Chapter 4 A Dream
The electronic cuckoo chimed beautifully as I opened the shop’s glass door and walked in.
Av? hated, and I mean hated, the cuckoo bell I’d gotten installed last year, but I absolutely loved it.
Every time the door opened and closed, and the cuckoo chirped, he’d glare at it as if he wanted nothing more than to strangle it.
He couldn’t, obviously, but it was quite a hilarious tradition between us and our employees.
I shivered as I settled into the plush chair behind the main counter. I’d forgotten to grab my coat on the way out – distracted as I was by a certain constructor – and now every inch of me was cold as fucking ice.
Just great.
The toasty air inside the shop was working a little too slowly to my liking as I dusted the slightly melted snow off of me, switched on the multi-colored fairy lights that adorned the front of the counter, turned on the laptop, placed my purse next to it, and smiled at Simran and Remi when they greeted me good morning.
As I looked around the shop, I couldn’t help but be in awe of what we had – Av? and I, I mean. We never took our shop, or its success, for granted, because we knew what it stood for, and what it meant to our family name.
The shop was my Bisav?’s vision brought to life.
He’d moved to Chicago with his family at a very young age, and by the time he turned twenty-three, he’d decided to contribute to the society by bringing an essence of our culture to life for the people and city he’d come to love and appreciate so much.
It’s only because of his vision and determination that Vila do Acaí is as successful as it is among Chicagoans of all ages, and I couldn’t thank him more for the legacy he’s left behind for the family.
Acaí is well-loved and used in Brazil. It could even be called as a staple of sorts, if I did say so myself. It’s one of the top match-up picks for dessert and baked goods for us Brazilians, which is why Bisav? had decided to introduce it to the American culture.
I leaned back in my chair and drummed my long nails over the stack of papers next to the laptop.
The décor at Vila do Acaí was a pleasant combination of purple and white, and everything in the shop sang of elegance and simplicity.
Lavender walls and ceilings, with massive frames of Acaí desserts hung candidly on the former.
White-tiled flooring, glass display cases, along with warm lighting throughout the area that kinda contrasted, but also complemented, the shop.
The parcel/purchase counter, which Remi handled, was opposite mine, while the cute little desk next to it was for taking (from customers) and giving out (to our dealers) both retail and bulk inventory orders.
Simran took care of all that good stuff, along with the ice cream station, because Lord knows Remi would be a mess by the end of the day if he were to do any of that.
We had a small baking kitchen to my left – exactly opposite to the shop’s entrance – where our bakers, Cruz and Daniel, made fresh Acaí-stuffed muffins, cupcakes, pastries, breads, etc. for everyday customers, grocery stores, and online platforms.
Simran was a couple years younger than Remi and I, and had decided to become a permanent employee at Vila do Acaí last year, after announcing that she’d quit her other job as an assistant HR at a restaurant due to the constant disrespect of work ethics by both her colleagues and seniors.
Remi, however, has been working at the shop since he was eighteen.
Our families go way back, and our grandfathers have a friendship that movies are made and books are written about.
“Hey, kid.”
I blinked and looked up, and found Cruz grinning down at me.
His hair, which was always in a bun, and his beard, which he liked to braid because it was so long, were both hidden behind lavender bouffant caps.
His purple apron was splattered with flour, along with some Acaí as well, and when I quirked a brow at him, he placed a small tray with three cupcakes in it, in front of me.
“Had these out of the oven and cooled just for you. Hope you like em’,” he said, still grinning. The guy looked like Seth Rogen on steroids, but he had a personality of a friendly, next-door puppy. I swear.
“And, in case you don’t like them, you can always shove them in his eyeballs!” Daniel hollered from the kitchen.
I laughed, just as Cruz scowled and turned to glare at Daniel.
“I wonder, every night I go to bed, why I haven’t shoved your smug face into the hearth by now.
For the number of times you get on my nerves on a daily basis, I’ve already burned you in at least two-hundred different ways in my head.
I just need Carina’s permission to do it in real life. ”
I placed a hand over my mouth and laughed harder. Those two were the Laurel and Hardy in the modern slapstick that was my life.
Daniel leaned against the kitchen’s threshold and folded his long arms in front of himself.
He was lanky, fair, with a head full of unruly salt-and-pepper hair, and blue eyes that were mostly always glimmering in amusement.
“You think about me when you’re in bed with your wife?
Jesus Christ, Cruz, does Valeria know that? ” he quipped.
Cruz’s scowl deepened – if that were even possible. “Why are you like this? WHY?!”
Remi and Simran snickered, whereas Daniel flashed his teeth at his partner.
“Because it’s fun, Cruz; you should try that sometime. It’ll change your whole world, I promise.”
Cruz placed his hands on his wide hips. “I have fun by scorching your ass in my imagination. There’s nothing more satisfying than that, I promise.”
Both Laurel and Hardy – I mean Daniel and Cruz – have been working at the shop since I was twelve. They’re not just crazy-talented when it comes to baking, but they also never disappoint when they decide to cook savories for everyone.
In the years I’ve known them, I’ve come to consider them as part of my family. Their wives, too, treat me with the same kinda love they do their children.
Daniel chuckled at Cruz’s retort. “Come back to the kitchen, big guy. I miss the smell of your anger mixed with dough as you constantly breathe down my neck.”
“Does your wife know this about you?” Cruz sassed. “Jesus Christ, Daniel, what must Brianna think of you?”
Daniel opened his mouth, ready to missile another one of his snarky comments at Cruz, but I slapped the counter twice to stop him. When the two of them looked at me, I jerked my head toward the kitchen, fisted my hands, and knocked the left one on top of the right in a sign to say, Work.
