Page 27 of Sweets and Sycamores
“Morning, D. Cheerful as always, I see.” Brandon smirked. Her boss managed to raise his eyebrows without disturbing his scowl. “I’m just chatting with my friend,” Brandon said defensively. “We’re friends now, right, Allie?”
She was taken aback by the statement, mainly because she didn’t have many friends. Or any friends, outside of her coven, at least, but only Freya had been remotely friendly to her. She made friends when she had been with Sam, but had abandoned that life together with him. Allie hadn’t held many friendships, but someone going out of their way to help a stranger was definitely friend material.
“Of course we are.” She grinned. Brandon grinned right back.
And Dominic… Well, nothing changed on his face. He turned around and muttered, “Be friendly on your own time.”
If not for Brandon’s snicker and head shake, Allie might have thought she’d done something wrong.
“Don’t mind him. I’m here for my bread order.” His dark brown eyes moved to the display case. “And maybe a couple of the lemon macarons. And a slice of pumpkin pie.”
“Coming right up,” Allie said. She packaged the pie and macarons, then slid a copper in the register and added two extra macarons to the bag. “For helping me. I still can’t bake,” she admitted.
Brandon took the bags from her with a smile. It seemed like he was always smiling. Or it was just easier for her tonotice because she’d been dealing with her ever-scowling, never-smiling boss.
“Thanks, Allie.”
She turned to go retrieve the bread order and hit her shoulder against a sharp corner. The box in question was not floating but was in Dominic’s arms, who balanced it in time to keep all the bread from falling to the floor.
“Sorry, Mr. Ranford.” Allie took a few steps away, making more room than necessary around the counter.
“Here.” The man practically shoved the box into the customer’s arms. They were good friends; they must be.
“Always a pleasure, D. I’ll call you later,” Brandon said.
The store’s bell rang and another familiar face walked in. Mia, the Archivist, entered the bakery and stopped abruptly at the door when she noticed Brandon. Her sweet smile melted, Brandon’s steps slowed as they came face to face and stood there for a silent moment. They exchanged some mutters and glances potent with unnatural awkwardness, yet likely full of meaning.
Because Mia’s face was flushed as she came up to the counter.
“Allie!” She tucked her hair the color of wet roots behind her ears. Today she was wearing jeans, a green sweater, and brown leather boots up to her knees.
“Hi Mia!”
“So you did meet,” her boss grumbled. The Archivist threw him a bored and unimpressed look.
“Were you hoping we didn’t?” she provoked him, but didn’t let him answer. “I’m here for one of your weekend specials.” Mia eyed the display case with big, hopeful eyes. Her face fell when she noticed the empty space behind the “Weekend Special” label.
Allie had learned that morning there was a different dessert every week that Dom made only during the weekend. This weekit was chocolate brownies filled with raspberry cream, and they were divine. No surprises there.
“I saved you some in the back,” her boss said and waved Mia in behind the counter.
Oh.
Oh.
Allie busied herself around the front despite the lack of customers, straining tonotlisten to the voices coming from the kitchen. She didn’t want to intrude and suddenly felt like she should sweep the bakery’s entryway. Fortunately, she’d left the broom out earlier instead of taking it back to the storage room, so she went outside and closed the door behind her.
It wasn’t long before Mia and her boss came out, Dominic…not scowling for a change.
Huh.
In the very long week she’d been here, Allie had never seen her boss act so comfortably around anyone. Not even around Brandon, and they were supposed to be friends. He was polite—most of the time—to the customers, and to her, but he was generally snappy and almost always glaring.
“Didn’t you sweep earlier this morning?” Dominic asked, that familiar frown taking its rightful place. Allie made a noise in the back of her throat.
“I did, yes,” she blurted, “but it looked as if it was dusty again.” She glanced between him and Mia, feeling her cheeks heat. Mia must have noticed and put her out of her misery.
“I’m going to sign up for the Harvest Festival. Do you want me to sign the bakery too?” Mia asked Dominic, hand on his arm. He nodded reluctantly and patted her hand once. “Allie, would you like to come with me? I can show you around town,” she offered.
