posturing made me chuckle despite myself. His flawless swagger—complete with an exaggerated alpha head-tilt—reminded me of every self-important alpha customer who’d ever waltzed into my shop expecting royal treatment. I shrugged, unable to pinpoint exactly what triggered this feeling in my gut. Was I reading too much into things?
“So what did this mysterious alpha look like? You know, for investigative purposes.” Penny’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his lucky penny necklace swaying as he leaned forward across my workbench.
I focused on buffing the leather of a worn dress shoe. “Older than us by a decade. Distinguished. Salt and pepper at his temples.” My hand stilled on the shoe. “The kind of presence that fills a room without trying.”
“Oh, Daddy material then?” Penny waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Penny!” I brandished my polishing cloth at him like a weapon. A flush crept up my neck, and I focused harder on the shoe in my hands, pretending the leather needed extra attention in one particular spot.
“Fine.” Penny sighed, innocently propping his chin on his hands. “Go on.”
“Custom tailored three-piece suit in charcoal gray. Probably Italian.” My fingers traced the edge of the shoe, remembering how the suit had draped over broad shoulders, each piece cut to emphasize his build without being ostentatious.
“Did this three-piece suit have a name?” Penny leaned closer, his voice laced with curiosity.
“Dominic Steele.” The name rolled off my tongue like honey, and I busied myself with arranging my polishing brushes in perfect alignment.
“Even his name sounds sexy,” Penny sighed, fanning himself with a vintage silk handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket.
Heat crept up my neck. “But those tennis shoes really threw me off.” I said, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“Mhm. And his face?”
I knew better than to think Penny would let the subject drop.
“Sharp features. He had these steel-gray eyes that seemed to...” I cleared my throat and grabbed the shoe’s mate. “Look, it doesn’t matter what he looked like.”
“Oh honey, it absolutely—” A cheerful chime from Penny’s phone cut him off mid-sentence, the sound sharp in the quiet shop. He pulled it out, then froze. “Leo...”
My own phone buzzed against the workbench. The neighborhood watch group chat exploded with messages, each notification making my screen light up like a frantic firefly.
Mrs. Henderson
Did you hear? Wilson’s Bakery was vandalized!
Mr. Gates
Windows smashed, graffiti everywhere
Mr. Tang
Bet it was Minnie. Everyone knows she has it out for Rosie.
Mrs. Henderson
Someone saw a suspicious car last night
Sarah
This is getting out of hand!!
“They can’t seriously think Minnie did this?” Penny said, scrolling through the messages, his perfectly manicured fingers flying over the screen.
I remembered the way she’d looked standing in the crowd of onlookers yesterday evening, stress lines creasing her usually immaculate makeup, and her red hair pulled too tight in its severe bun. The fierce rivalry between the bakeries had been escalating, but this? “No. Minnie’s competitive, but she’s not a criminal.”
“Tell that to the gossip mill.” Penny showed me another message thread, his lucky penny swinging with the movement. “They’re already planning to boycott her shop.”
I put the shoe on the counter and headed toward the door.
“Where’re we going?” Penny asked, trailing on my heels.
I grabbed my coat off the delicate brass coat rack—a gift from Penny—standing by the shop entrance. The soft, cracked leather settled against my shoulders like a second skin. “I need to talk to her before this gets worse.”
“Minnie? At this hour?”
“She opens early for the breakfast crowd. I don’t believe Minnie would stoop this low.” I hesitated, keys jingling in my pocket. “If she’s being falsely accused...”
“We need to get ahead of it before she’s made into a pariah.” Penny finished. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
The bell above the door chimed as Penny and I stepped into Minnie’s Bakery, the scent of cinnamon and fresh bread enveloping us. Minnie Goldstein stood behind the counter, her severe bun of greying red hair immaculate as always. Her sharp features softened as she recognized us.
“Leo, Penny,” she said. “Welcome, dears. What can I get for you today?”
My eyes darted to the display case, filled with an array of pastries. I scanned the neat rows of treats, each one meticulously arranged next to its neighbor. “Actually, I’m here for one of those apple turnovers. Heard they’re to die for.”
Penny rocked on his heels as he peered into the display case. I watched him brush his messy rose-colored bangs away from his face. “Make that two apple turnovers, please.”
“Coming right up,” Minnie chirped, her fingers deftly plucking a wax paper package from beneath the counter. The display case’s sliding door whispered open, releasing a gust of sweet-scented air.
“Guess you heard about Rosie’s place?” I fished out my wallet, watching her reaction from the corner of my eye.
“It’s quite the shock, isn’t it?” Penny added.
“Yes, I saw the damage.” Minnie’s fingers trembled as she reached for the tongs. “Terrible business, really. Makes a person wonder what’s going on in this town. Do the police have any idea who’d want to cause such trouble?”
“No, can’t say I’ve heard anything about that.” I kept my expression neutral.
I caught Penny’s subtle head shake.
Minnie’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, her carefully maintained facade cracked. “It’s awful. Rosie and I may be competitors, but I’d never wish that on her—or anyone.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual lately?” I asked, leaning against the counter. “Any strangers hanging around, or someone showing too much interest in the local businesses?”
Minnie furrowed her brow, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her chin. “Now that you mention it, there have been a few suits poking around. Not our usual clientele, if you know what I mean.”
“Suits? Like… business types?” I noticed Penny’s quick look my way. “Can you describe them?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome types,” Minnie said with a wry smile. “Expensive clothes, fancy watches. They’ve been asking questions about property values and foot traffic.”
I filed this information away, my mind racing with possibilities as I tapped my debit card on the payment terminal. “Thanks. If you remember anything else, let us know, okay?”
As Penny and I turned to leave, Minnie called out, “Leo? Tell Rosie... tell her if she needs anything, I’m here.”
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. Despite their rivalry, she seemed genuinely concerned. “I’ll do that, Mrs. Goldstein.”