Chapter 6
So. We meet again.
There in front of Max, with its warm, inviting glow, was the whole reason he’d come back to Girdwood Springs: Sylvie’s Sweets and Bakery, somehow looking even more welcoming than the last time he’d been here.
Artfully drawn curtains framed the charming interior, with its rustic wooden serving counter, mismatched vases, and tastefully understated flower motif.
Soft, fluffy snow was slowly piling up around the windows, sparkling gently as fairy lights blinked on and off.
There was even still the same signboard on the sidewalk as the last time he was here – albeit half buried by a snowdrift – which appeared to have flowers growing out of its wooden edges, their petals dusted with frost. They were certainly the most realistic fake flowers Max had ever seen – the leaves felt absolutely real beneath his fingertips.
The overall effect was almost magical. Sylvie’s Sweets definitely had the air of a place that people would be drawn to, even if they hadn’t left the house with any intention of buying baked goods.
And business was clearly booming, if the number of people inside was anything to go by – he’d never seen a bakery this busy on a cold winter’s day. He was glad to see that Sylvie was doing well for herself.
Not that he knew her at all beyond their brief interactions on the day he’d visited, but she’d seemed like a friendly and genuine person who was also possessed of a fiery determination.
He’d been glad when her cakes had been just as appealing as she herself had been – writing positive reviews for nice people was the best part of his job.
Well, that, and all the amazing food he got to eat. That was definitely a perk.
Speaking of amazing food – the door opened briefly as a customer bustled out into the frigid winter air, and the heady aroma of freshly baked cakes and cookies danced gently on the breeze in their wake.
That smell…
Operating almost on autopilot, Max caught the door before it could fully close, the tiny bell on the door jangling as he pulled it shut behind him.
He was generally pretty good about maintaining a professional detachment about food when he was in work mode, but he was in vacation mode now, and the warm, spicy aroma coming from the bakery was irresistible.
Sure, he’d eaten some of the cakes that had been at the B&B, and they’d been fantastic – but there was definitely something to be said for eating good food at its absolute freshest, in the environment it was intended to be consumed in.
And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed to get away from the B&B for a bit.
It had been nerve-wracking, eating breakfast and knowing that Poppy was right on the other side of that door, potentially about to burst through at any moment and charm him into a tongue-tied mess without even trying.
It had been with both relief and disappointment that he’d finished his breakfast on his own, still no closer to working out what he wanted to do about the whole Poppy conundrum.
He wasn’t the type to ask out women he barely knew, and he knew that he didn’t want something quick with Poppy – it would just be giving himself a taste of what he knew he wanted for the long term.
He didn’t know how he knew this, and the intensity of his feelings was confusing, to say the least, but he knew that he wanted to be with her for much longer than the next few days.
Which was why he now found himself at Sylvie’s Sweets. Maybe getting out and distracting himself for a while would help him to look at things from a more rational mindset and find some clarity.
And, of course, he really wanted to eat some cake.
Joining the line at the counter, he attempted to get a good look at the cakes and pies that were on display, but there were so many customers that he could barely manage a glimpse here and there.
Max wasn’t too concerned – he was confident that anything he chose would be worth his time.
Maybe it was even better this way, being forced to make a decision at the last moment rather than spending his entire time in the line agonizing over what to get…
and then changing his mind again at the last second, anyway.
In any case, there was a menu above the counter that he could look at. It was never as good as seeing the cake itself, in his opinion, but sometimes it was fun to read a description and then see if the final product matched what his imagination had produced.
He scrutinized the menu as the line inched forward, feeling a little overwhelmed. He really could just buy one of everything and gorge himself into a stupor, he was pretty sure. And then come back for seconds.
Before he knew it, he was at the front of the line, and still at a loss.
I’ll just close my eyes and throw a mental dart, and then whatever I’m looking at when I open them is what I’ll get.
Doing so, he opened his eyes.
Well, key lime pie it is, then.
He opened his mouth to speak –
And then he saw the specials board on the counter.
