Chapter Seven
Auburn
Finally, I could stop buying plants, and just in the nick of time.
If I hadn’t, I’d have had to switch from ice cream to plant store.
My apartment couldn’t hold another one without achieving jungle status.
In truth, I rather liked my leafy friends, but I had filled the bathroom windowsill and the shelves I’d hung on the wall above my love seat and had a couple more on the kitchen counter.
Adding in the fact I truly did need help if I was going to open for the summer foodie tourism rush I’d heard described by the other business owners in town.
When I threw a dart into a map to figure out where to go, Fate had a hand in where that point stuck.
Not only because it was perfect for what I wanted to do but because I had met Oakley.
Oakley had not said a thing to indicate he saw me as his mate, but I was glad to enjoy his company for the time being. Any moment spent with my fated—as my bear insisted he was—held so much joy. I’d spent two weeks surviving on the emotional rise gained by our brief conversations at his job.
The first day he was scheduled to work with me, I woke up when the first rays of sunlight warmed my face.
I scrambled out of bed and into the shower, anxious to be ready when he arrived.
No, it wasn’t a date, but I had a faint glimpse of the connection shared by my parents.
There were other mated couples in the sleuth I grew up in who were also very close, who seemed to get most of their happiness from time spent with one another.
I hadn’t explored the town as much as I had planned to, spending nearly all of my time working on getting the shop ready, but I had walked past a little bakery on my way back from the nursery.
Also new, The Bun occupied a tiny space on the opposite end of my block and specialized in pastries from somewhere in Europe.
Eastern Europe, I believed. I’d wanted to say hello and try their products, and what better day to do that than today.
A bell chimed over the door when I stepped inside.
The scent of yeasted rolls and spices and warm apples as well as something else, maybe sausage, filled the space, and a half dozen people were in line ahead of me.
Before I even got close enough to see what lay inside the glass case, my stomach rumbled and my mouth watered.
One by one, those in front of me got their orders and squeezed past on the way out with the teal-and-orange striped boxes emblazoned with the cartoon sweet roll that hung above their door.
I leaned to the left and right, trying to get a glimpse of what they were offering, but the space was so narrow, I had no luck until the final person in front of me paid and turned to go.
I squeezed against the wall, far more excited than anyone should be over a pastry. Maybe part of that was anticipation of sharing something delicious with Oakley.
“Next.” The being behind the counter was a shifter. Of that I was sure, but what kind? “Sweet or savory?”
I’d just laid eyes on the case, and I didn’t know what was even on offer yet, but I knew I wanted some, so I blurted out, “Both, if that’s allowed?”
The young man, built more like a fae than a shifter with delicate features and aquamarine eyes, smiled at me. “We are here to sell, so yes, you may have as many of either or both as suits you.”
“Three of each, then.”
He pulled flaky golden-brown pastries from each side of the case. They looked identical to me, but I couldn’t wait to try them and find out the differences. He closed the lid on the box while I slid my debit card through the pay slot. “It’s your first visit, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I accepted the box with a stack of napkins tucked into the side. “I’m Auburn and hopefully within a couple of months, I will be selling ice cream down the street.”
“Oh, I’ve seen your banner. I hope you will have fresh peach in summer. It’s my favorite, and it’s almost impossible to find.” He thrust out a hand. “I’m Vlad.”
“Nice to meet you. I will do fresh peach as long as I can get great fruit. Otherwise, it’s such a disappointment, isn’t it?”
“Ah, you get it. You’re going to be such a success. Maybe we can set something up so we can avoid the lines at each other’s shops. A back door handoff maybe?”
“I’m sure we can arrange something.” Holding up the box, I sniffed. “I can’t wait.”
“That’s a lot even for a bear,” he said, but before I could find out what he was, the person behind me tapped me on the shoulder. “Sorry, but my omega is pregnant and if I don’t get these back to him in about five minutes, I am blaming both of you.”
We apologized and I made my escape before anyone else in line could grow to hate me. I couldn’t afford to alienate the town before my doors even opened.
I arrived at those doors the same time Oakley did from the opposite direction. “Hi.” I held up the box. “Hope you haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“The Bun?” His smile spread across his face. “No, I don’t always eat first thing in the morning, but I’m hungry now.”
I had him sit at the card table, which I had managed to find a second chair for once I knew he was going to be helping me out.
Then I dashed upstairs and made us each a coffee, grabbed a couple of plates, forks, and some paper napkins before returning to enjoy our breakfast and plan what we would be working on for our first day.
“The Bun is so incredible, isn’t it?” He helped himself to one of the pastries, which did have sausage when he broke it open. “Oh good. This is my favorite of his savory morning versions.”
“It’s my first time. How did you know which was savory because they look alike to me.” I peered into the box.
“It’s the pattern on the top.” He showed me how the swirl was clockwise on one and counterclockwise on the other.
“See? He only does two in the morning and two in the afternoon, and what they are varies from day to day. He doesn’t say what they are either, but if someone questions, he will ask if they have an allergy or something they hate, and let them know if they shouldn’t order then. ”
“Sounds kind of magical.”
“Everything about Vlad is magical.” He settled in to enjoy his breakfast, making little happy sounds when he finished one pastry and took a sweet. “Apple walnut. Mmmm.” Feeding this omega could become a habit.