Cruz sighed. “Fine, fine; we’re goin’.” He then pointed at the tray. “Do try these, though. I’ve added primary flavors in them in an effort to mix and match the taste. We don’t have to make these a thing, of course, but if you do like em’, I can make more for you and Miguel.”
I nodded as I smiled, and touched my fingers to my chin before bringing them forward to say, Thank you.
Cruz gave me a soft wink. “You’re welcome, kid.
” He turned and headed back to the kitchen.
When he reached it, Daniel gave me a two-finger salute and flung an arm around Cruz’s shoulders.
The latter didn’t push him off, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I saw his posture slack a bit as if giving up against Daniel’s persistent nature.
With a shake of my head, I grabbed my phone from my purse and picked up the first cupcake, which Cruz had labelled: Vanilla + Acaí.
I opened the message app and shot a quick text to my best friend, Ashleigh.
Me: My construction guy is a total cutie :’(
Her response came in just as I finished the impossibly yummy cupcake and moved onto the next.
Banana + Acaí
Ash: And that’s a sad thing because…?
Me: Because he’s so disgustingly gorgeous and I’m an absolute macaca.
Ash: Uh, excuse you? You do NOT look like a monkey.
I chuckled and began typing a response.
Me: I do. You know, there are people out there who find monkeys sexually attractive, but for the sake of the early hour, let’s not dive into that factoid just yet.
Ash: Be honest: are you on something this morning?
Me: Snow fumes – they’ve damaged my brain. I’m addicted and can’t get enough.
Ash: I don’t know why I even try with you, seriously.
I laughed.
Ashleigh and I became friends when we were ten. She’d come to the shop with her parents every evening for flavored breads and pastries, and we just…clicked.
Because I was homeschooled, I didn’t exactly have anyone my age to be around at the time – except for Remi, I guess – so Ash and I quickly got attached to the hip.
She’d spend hours at the shop, either completing her homework, talking about the people at her school, and, as we grew up, about the hot boys she knew and had kissed.
Our sleepovers were just as colorful, if not less.
She’s the one who’d helped me score my first date and boyfriend when I was nineteen, and when things went downhill six months later, she was there to kick my ex right where the sun hates to shine.
She was the one who’d held me in her arms outside the ICU during my vovó’s final days, and she’s the one who pulled me out of the darkness after Vovó’s passing. In a way, Ash has shown me how to live life at different angles, ones that lead to just as many outcomes.
She’s never had an issue interacting with me, and as I learnt Sign over the years, so did she. Once she decided to be there for me, she didn’t ever think of leaving my side. And thank God for that, because I’d be an utter disaster without her in my life.
It isn’t always your family that makes you who you are, or strengthens your empire to make you a better person. Sometimes it’s a friend, someone who just randomly walks into your shop one evening and decides to hold your hand for as long as you’ll let her.
I sniffed and let go of a long breath, and then realized I hadn’t replied to Ash’s last message.
Me: AnyWHO. So, speaking of gorgeous… I can’t exactly call his brother that. The dude looks like a freight train with teeth. Almost freaked me out with his smile when I walked out the door.
Ash: OMG! Hahahahaha, really?
I licked my fingers after shoving the last of the second cupcake into my mouth. Christ, these were good. I had to let Cruz know, and also ask him for samples so that I could get them approved by Av? before adding them to our daily list.
Me: Yeah, really. I did wave at him, though.
Ash: Why the hell would you wave at him?!?!
Ash worked as a checkout manager at Trader Joe’s, and her schedule was just as hectic as mine, so the fact that she was indulging me with this conversation clearly showed her investment in me. I have, after all, been known to be a bad influence.
Only occasionally, of course.
Me: Because he has kind of a friendly face???
Ash: You literally JUST called him a freight train with teeth, Rina. Get your act together.
I grinned and grabbed the third cupcake.
Butterscotch + Acaí
Me: I didn’t wanna come across as rude…
Ash: So you waved at a potential axe murderer.
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, which made me giggle.
Me: He has Myles’s eyes. And hair. And face. Almost. I couldn’t ignore that :’(
Ash: Myles, huh?
I felt my neck and cheek flush at that.
Me: Yeah :’)
Ash: God, you’re smitten, aren’t you?
Me: Maybe… But it’s not like he’s into me or anything. It’s a one-sided, bound-to-end-in-snots-and-tears-if-I-let-it-affect-me-too-much kinda thing.
Ash: Then why tell me about it at all?
I wiped my fingers with the tissue Cruz had set on the tray for me.
Me: Because you’re my best friend? And also because he’ll be working at the house for weeks and I need someone to talk to about it.
Ash: Talk about how he uses his hammer to nail things, you mean?
I slapped a palm against my forehead.
Me: My eyes are burning from reading that. That pun just gave me a virtual-contact conjunctivitis.
Ash: Oh hush. We both know you want in his pants.
Me: …………
I liked to live my life by grasping onto any and every opportunity I could get.
After losing my parents, and then my vovó, I’ve realized that if you restrain yourself, that if you keep long-term goals, then you may end up not fulfilling them at all.
Piling up dreams and desires could leave you with disappointment and regret in the future, so why not do what you want to, in the moment?
Ash: Well, then what are you waiting for, babe? Grab him by the collar, pull him close, and fucking maul him. Life’s too short for those who don’t take risks. Live your extra life, girl. You’ve got my blessing and support.
She was right, wasn’t she? But sometimes, things weren’t as simple as that, because not every factor that led up to an ultimate decision was one that had a valid ground to stand on.
And when it came to Myles, I really didn’t know how fast or slow I’d have to throw my dice, if at all, to learn of the kind of pace he liked.
But I’d find out soon enough, wouldn’t I?