Chapter 13
In the bakery kitchen,I rolled the dough with enough force to flatten a small asteroid, trying to ignore the persistent ache in my chest. I kept pondering what Maxwell had told me about Bishop stealing his inheritance and still feeling conflicted about his job offer.
I shook my head. No time for these musings. There were doughnuts to make and bills to pay.
As Lucia and I were preparing batters and dough for the morning’s baked goods, I tried some friendly conversation.
“Those cookies you made yesterday sold out. How do you get them so perfectly chewy?”
Lucia glanced at me over her shoulder. “Years of experience, honey. Talent that can’t be faked.”
Her words stabbed into my chest. Lucia didn’t know my secret…did she? Or only suspect? I mean, if she did, then she would’ve outed me to Bishop. My charade was too important to let falter now. I needed to stay calm and pretend as if nothing was amiss.
I nodded politely. “I’m learning a lot working alongside you and Bishop.”
Lucia nodded, stirring her batter with confidence. “Kenzi, unlike you, I’ve been with Doughy Desires for over twenty years. My experience and skills? Legendary. I know your marketing has increased our revenue, but I’m basically the backbone of this bakery.”
I leaned my hip against the counter. “And here I was, thinking it was the flour that held everything together.”
She shook her head. But I swear I glimpsed a small smile at my snark.
The kitchen door swung open, revealing Bishop himself. My pulse did a tap dance worthy of a Broadway musical at the sight of my handsome boss. He sauntered into the room as though he owned the place—which, of course, he did—his masculine scent of cedarwood and amber announcing his presence.
“Good morning, Kenzi.” His voice was rich and warm, like melted chocolate poured over a brownie.
“Hello, Bishop.”
“Morning, boss,” Lucia said from her workstation.
“Lucia.” Bishop acknowledged her curtly before turning to me. “Kenzi? How’s that dough coming along?”
“Great.” I hoped he didn’t notice the slight tremble in my hands as I continued kneading.
He turned his attention to Lucia. “Have you gone over today’s menu with Kenzi?”
“Of course, Bishop.” Lucia shot me a sideways glance. “But I doubt she’ll ever be able to make our signature pastries as well as I can.”
I gritted my teeth at her snide comment. If only they knew about the secret weapon I had up my sleeve—my grandma’s pet recipes.
“Lucia, why don’t you concentrate on your own work,” Bishop said, his tone indicating it wasn’t a suggestion. He exited the kitchen, heading to his adjoining office to do paperwork.
When I finished, I decided to tackle one of my own recipes, and retrieved my grandma’s cherished cookbook from my bag.
“What is that?” Lucia eyed the well-worn pages of the book.
“Something that’ll change Doughy Desires forever,” I replied cryptically.
Lucia huffed. “What do you have in mind?”
“Pet treats.” I opened the recipe book. “Think gourmet goodies that’ll totally shake up the bakery scene and put us in a whole new spotlight.”
Lucia scoffed. “You want to make pet food for humans?”
“Um, no. I’m thinking we could expand our clientele and attract more customers, like dogs. I’m going to make a batch.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can’t wait to see the boss’s reaction to this.” Lucia speared me with a narrowed stare. “Where did you work before?”
I swallowed. “Oh, uh...actually, I never worked at another bakery. I’m more of a freelance baker.”
Lucia’s lips tightened. “Freelance?”
“Yep. Just me, my apron, and a dream.”
“Right.” Lucia looked unconvinced. She stomped into Bishop’s office and shut the door.
Five minutes later, Bishop swaggered into the kitchen, his expression stern. “What’re you doing, Kenzi?”
My mouth dried. “Making yummy pet desserts?”
Bishop pursed his lips. “This isn’t what I pay you for, Kenzi.”
From behind him, Lucia’s snicker turned into a barely concealed cackle. She had ratted me out and was enjoying my discomfort.
I tugged at my apron strings. “But it might bring in more business.”
“Do you think I’m running a pet store? Stick to the menu,” he replied gruffly.
The deep timbre of Bishop’s severe tone made my stomach drop into my sneakers. My internal ‘Fraud Alert’ siren flashed like a neon sign above my head because I was less of a baker and more of a...well, faker.
