Chapter 27 Panic Pastries
Panic Pastries
MILLIE
Saturday can’t come quickly enough.
My days in the café, baking tray after tray of sugary treats, but my mind keeps drifting back to the meeting I have with Gabriel on Saturday night. We are meeting tonight as well, and I hope we can talk through this now rather than tomorrow too.
I should be excited, but all I feel is anxiety and uncertainty.
My stomach twist every time I glance at the clock. The numbers seem to taunt me, counting down the hours too fast and not fast enough.
I go through the motions of prepping dough and folding pastries, but my fingers feel clumsy as if they are disconnected from the rest of me.
I keep wondering what he’ll say. What I’ll say. But most of all, what we’ll decide.
But today is no different. I’ve got an interview to conduct, and if it goes well, I’ll finally have a general manager to take over the parts of the business that I stress over every day. It’s something I’ve needed for months, but right now, it’s hard to focus on anything other than Gabriel.
The bell above the door jingles as it swings open, and I glance up to see Marty Rosadetti walking in.
“Good morning, Marty! You want your usual order?” I greet her, offering a smile to one of my most loyal customers.
She nods eagerly. “Oh, yes, dear, that would be delightful. And throw in some of those new pastries you just started selling, too!”
I can’t help but smile. Ever since I made those batches of maritozzis, they’ve been a best-seller here at the café. They’re not quite as good as Mamma Sirolli’s, but people seem to love them just the same.
“You got it, Marty,” I say, quickly snapping the lip on her coffee and ringing her up.
“These are dangerous,” Marty says, eyeing the maritozzis. “If you keep baking like this, I’ll have to size up my church clothes.”
I laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She winks. “It was meant to be, dear.”
As I finish her order, I notice someone new walking through the door. My interview is here.
“I’ll be right with you!” I call out to them, quickly finishing the transaction and waving Marty off.
The interview goes smoothly, and I end up hiring Baylee as my new general manager.
She’s fresh out of college with a degree in business management, and she needs a hands-on experience before she opens her own business.
She seems like a perfect fit, eager and motivated, and I’m already feeling relief knowing she’s here to help run things.
After we shake hands, Baylee pauses. This place…it feels like home. I hope I can do it justice.”
Her words strike something in me. The cafe is home. It’s where of poured all my love, late nights, and quiet triumphs.
“You will,” I tell her with a smile. “We’re building something special here. And now…I finally don’t have to do it alone.”
The lunch rush hits harder than usual today, and I’m thankful I called in my extra employees. Paninis have become a huge hit, and we’ve been slammed ever since we added them to the menu. It’s a good problem to have, but it also means I’m on my feet longer every day.
The kitchen is filled with the sharp hiss of the panini press and the scent of roasted garlic and melted mozzarella.
I wipe swear from my brow and hand off a bag to a waiting customer just as another order ticket prints.
It’s relentless but familiar. I don’t mind the chaos when I’m this busy.
It’s the quiet moments that get to me. That’s when my mind wander back to him.
Once the rush dies down, I tackle a few pastry orders before I can leave for the day. Just as I’m cleaning up the last remnants of the lunch shift, the door opens up again.
“Hey Mills, you almost done?” Kenna’s voice calls from across the room.
I look up to see her striding in with that knowing smirk of hers.
“Not even close,” I sigh. “I have these big orders to pack up before I leave. I should’ve done these yesterday, but I was too distracted.”
Kenna shakes her head, clicking her tongue.
“Well, I came by to see if you want me to add a few highlights to your hair to freshen it up. I have some extra time now before my next client,”
I keep packing, refusing to look at her. I really don’t want to get into this with her today.
“I don’t really care about my hair, Ken,” I mutter, finishing tying a bow around one of the pastry boxes.
Kenna crosses her arms, leaning against the counter with a mischievous grin.
“Aren’t you meeting Gabriel tonight?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to look like a sexy snack when you meet him?”
I stop in my tracks, the weight of her words hitting me harder than expected. “Yes. I’m meeting with Gabriel,” I say, forcing a shrug. “But I’m sure it isn’t going to be as exciting as you think it is.”
Kenna pushes off the counter, striding toward the door. “Be at the salon when you’re done. If you don’t show up within an hour, I will come looking for you.”
“Fine,” I groan, knowing it’s pointless to argue.
Later, in her chair, I stare at my reflection in the mirror as Kenna foils my hair. “You’re quiet,” she says without looking up.
“What do you want me to say, Ken?”
She shrugs. “That you’re ready and you love him. Maybe you need to stop pretending that you don’t want the future that you were already building with him and Aura.”
