Page 12 of Sweets and Sycamores
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 fooledabout 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. Hisemerald 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.
The hypocrisy of that thought hit him in the head like a hammer when he realized he might have given her the exact same look last night. He didn’t know the Witch either, but she was his employee now. And didn’t he deserve the benefit of the doubt, as a born and bred citizen of Sycamore Falls? Dom hiring someone should be a vetting card. If people were suspicious of his employee, weren’t they suspicious of him?
All this time, Alecsandra served the bags and packages he handed her with a smile on her face. He didn’t know if it was genuine or fake, but he leaned toward the latter because surely she noticed the long, rude looks aimed at her. Yet shegreeted everyone politely, asked if they needed anything else, and wished them a good day, that smile not faltering once.
His fourth customer was the first to alert him to his behavior.
“Is everything okay, Dominic?” Anna O’Brien asked, batting her eyelashes at him with exaggerated worry in her blue eyes. She wore her long, black hair in a sleek ponytail and visited the bakery every morning without exception, making her Dom’s Sweets’ most loyal customer. Anna had had an obvious crush on him since before he’d left Sycamore Falls to join the Order, and he tried to be polite while keeping his distance. The last thing he was interested in was a relationship, especially with one of the town’s sweethearts.
“Yes,” he barked.
“Are you sure? You look more bothered than usual.” Anna chuckled. The scrutinizing look she fixed on the Witch was different than the others, and Dom did his best not to roll his eyes to the back of his head.
“I’m fine,” he said and heard the bite in his tone. The people in line behind Anna made faces at him. Had he been glaring back at his customers? Dominic cleared his throat awkwardly, then asked, “Do you need anything else, Anna?”
“Ah, yes. Coffee to go, please. Also...” She twirled the end of her ponytail. “Are you free tonight?”
“Not tonight.”
Dominic turned to Alecsandra, who was packing Anna’s order of croissants and blueberry scones. “Can you make—” Her terror-filled eyes shot up, as if he punched her in the stomach.
So the coffee machine was off limits, too. Great. Dominic needed to sit her down and figure out what he had to teach her. And while he was at that, he should ask a couple hundred questions that he didn’t get to ask in the middle of the night.
Why was she here? Why did she leave Pearls Fields? How long was she here for? What was her power? Were the peoplein Sycamore Falls right to be so wary and unwelcoming? He hadn’t spent much time around Witches during his thirty-five years of life, and the ones he’d met had been…all right. Not dangerous, but not exactly innocent either. Except the one that made Witches the sworn enemy of the town.
Maybe he should get some answers before glaring at his customers on her behalf.
“Never mind, I’ll do it,” he mumbled. Dom noticed the coffee machine was almost empty. “One second, Anna,” he addressed the customer before running to the back to get a coffee pack.
