I listened to a local country radio station as I navigated toward the bakery in town where I worked. The bakery, Bee Sweet, was perched in the center of Main Street, in between a bookstore and travel shop. Katherine, the owner and my boss, had started the bakery ten years ago, and before I was an employee, I was a customer. Bee Sweet had been one of my favorite hangouts as a teenager. I’d come in with Shelly and Sasha, the whole gang, or by myself, just to relax. I’d always loved the chamomile tea and the honey croissants; they were Katherine’s specialty.
Once she’d hired me on, I’d suggested adding filling to her already delicious croissants, so now we offered not only plain, but cream cheese, chunky strawberry preserve, pear and goat cheese, caramel banana, or any variation.
We served much more than croissants, whipping up everything from donuts, to crepes, to pies, to cupcakes. I loved working here. Not just the baking and Katherine, but I loved the environment. Katherine had decorated in yellows and whites, with murals of fields, flowers, and, of course, bees. The furniture was white iron. It was a happy place to work, and the customers loved it. Plus, we were only open until 2:00pm, so although my days started really early, my evenings were mine to do with, as I liked.
I unlocked the back door and let myself in, stopping as I started to pass Katherine’s office on the way to the kitchen. I peeked in to see Katherine sitting behind her desk typing furiously, a pencil in her mouth and a scowl on her face.
“Hey, Kat, everything okay?” I asked softly so I didn’t startle her.
She looked up, blinking rapidly before her eyes became focused on me standing in her doorway. She spit the pencil out of her mouth and said, “Hi, Gaby. What are you doing here, honey?”
Kat rounded the desk, knocking papers to the floor as she moved. Kat was the sweetest person in the world, but definitely not the most organized. I bent to pick up the papers, but she waved her hand at me. “Don’t worry about those, dear. I’ll get them later.”
I righted myself and smiled into her pretty face. Kat hadn’t changed much in the ten years I’d known her, and she was still one of my favorite people in the world. I was so lucky to get to work with her, doing what I loved, every day.
“I just came by to prep for tomorrow, and maybe make some pastries to drop off at my mom’s house,” I said, answering her earlier question. “Plus, we had the intervention for Scott tonight, and I need to clear my head.”
Kat rubbed my arm absently and asked, “How’d it go with Scott?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I mean, he was upset … didn’t stay long. He didn’t want to talk it over or discuss Victoria with us. He said that he heard what we were saying, and that he needed to think, then he left.”
My stomach clenched at the memory of the look on his face when I began talking. He’d been totally taken by surprise, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take him to forgive me.
“Scott’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Kat assured me. “He’ll be upset at first, but he’ll come around, don’t you worry. Go ahead and clear your head.”
“Thanks,” I said, leaning in to give her a quick hug before making my way to the kitchen. I stopped right before the entrance to open my locker and grab my chef’s coat. I placed my bag into the locker before shutting it, and entered the kitchen as I buttoned up the coat.
I inhaled deeply, reveling in the sweet smell that always seemed to permeate within these walls. The display cases up front would be cleaned out and empty, with any leftover pastries being wrapped up and put away until they were put on clearance in the morning.
We made fresh donuts and pastries every morning, and a few cupcakes for the afternoon, but most of our items were pre-ordered in order to diminish waste. Whatever was leftover got put into the ‘pastries made yesterday’ case, and sold at a discounted price. It was a pretty smart idea, which Kat had implemented a few years back. My favorite part of the day was early morning, before the sun came up, when it’s just my music and me as I’m making the day’s delights.
Once my favorite Pandora station was queued into the computer in the back, I began to gather the items I needed from the refrigerator and the pantry. Within moments, my hands were immersed in dough, I was singing happily along to Taylor Swift’s current hit, and my worries about Scott began to fade away.
Chapter 3 – Scott
I smoothed down the lapels of my suit coat as I stood outside Victoria’s condo. I looked around the perfectly manicured grounds in the upscale complex, procrastinating … I was not looking forward to the shit storm that I was sure was about to rain down on me.
I grabbed my balls to make sure they were still there, then took a deep breath and inserted my key in the lock. I shut the door quietly behind me and walked soundlessly down the marble hallway to the professionally decorated living room, oblivious to the walls lined with priceless art.
We’d agreed not to live together until we were married, and I have to admit, I’d been relieved. I enjoyed having my own space to go home to at the end of the day, and I guess I’d always assumed that Victoria felt the same way, although I’d never really asked. Our parents had approved, saying it would be inappropriate to live together before marriage. Although I didn’t agree with that sentiment on principle, I never argued, because I was happy to enjoy my freedom a little longer.
Now that I really thought about it, that probably should have been a red flag in our relationship.
When I rounded the corner my eyes surveyed the room before landing on Victoria. She was sitting on her favorite chaise lounge, a paperback open in her hands. She was dressed impeccably, in slacks and a blouse.
“Victoria,” I spoke softly, so as not to startle her. She was always called Victoria, never Vicky … Always so formal.
She looked up at my words, and I was annoyed to notice that her hair and makeup were as flawless as her attire.
Why did she need to look perfect when all she was doing was reading a book?
Victoria placed the book down next to her as she swung her legs down and stood, walking forward to kiss me on the cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said calmly as she pulled back to look into my eyes. She always seemed like she could see right through me, and when her lips turned down, I knew she suspected something was wrong.
“Victoria,” I said again. I figured the faster I said what I needed to say the better. There was no need to drag out the inevitable. “We need to talk.”
“Are you really going to start this again?” she asked haughtily, turning to walk toward the bar in the corner. She poured herself a glass of amber liquid ?? I assumed it was scotch, knowing her father ?? and turned back to me with a scowl. “What? Have you been spending time with your friends? Did they convince you that I’m the wicked witch again?”
I sighed heavily.