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Instead I watch her work, letting her transform me on the outside into someone who doesn’t looks broken as she feels.
After sitting in Kenna’s chair—more reluctantly than I care to admit—Kenna deems me fit to leave the salon, though she’s clearly not happy with how unenthusiastic I am about it.
“Have fun tonight,” she says, smirking again, her terrible poker face giving her away.
I arrive at the restaurant fifteen minutes before Gabriel is set to meet me. I head straight to the back to find my brother Reuben.
I find him in his office, still on the phone with someone.
I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, trying to relax as I watch him talk.
Reuben’s always been the outgoing one in the family, the life of every party.
His smile is infectious, his energy constant.
He’s the complete opposite of me—the quiet one, the one covered in flour, lost in my own thoughts and pastries.
Finally, he finishes the call, setting the phone down with a wide grin.
“Hey Mills, what are you doing here?” he asks, his bright personality filling the room.
Being near Reuben, I can’t help but feel a little lighter. My shoulders tense up at the thought of tonight, but Reuben always has a way of making things feel a little less heavy.
Before I can say anything, he jumps out of his chair and pulls me into a big hug. I let out a surprised laugh as he squeezes me, the familiar scent of his cologne and his embrace grounding me for a moment.
“Hey, you,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice soft but full of love that he always has in spades. “What’s going on, Mills? You look like you’ve got a million things on your mind.”
I pull back a little, smiling up at him, grateful for his unspoken support. “Just…everything,” I admit, my shoulders loosening a fraction. “I’m meeting a friend tonight.”
Reuben gives me a look, that knowing glint in his eyes. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press.
“Uh-huh. A ‘friend,’” he teases, complete with exaggerated finger quotes.
I swat his arm. “Don’t start Rue.”
He chuckles, dropping into his chair again. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying that if this friend happens to have ridiculously nice forearms and makes you laugh like nobody else, then maybe, just maybe, you should stop overthinking everything.”
“Alright,” he says, stepping back and ruffling my hair like he always does. “If they’re not here yet, you can wait back here. I was just about to head home for the night.”
I smile faintly, trying to seem more confident than I feel. “Okay, well, I should probably find a table so we’re not waiting too long.”
Reuben gives me a gentle squeeze on the arm. “You can get whatever you want on the house tonight, sis. Love you.”
The warmth of his hug lingers in me as I walk into the restaurant. It’s hard not to smile, even when my heart is still tangled up in worry.
The restaurant is buzzing with more energy than when I first arrived.
I make my way to the back corner to find a table, though I can’t stop fidgeting.
My mind races with thoughts of what Gabriel and I will talk about tonight.
Memories of the other night flood my mind—him looking at me with so much intensity, almost kissing me…
but then his phone had rung, breaking whatever spell had been cast.
I run my fingers along the rim of my water glass, rehearsing lines in my head.
I love you, but I’m scared.
I don’t know if we’re ready.
I want to say yes, but I don’t trust it yet.
None of them feel right. None of them feel like enough.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear a soft clearing of a throat.
“Hey, Bumper,” Gabriel’s voice is familiar and warm as he pulls a chair out and sits across from me.
“Hey,” I reply softly, smiling despite myself.
I remember that moment —his eyes on me, the way his lips hovered just inches from mine. It’s hard not to wish he had kissed me.
Gabriel grins at me, his playful side shining through. “See something you like, sweetheart?”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps up on me. “You already know the answer to that, Gabby.”
He leans in slightly, taking my hands across the table. His touch is warm and reassuring, but there’s an urgency in his voice when he speaks.
“Then why are we doing this? Whatever this is, can’t we just stop? Go back to what we were—what we are?”
I pull my hands away, shaking my head. I can’t let him do this. I can’t let him think we can just fall back into what was comfortable without addressing the truth.
“I don’t see how that is possible,” I say, my voice firm but filled with emotion.
“I don’t want to get married just because it is what your lawyer thinks is best. I need to be sure that we’re doing this for the right reasons.
I can’t just be a solution to a problem.
I need to feel like you’re choosing me, not because it’s convenient, but because you love me.
Because you want to spend the rest of your life with me, and not just because of Aura or some legal agreement. ”
He opens his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to plead—but I stand before he can speak.
“I can’t keep pretending that this is easy,” I whisper. “Because it’s not.”
His eyes are glassy and he looks like he is barely keeping himself together.
I want to hug him, but I’m barely keeping it together myself.
I stand up before he can say anything more, unable to keep sitting there, waiting for him to give me the answer I want.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, I leave, knowing that I’ve just walked away from something that could change everything.