Page 6 of Cookies & Kisses

If she wants a test, I’ll give her a test.

Madeleine

“Good morning!” I saycheerfully, entering Cookies on Monday morning for my first day of work. I’m determined to be professional. Two days ago, I was cradled in Mason’s arms, and it took too many minutes for my heart to stop racing. That’s not what I’m here for. I need to get a job—a BAKING job, and that doesn’t include daydreaming about kissing my boss.

Mason is nowhere in sight. I head through the swinging door into the kitchen, expecting to see Mason working on a batch of cookies, but I still can’t find him.

“Mason?” I call out.

He pokes his head out of the office, his hair mussed and his expression frazzled. “I’ll be out in just a minute. You can wait in the front and I’ll bring your first test.” And then he disappears again.

I heave a sigh, wishing he weren’t so handsome. Back at the front, I stand behind the counter, trying to find a way to keep busy. It’s only eight in the morning, well before the bakery opens for the day, so I don’t have much to do. The napkins look like they could be rearranged, so I start working on those.

“Here we go,” Mason says proudly, emerging from the swinging door. In his hands is a stack of about ten sheets of paper. He sets them down on the counter with a flourish. “Your first test,” he says, waving his hand over the sheets.

“What…what is this?”

“Your first test,” he says slowly.

“It’s…anexam? Am I back in culinary school?”

He shrugs. SHRUGS. “You said you wanted a test, so here it is.” And with that, he spins around and pushes the swinging door, disappearing into the gorgeous kitchen that is just barely out of my reach.

There’s nothing to do besides take this stupid exam. I’ll show him.

Twenty minutes later, Ishove the swinging door open with a bang. Mason startles, standing by the giant mixer.

“Done!” I announce.

“Already? With all fifty questions?” His eyebrows are knit together.

“Mm-hm.” I strut over to him and hand him the exam. “Feel free to grade it now. I’m sure I aced it.”

“There’s no way,” he says to himself, turning off the mixer and walking back to his office. He doesn’t invite me, but I follow him anyway. He takes out a sheet with answers and lays it next to my exam, then takes out a pencil to grade.

With each correct answer, his handsome face gets more and more stern. I can’t help the grin that grows on my face. Who knew making a gorgeous man angry would make me so happy? Oh, but it does.

He reaches the final question, not making one mark the entire time. I expect him to look furious, but when his eyes meet mine, there’s a mixture of admiration and surprise.

“I guess you do know some things,” he says.

“So that’s it? I can work in the kitchen?”

He huffs, his expression changing back to chagrin. “I didn’t say that. There’s still more you need to prove.” And he exits the room, leaving me to wonder what on earth I’ve gotten myself info.

I’ve been working atCookies for two weeks, and I still haven’t been allowed in the kitchen.

I also haven’t convinced Mason to change the name of the bakery.

I also haven’t gotten over my attraction to him.

On my second day, he asked me the difference between baking powder and baking soda. I almost didn’t want to answer, because I was so insulted. But that didn’t keep me from creepily watching him roll out the cookie dough that morning, a smile on my face at the flour that dusted the piece of brown hair that swooped across his forehead.

The day after that, he asked me what variations I would need to bake in high altitude. And then I spied on him scooping the cookie dough onto a tray.

And on and on and on.

Every day, a new test. Some question he wants to ask, something he thinks is going to stump me. And every day, Ianswer the question correctly, then fight my attraction to him, spying on what he’s baking.

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