Page 16 of Sweets and Sycamores
“I thought covens were supposed to…teach you.” Dominic frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Allie peeked at the intricate tree tattoo that stretched over the tense muscles.
“There’s no other Witch with power like mine in the coven,” she admitted, looking straight into his teal-colored eyes. “They don’t know how to help me.” As she spoke the excuse she’d heard for months on end from her sisters, Allieheardit. Truly heard how ridiculous it sounded, so the puzzled look on Dominic’s face made sense. Allie shrugged and picked up the cup of tea, as if her statement meant nothing. Deep down, it meant a bunch of things, but her boss didn’t need to know that.
“I’ve met Witches before and never heard of this,” he stated. Allie saw the question brewing in his mind, and she had no idea why he chose not to ask her about it.
What kind of magic do you have?
She should tell him without being asked. That would have been the honest thing to do. Instead, she said, “Each coven is different.” To this, the man raised his brows, so Allie continued, “My mom was a Silverbark,” hoping this detail would be enough. Her boss nodded once, then took his first sip of tea. They sat in silence, sipping, glancing at each other only accidentally. At least, Dominic’s peeks seemed like an accident, whereas Allie was outright staring at the handsome man in front of her.
She had questions of her own, things she wanted to know about him and the town—mostly about him—but this moment here was about her. It needed to be about her, to give her boss the reassurance he needed to let her live and work here.
“What about your father?” Dominic asked. Unlike before, this question had taken her by surprise, and she struggled to reel it in, forcing her eyes not to turn into saucers. In her world, no one would have asked a Witch this question. Her boss must have met other Witches only fleetingly, then.
“I never knew my father.” This never made her feel one way or another. It was almost an unwritten law of nature concerning her kind. “Men don’t make families with Witches.”
Alecsandra gave him a soft smile, like she wasn’t bothered by what she revealed. Dominic, on the other hand, had an intense urge to strangle any man who would fall into the “men who don’t make families with Witches” category. The reason was beyond absurd to him, and he tried to calm his angry heartbeat before he spoke again. He steered clear of family matters, as he recognized it was too personal to share with…practically a stranger.
“How long are you here for?”
“Until Hallows Eve. If you’ll have me,” she added quickly, that soft smile melting as she parted her rosy lips, her eyes filling with hope.
Just a little under two months. That wasn’t such a long time. And he did need help around the bakery, not that she knew much about it. Or anything about it.
What if it was Mia?
And what was the alternative? Send her back to wander the streets and towns until she found someone else who wouldtake her in for this short period? People didn’t always have the best intentions, especially when it came to Witches, and he didn’t want to have Alecsandra’s misfortune on his conscience. If anything, he was being selfish for letting her stay; he would keep his conscience clean while getting help at the bakery. She just wanted to learn more about her magic, whatever that meant. He knew Pearls Fields was a small village of pure old magic, and nothing would compare to the knowledge she’d find in a town of new magic. He sighed through his nose and spoke on the exhale.
“Fine.”
Alecsandra smiled at him again, this time big and wide like she had done in the morning with the coffee cups, what he gathered was her genuine smile. She lacked that Witch-like sneer, and she looked at him as if he had found the remedy for an incurable ailment.
“Thank you, Mr. Ranford!”
She was about to say something else, but he cut her off. “Tell me your limits with new magic.” He needed to know what he was working with here.
“I spent a few years in Green Creek.” A town a bit smaller than Sycamore Falls, but a new magic town nonetheless. “I was around new magic there, and in the small apartment where I lived, but never in a place like this.” Her eyes scanned the room, and she chuckled, fixing them on the cup between her hands. “I don’t know how to use professional equipment like the ovens and the coffee machine here. But I can learn.” He read the unspoken challenge:if someone shows me.
In all truth, he had been kind of a jerk that morning. True to his nature, Dominic just nodded once and repeated, “Fine.”
The conversation with her boss went better than she’d expected. Besides him being mostly monosyllabic and constantly surly, which seemed like just the type of person he was, it had gone really well. He’d agreed to let her stay until Hallows Eve, provided she could help him around the bakery. And she was determined to do everything in her power to make that happen.
Back in her room, Allie laundered her new clothes, grateful that the machines were similar to the ones in Sam’s apartment.
In heroldapartment.
Allie was famished and excited to cook something delicious with all the ingredients she had bought earlier from the market. She spent the night in the kitchen, cooking vegetable soup and beef stew, and preparing breakfast and lunch for tomorrow. She’d settled on the honey-smoked ham and cheese sandwiches and a fruit salad for lunch.
After stuffing herself with two bowls of soup, she showered, snuggled in her new PJs, and spent the last hours before sleep stole her withBaking for Dummiesin her arms. On the sofa that was so, so easy to expand.
In the early morning when the alarm of hell rang, Allie wondered how many mornings it would survive until she smashed it against the wall. She growled into her pillow, her limbs heavy as she rolled over and pushed the hair out of her face. She lifted the clock in front of her face to stop the alarm. Allie fumbled with the button and stopped the horrible noise, blinking away the sleep from her eyes.
Only to see that it was fifteen minutes to five in the morning.
“This isn’t happening,” she groaned, jolting up and running around the room like a headless chicken. She picked the firstitems of clothing her hands fell on—a navy-blue sweater and jeans—put on her boots, and had the presence of mind to brush her teeth.
At two minutes to five, Allie unlocked her door while gathering her hair in a bun, the scrunchie between her lips. She walked into the bakery, hoping to be there first, only to find all the lights on and her boss looking over his notebook in the kitchen. He was dressed just like yesterday, except for his shirt, which was a deep green today, so much like the color of his eyes, and his brown locks were up in a tight bun.
Her hands were still up on her head, gathering her hair, and the scrunchie was still in her mouth when Dominic looked at her and said, “Morning.”
