Chapter 5
Ada left a week later, and Milly had cried as they’d said goodnight, knowing she’d be sneaking away in the early hours, trying not to disturb anyone.
This morning, Milly had awoken to an empty house.
Ada had warned her that Theo, as a baker, was often up and out early and sometimes didn’t get back till late.
In the quiet of the house, Milly dressed and pulled back the curtains, admiring the view (minus Theo swimming) before making her way downstairs.
On her way, she glanced through Theo’s open bedroom door, trying to learn more about him, but while there were a few photos on shelves of him and friends, there was nothing else overly personal on display. He was clearly a private man.
The stairs creaked as she walked down them and her hands slid along the papered walls.
The place was rickety but charming. The pattern on the paper was faded, the paintwork scuffed, and the ceiling could do with a lick of paint too, but she liked the feel of the place.
It had a calm, tranquil vibe. It was a home.
She took some footage as she went and before she left she made a short video to update her followers on the move she’d made.
As she stepped outside, Milly swapped her glasses for sunglasses.
In her mind Copenhagen was a cold and snowy place.
She wasn’t quite sure why, but that was how Milly had always imagined it, how she thought of most Scandinavian countries.
But the sun was shining, it was beautifully warm, and if she took a really deep breath she could just get a whiff of fresh water from the canals, yet the overriding smells were of coffee and delicious pastries.
She made her way to the café, noting again as she walked along the cobbled canal-side street that a lot of the others were filling up already with early morning tourists and locals grabbing a bite before work.
Again, taking out her phone, Milly filmed some footage, particularly of the café, knowing she’d use it later.
It swayed gently on the water, and she hopped on board to find Theo exactly where she’d seen him a week before, working at the counter with his back to the empty tables and chairs.
He turned as soon as she walked in and a nervous, perfunctory smile spread across his face.
She had to convince him she wasn’t there to take over his business but only to help.
She’d met with this sort of resistance a million times before in her day job, when clients grew nervous of her advice simply because it was new and different to what they’d expected.
That didn’t seem to be the case with Theo though.
She wasn’t sure why he’d grown so defensive, particularly as Ada said it was out of character, but she was determined to find out.
When she’d looked, the topline financials hadn’t been exactly encouraging but she hadn’t immediately entered panic mode, though she needed the more detailed ones from Theo so she could dig a little deeper.
Whatever the reason for his response, once she knew the root cause, she’d be able to tread more gently and bring him on board with her ideas without frightening him.
‘Morning,’ she said, swapping her sunglasses back to her normal, inside ones.
‘Hej,’ he replied, with another quick nervous glance over his shoulder. He was kneading again and Milly made sure not to stare at his shoulders, even though she desperately wanted to.
‘What are you making?’
‘Cinnamon buns.’
He deftly grabbed an enormous rolling pin and began to roll the dough before brushing on a layer of melted butter and sprinkling on heavy handfuls of cinnamon and sugar mixed together.
‘They’re my favourite.’ Although the cardamom bun she’d had yesterday was now wrestling for the top spot. Milly’s mouth watered. She waited for him to reply, but he didn’t, concentrating hard on his work.
Then, without speaking, Theo went to a large rack where a tray of baked and delicious-looking buns drizzled delicately with icing were cooling, took one, put it on a small plate and handed it to her.
‘Oh, thanks.’
He caught her eye but swiftly looked away.
There was that niceness again. But could it be trusted or would he turn once she started to make suggestions about the business? She went to a table (they were all empty again) and tore off a piece and popped it in her mouth.
‘Oh my God!’ she said again, just as she had when she’d eaten the cardamom bun. ‘This is amazing. This is unlike anything I’ve ever eaten before. Much better than the ones I buy at coffee chains or the supermarket.’
Theo, who’d returned to the batch of cinnamon buns still in its early stages, turned back, that lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. ‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘It’s different to others I’ve had. Good different,’ she added quickly. ‘But different. Why is that?’
‘I make brown butter for the filling and add very finely diced hazelnuts to the cream cheese frosting. There’s also a hint of sour cream in there to give some more tanginess.’
‘Well it works. Do other people do this or know you do this?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what other people do, and people will know I do this if they come and taste them.’
‘But otherwise no? You don’t advertise or anything?’ She knew she was beginning to skirt on the edges of his defensiveness, but she had to know the state of things if she was going to help. She made a note on her phone to explore other cooking things he did differently to most bakers.
Theo shook his head but didn’t speak so Milly carried on eating, letting the matter drop to preserve the peace. Once she was done, she said, ‘Do you think I could have a tour of the place?’
Theo’s shoulders tightened and he sighed rather overdramatically in her opinion. ‘Okay but I need to be back here soon to take these out of the oven.’
Having finished the buns, he wiped down the counter and beckoned her round. She went and stood in the small space, unsure if it was the heat from the ovens or the heat from Theo’s body that was making her warm.
‘Over there is the café.’ He pointed in front of them to where she’d been sitting a second before.
Then he pointed at the worktop directly in front of them.
‘Here is the counter. And—’ He turned around gesturing to the small space behind them that contained a sink to the left, and a cupboard to the right and a bank of ovens just behind, down a small walkway. ‘Here is the kitchen. Anything else?’
‘Ha, ha, ha. Are you sure you want to stay as a baker and not become a stand-up comedian? Are you always this—’ she spun to face him and realised how close they were together, her throat suddenly closing and her eyes drawing to his kissable lips ‘—clever?’
There was barely enough room for two people let alone one and his eyes flicked down to her mouth, sending an electric ripple through her body.
She had no idea how they’d cope if they did get busy.
It would be very intimate indeed. She held on to her frustration and looked him dead in the eye, wanting his full attention as she continued her speech, but then his mouth moved as he bit the inside of his cheek and she was stuck to the spot, unable to move or breathe.
His eyes were pinned on her, but she noticed them flick to her mouth as she opened it to speak.
The air seemed to crackle around them, and she crossed her arms over her chest, only the space was so small she ended up pressing them against his torso.
The torso she’d seen when he was swimming that was chiselled and firm.
She needed to move.
Now and quickly.
She should not be feeling this attracted to someone so soon after ending things with Tom and especially someone she had to live and work with for the summer.
Why was she feeling this way? Had her relationship with Tom simply grown lukewarm, as Ada had said, and she hadn’t even realised it?
She wasn’t missing him; that was for certain.
Theo seemed to watch the emotions play out on her face and he frowned in confusion. She cleared her throat and backed away, almost sending the cups flying again.
‘That was very helpful, thank you,’ she replied sarcastically. ‘Is there anywhere else I should see?’
Without looking at her, he moved out from behind the counter and she followed.
She caught his eye, sadness flushing his features, softening his expression and it was clear that underneath his sarcasm and bravado, he loved his business, and it was hurting him that it wasn’t doing as well as he hoped.
‘There’s another space downstairs. The lower deck, but we’ve never bothered opening it up. We’ve never needed the extra space.’
‘Does it look like this?’
‘Go and see for yourself.’ His tone had grown colder again and he moved back behind the counter, pointing to the end of the seating area to a set of stairs.
‘Why are you being so defensive again?’ she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘I’m just trying to see what the place is like.’
‘I’m not being defensive. I’m just busy. I need to stay by the oven. Cinnamon buns can burn easily. It’s all the sugar and butter.’
He went back to taking the cooled cinnamon buns from the tray and placing them under a glass dish on the counter, ready for the next lot. She just hoped that soon some customers would arrive to eat them, or all his hard work would have gone to waste. It must be demoralising.