And yet, I blurted, “It’s called diversifying the portfolio, Bishop. Ever heard of it?”
He feigned surprise. “Yes, but we only do traditional recipes in mybakery. Should we venture into cat toys next?”
“Only if we can make them edible.” I shrugged. “We can reel customers in with goodies for their pets and then dazzle them with our main menu.”
Lucia reorganized the spice rack near me to eavesdrop.
Bishop rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t think so.”
“Please? Let me make one batch,” I pleaded. “It’s my…my dream to create my own brand of pet delicacies. Plus, Maxwell doesn’t offer them. We could be more innovative than him.”
We stared at each other in tense silence. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, and the oven groused.
“Fine.” He waved a hand, relenting. “On a trial basis only, and if it doesn’t work, you have to drop it.”
“Okay! Yes, no problem. Thank you,” I rambled.
My heart felt lighter. I couldn’t believe he gave in. It was like George Knightley of Emma agreeing to wear skinny jeans. Stranger things have happened, right?
Gathering the necessary ingredients, I carefully followed my grandma’s formula, adding a pinch of this and a dash of that, feeling her presence in every ingredient that I measured. The delicious aroma of peanut butter and oats enveloped me.
As I mixed everything, my passion and creativity shined through with each stir. This time, I was determined to get the recipe just right. Bishop may rarely laugh or offer a real smile, but I was going to turn his frown upside down with these pet treats.
Lucia watched me from the corner of her eye, but held her tongue.
“Here goes nothing.” I slid the tray into the oven.
When the timer dinged, I pulled the golden-brown biscuits from the oven.
Bishop exited his office. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He examined the bone-shaped treats and nodded. “We can try them out today, but I won’t make any promises.”
Taking the tray, I walked to the front counter, and he followed me with a skeptical expression.
We helped customers, and I offered the pet treats to a few patrons for their pets to try, but each one refused. Just as I was on the verge of losing hope, in walked two regulars, each flanked by their own furry entourage. The first was a majestic Chow, its fur a thick, pure white. The other dog, a terrier, had an energetic spring in its step, its coat a blend of browns and blacks.
Inviting pets into the bakery might not be the best way to overcome the health department rumors, but seeing those wagging tails sure did wonders for my morale.
“Hello, Delilah and Barney,” I greeted them cheerily. “Would you like to try our nutritious pet treats today? We’re testing something new.”
The woman, Delilah, with the Chow shrugged. “Why not? I’m always on the lookout for healthy indulgences for Fifi.”
“Same here,” the terrier’s owner, Barney, said. “Toby can be picky, though.”
“Trust me, these are irresistible even to the fussiest of pets.” My voice oozed confidence, while inside, I prayed that my grandma’s recipe would work its magic.
I handed out the treats, and both owners presented them to their pets. I held my breath while Fifi and Toby sniffed at the biscuits, then opened their mouths and took tentative bites.
To my delight, their tails started wagging, and they gobbled up every last crumb. The room filled with the sound of satisfied crunching, and I could hardly contain my joy.
“Fifi never eats anything so quickly!” Delilah exclaimed.
“Toby either,” Barney agreed, chuckling. “You must have a secret ingredient in these treats.”
“Only love for our furry companions.” Grinning, I glanced at Bishop, who watched the scene with a mix of astonishment and approval.
“You might be onto something, Kenzi.” My boss nodded slowly. “Maybe I’ll consider adding it to the menu in the future.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
Smiling, I handed out two more biscuits to the dog owners. They ordered coffee and took it outside to the new outdoor seating area.
Bishop looked through the window at the dogs. “I suppose the pet treats would be a great way to expand our customer base.”
I nodded. “They’ll become my signature pastry, like your cupcakes are yours.”
Bishop leaned closer, his familiar scent masculine and alluring. “Look, Kenzi, I’m not blind. I know that you don’t have as much professional baking experience as you let on. But advanced techniques? Those can be taught. And you do possess a talent for innovation, which I admire.”
Wait...did he just give me a compliment? A whirlpool of butterflies made a ruckus in my belly. Oh, this must be my Elizabeth Bennet moment! He had seen past the flour smudges, my quirkiness, and my occasional mishaps to notice my flair.