Banoffee bread and butter pudding, made from our own bread and served with locally made vanilla bean ice cream!
At the exact same moment, a wave of the world’s most heavenly smell hit him as someone out the back of the bakery opened an oven door and pulled out a tray containing a row of perfect, individually sized puddings.
“I’ll have the special,” he said, his mouth outrunning his brain. “And an English breakfast tea.”
The woman behind the counter smiled. Her name tag read Emily – she hadn’t been here the last time he’d visited. Not that it would make a difference, since he knew that Sylvie wouldn’t remember him. He’d made very sure that no one would remember him, that first time he was here.
“There’s a twenty-minute wait for the pudding, since we bake it to order,” Emily said. “Is that okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said. He would be happy to wait an hour just to find out what kind of taste accompanied that divine smell.
“Oh, and I’ll have one of the warm lavender cinnamon donuts in the meantime, to keep me going,” he went on, his mouth apparently having decided that it was going to do everything without his brain’s input from now on.
No, I agree, his brain whispered. Eat the donut.
Fat lot of good you are, he shot back at himself, but there was no venom in it. He really did want to try the lavender donut.
Emily’s eyes twinkled. “Good choice! The donuts are my favorite.” She passed him a table number. “There’s a table by the window that’s just come free – someone will be right over with your donut and your tea.”
Thanking her, he made his way over to the single newly free table, right next to the front window, which afforded a perfect view of the snowy streetscape outside.
The perfect place to enjoy cake and tea.
Of course, he could just namedrop himself as Aubrey Z.
and get whatever he wanted – but that wasn’t how he operated.
Besides the issue of having to use his powers more strongly in order to maintain anonymity, he wanted an authentic experience.
Everything he reviewed, he did so as a completely normal customer.
No special treatment, no free rides. Otherwise, what was the point?
He wanted his readers to know what they could expect, not what a reviewer could expect.
“Here’s your tea and your donut, sir!” said a cheerful voice, and he looked up to see a woman whom he immediately recognized as Sylvie, both from his memory and from her name tag.
She was looking a few years older and a little frazzled from how hectic everything was, but in a way that made it obvious that she was enjoying herself.
Sylvie, of course, didn’t recognize him at all – which was how he liked it.
“Thanks,” he said, as she sat the food down in front of him. He gestured at the hustle and bustle. “It looks like you’re doing well for yourself.”
“We get by,” she said with a laugh. “But no, seriously, we’re doing really well. Though this is crazy, even for us.”
“You deserve the success,” he said, before freezing up. It wasn’t like him to slip up like this.
Sylvie tilted her head curiously. “Have you been here before?”
Max thought about lying, or using a mild burst of his powers to distract her and change the topic, but decided against it. He was here simply for his own pleasure, not a media-publicized tour. There would be no reason for her to suspect.
“Once, a long time ago. It was pretty quiet back then.”
“I’ll say. I definitely didn’t have a smooth start when I first opened,” said Sylvie, with a reminiscing look in her eye that piqued Max’s curiosity, before she snapped back to attention. “Well, I’m really glad you came back. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, I think two desserts are enough,” he said truthfully, hoping that she would leave before he caved in and ordered something else.
“Well, just call out if you need anything!” Sylvie said with a smile, as she headed back to the counter.
Max examined the donut sitting on the antique-looking plate before him, nestled next to a spray of decorative herbs and flowers and a small scoop of orange blossom ice cream. It was so large that a part of him regretted having ordered it on top of a second dessert.
But the other, much larger part of him was eager to try it – and so, foregoing the dainty little knife and fork, he picked it up between his fingers.
It didn’t burn too much, and anyway, he didn’t even care – the rich smell of deep-fried batter meeting sweet lavender sugar and delicate orange blossom was making his mouth water.
As a food critic, he would normally be making note of things like the crunchy crispness as he bit through the outside, the fluffiness of the dough inside, the light floral undertones of the sugar, the way a tiny curlicue of steam was rising up from where he’d bitten it.
But as a guy who was here on his own time, the main thing he was thinking was, This is freaking delicious.