Page 10 of Sweets and Sycamores
He deserved this.
Dom couldn’t look at her struggling to answer him, so he turned on his heel and barked an order to clean the tables and front counters before storming out of the bakery. He should address the problem at the root, which meant paying a quick visit to his idiot friend.
Dominic jumped into his black coupe and drove away from Maple Street, crossing the bridge to the other side of the town and winding through the forested hills to the farmlands area. The night was still strong, a couple of hours away from thinning, hiding the beauty of Sycamore Falls. Dom drove through the light of the lamp posts, pondering what he should yell about first when he met his friend.
Brandon owned and managed the Riverbend Farm, one of the best-known and in-demand farms in Sycamore Falls. He had customers from many neighboring towns and an entire team of employees living on the premises to get all the work done. The place was huge, and one time, when they were young and he went looking for Brandon, he ended up getting lost in the spinach fields.
As the road twisted to the right and the inky river came back into view, so did the red sign with gold writing and the farm’s name on it. Dominic entered the driveway to Brandon’s place, hoping he wasn’t already away doing chores. But his friend stood on the porch of his green-roofed, white brick house, mug in hand, and waved with a smile when he noticed the black car approaching. Dom’s first thought was to wipe that carefree smile off Brandon’s face. He got out of the car and slammed the door, heading for the porch.
“Morning, D,” Brandon greeted him cheerfully.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I take it you didn’t have coffee yet?” Brandon offered him the coffee mug, which Dom considered pouring over his head.
“Why did you bring her to me?” Dominic berated him.
Brandon pulled his fingers through his short black hair, averting his dark eyes. “Come on, Dom,” he started, and Dominic knew this wasn’t going to end in his favor. Every time Brandon said those three words, Dominic ended up doing his friend’s bidding.
“Why?” he pressed. He needed a reason, at the very least.
“She was alone at nighttime on the side of a rarely circulated road. I happened to be on my way back from the Sanders.” The elderly couple living in a secluded forest area, far away from Sycamore Falls. Brandon had learned about them from one of his customers and took it upon himself to visit and bring them fresh produce once a month. Dom had often baked extra goods when he knew Brandon’s visit was approaching, and sometimes, they went together. “Honestly, she was lucky I found her, and not someone else.” The meaning behind Brandon’s words sent a cold chill down Dom’s spine. “I couldn’t just pass by and leave her there, Dom. What if it was Mia?”
The question hit Dominic in the middle of his chest like a cement brick, and hot panic gripped him as if the words were true.
“Don’t talk about my sister,” he warned Brandon, who rolled his eyes in reply. His friend played dirty, putting that thought in his head. The idea that Alecsandra had no one to look out for her, as he looked out for his sister, didn’t sit well with him.
It pained him to admit that Brandon was right. Not that he’d ever,ever, let Mia put herself in a situation like that. But if it ever happened—after he was dead, of course—he would be a grateful ghost if his sister stumbled upon people with good intentions. Like freaking Brandon.
Dom didn’t know if he should hug him or punch him in the face.
Brandon watched the realization set into his friend’s face and offered his coffee mug again. Dom snatched it and took two big gulps, the hot, bitter liquid warming him up.
“How bad is it?” Brandon asked him. Dom scoffed.
“She doesn’t know the first thing about baking, she comes from a place of old magic, and for all I know, she is a master of tripping over her own feet.” That was and wasn’t the case, but Brandon didn’t need to know that. Dom took a note to borrow his tool kit and fix the yellow sofa. And get a new lock for the room.
Brandon chuckled and scratched his head awkwardly, again avoiding Dom’s eyes. He immediately knew why.
“You knew about Pearls Fields?” he shouted. “And you still brought her to me?”
“Yours was the only business in town that I knew was looking for help,” he said, raising his palms defensively, almost as if he knew he was one word away from having coffee thrown in his face.
“What else did she tell you? Why did she agree to come with you?”
“Probably because the alternative was to sleep under the stars and pray nothing and no one would endanger her life?” Brandon asked sarcastically.
“What if you were the dangerous one?” Dom asked, trying to make sense of all of this. Was she reckless? She must have at least used her Reading magic before climbing into Brandon’s car.
“You know I’m not!” Brandon said defensively. “But that just tells us how desperate she was.” Dominic sighed through his nose and shook his head. “She said she left Pearls Fields for a learning experience.” Great. A wandering Witch with no clear goal, no connections, and probably no money. “What are you going to do about her?”
Dom had no clue how to answer that. It would be an immense pain to train her to help him at the bakery. She would make a thousand mistakes and drive him crazy, when he could very well hire someone capable. Someone who knew how to turn on the damn ovens, who knew the difference between wheat flour and rice flour, and who lessened his burden around the bakery so he could focus on completing his mission.
But could he turn her away, send her roaming the streets looking for another place? Dom was unpleasant and grumpy, but at least his place and this job were safe.
What if it was Mia?
He handed the empty coffee mug back to Brandon and asked after a long sigh, “Can I borrow your tool kit?”