I slanted my head. “Please elaborate.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice, and a jolt of electricity buzzed through me. “Even when you are knee-deep in a baking disaster, you handle it with grace, laughter, and determination. That’s not something I can teach.”
I let out a giggle. “Ohhh, sounds like a recipe for success! Or a kitchen explosion.”
Bishop shook his head, his lips twitching. “You’re an interesting girl, Kenzi.”
“Wow, you almost smiled! There’s hope for that grim heart of yours yet,” I teased.
The door opened and my teenage sister pranced into the bakery.
“Hi, Kenzi,” she said brightly.
“Hi, sis.” I gestured at my boss. “This is Bishop.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Bree.” She grinned at him. “I hear you’re the best baker in town.”
He smiled warmly. “Your sister tells me that your violin skills are just as impressive.”
I was touched by the gracious way Bishop treated my sister. Then…Maxwell’s words dimmed my view. They had rooted themselves deep within me, weaving vines of doubt that strangled the budding affection and respect I had for Bishop.
Then I reminded myself that it was none of my business.
“So, Bree…” Bishop said. “Do you plan to join a professional orchestra when you get older?”
“Yes!” Bree’s face lit up with excitement.“I even got accepted to a music conservatory, and I’m, like, really excited. I’ve been practicing since I was little, and it’s always been my dream to study music professionally.”
“That’s amazing,” Bishop said. “Congratulations.”
Bree looked down at her scuffed sneakers. “Yeah, but even with my partial scholarship, we don’t have enough money to cover the tuition.”
My face reddened. “Bree,” I warned. “Why don’t we discuss this at home? Inprivate and not in front of customers.” I went around the counter and took her hand, leading her outside. On the sidewalk, I let go. “I’m glad you stopped by, but I’m working, so I’ll see you later, okay? And stop worrying about the tuition. I told you, I’ll figure something out.” I ruffled her hair.
“Stop it.” She scooted away from me, smoothing her hair with one hand.
We hugged, and she ambled down the street toward our apartment building. With a sigh, I went inside to my post.
“Your sister’s a sweetheart,” Bishop said. “And you know what? Your pet treats have inspired me. I want to show you this new cupcake recipe I created. I’m planning to introduce it at the next bake-off event.”
“Who’s gonna watch the front counter?”
“We’ll hear the bell over the door if anyone comes in. Follow me.”
Thankfully, Lucia had gone to lunch, and we were alone in the kitchen.
Bishop began collecting ingredients—every movement precise and calculated. He resembled a sculptor, creating a masterpiece with each careful measurement.
“Kenzi, can you pass me the sugar?” He extended a hand toward me without looking away from his mixing bowl.
“Sure thing.” I reached for the container on the counter next to me and handed it to him.
Again, my thoughts wandered to Maxwell’s accusations against Bishop, but seeing this passionate side of my boss made it difficult to believe he was capable of such deceit.
I licked my lips. “Bishop, I wanted to ask you…” The words died on my tongue as he stepped nearer.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, then flicked up to meet my eyes. The tenderness I saw there made my knees weaken. He reached up, his fingers lightly grazing my cheek. At his touch, a shudder coursed through me and I swayed instinctively toward him.
“Yes?” he murmured.
His face was only inches from mine now, the warmth of his minty breath feathering my skin. This close, his tantalizing scent overwhelmed my senses. All I could focus on was his mouth and the dizzying beat of my heart.
In that moment, everything else fell away, and it was just us. My body trembled with the realization that Bishop was attracted to me, too.
“Ahem.” Lucia cleared her throat as she entered the kitchen. “I need to frost those sugar cookies.”
Bishop returned to his mixing bowl. His cheeks appeared flushed, and I inwardly smiled at the thought that I might’ve had something to do with it.
Grabbing a broom, I got busy sweeping the floor, while memories of that tender moment with Bishop kept replaying in my head, making me feel all mushy inside. Maybe his hard stance on not dating employees was cracking.
We had formed a friendship, but I knew like a slow-burning oven, it would take time for a real relationship to reach the perfect temperature.