Purple and white were smeared on the floor with not a single macaron intact. Piper blinked back tears.
“Well, this is a poor start,” Bea said.
Piper didn’t look up., not trusting that a flood wouldn’t pour from her eyes. Another set of steps came into the kitchen.
“Oh dear,” Harold said, “That’s a shame, but you have one left. We’ll still taste it.”
The softness in Harold’s voice was the only thing that kept Piper from running out of the room. She wiped her eyes. Not daring to speak, she nodded and cut the last macaron which held her future. She handed each owner a piece. Harold ate his first.
“Lavender and Honey. An interesting choice.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his chin.
“You managed to achieve a delicate balance in the flavors. I’m impressed.”
He glanced at Bea and nudged her. She placed the macaron in her mouth like a child being forced to eat their vegetables.
“I’m surprised. But you’re too messy, not to mention clumsy. I -”
A popping sound from the oven interrupted Bea. Sparks and black smoke from all around it. I turned the oven off; I know I did. Piper ran to the back wall and grabbed the fire extinguisher just in time for the smoke alarm to scream.
“What have you done?!” Bea shouted, ripping the fire extinguisher from Piper’s hands.
“Calm down, Bea,” Harold said, opening the oven door. He coughed and waved away the smoke. “It’s probably just a busted part, not even a fire.”
Bea slammed the fire extinguisher on the counter. “I knew you were bad news.”
Piper flinched. “The oven is off.” She tucked her hair behind her ears.
“She’s right,” Harold said, pointing at the knob. “Can’t blame this on Miss Barlow.”
Bea examined the kitchen, spotting every speck of mess Piper left in her wake. Her lips scrunched into a tight frown. “I’ve heard about you. All the bakeries are talking about this cursed redhead they’ve interviewed who has ruined their kitchens. If it weren’t for my husband, I would have never let you in here.”
“Now, now, that was an old oven, and there’s no proof Ms.Barlow did anything,” Harold said, sliding his arm around Bea’s shoulder, pulling her close to him. “How could she break an oven that wasn’t on?”
“And how to explain everywhere else?” Bea scoffed. “It’s a coincidence that every time she interviews somewhere, something is broken or a disaster is left behind? You’re bad luck.”
Piper’s throat burned. “But they were good. You said so. I can work on everything else.”
Bea’s nose scrunched as she crossed her arms. “It doesn’t matter how good it is, does it, Harold?”
“No, I’m afraid it doesn’t.” Harold sighed. “I would love to hire you, Miss. Barlow, but even without the broken oven and plate, the mess is too much. You have great potential, but you still have some growing to do.”
Tears choked Piper. The politeness on Harold’s face didn’t reach his eyes; it couldn’t replace the disappointment. Piper shook their hands, thanking them for giving her the opportunity. The words were scripted, so practiced that she almost missed the crack in her voice. Sunlight touched Piper’s skin as she stepped out of the shop. Early enough that the sidewalk wasn’t busy, but even a single tear would have admitted defeat. She cleared her throat, took a step forward, and stumbled.
Her heel snapped like a shot from a gun. Piper caught herself on the brick wall and pulled off her shoes, fingers clutching the statin finish. They were barely a year old and a gift from Elle. Hot steams fell from her cheeks.
A voice came from her shoulder, small but concerned. “Are you ok?”
Baazo blinked at her, his ordinarily whiplike tail hung as high as Piper’s mood.
“I’m fine. It’s not the first time it’s happened. Something has gone wrong at every interview.” Piper said, wiping her eyes. She rubbed the top of his head with her finger – warm like a clay bowl freshly pulled from a kiln.
“I could help with that.”
Piper jumped; shock took her breath. This voice trailed along her skin, caressing her, pulling her towards a pleasurable mistake. Jaala stood close enough that the scent of him filled her nose, tempting her more than his voice. Was he standing there before? Was he waiting for her? She lingered on those fiery orange-yellow eyes before she squared her shoulders.
“I already told you no.”
A smirk grew into a smile, and for some reason, Piper thought she should be insulted.
“You told me no without making an informed decision,” Jaala said.
“I was informed enough.”
They stood there for a moment, in a competitive stare that Piper internally prepared to hold until the end of time if need be. But then, he leaned into her. “I can sweeten the pot if that’s what you need. I’ll throw in a night with me, no, make that a weekend. A full, uninterrupted weekend, along with helping you with whatever your mystery problem is.”
Piper raised an eyebrow. “A weekend for my eternal soul?”
“I’ll make it worth it. I have before. You can even have a taste right now. A small taste.”
The lines of a drug dealer giving someone a free sample.
“Humility isn’t a strength of yours, is it?”
That winning smile didn’t falter. It made it harder to say no -
“You have looked at me, right? I know you have,” Jaala said. “Humility even wants me.”
And then he spoke. Piper rolled her eyes. “I don’t need anything from you. You should take a lesson from Baazo, he’s far more likable than you.”
She stepped around him, while Baazo leaped onto Jaala’s shoulder. Curiosity took her over, and she glanced back. Jaala’s eyes didn’t meet hers. They were lower.
He was definitely looking at her butt.
Comments (16)
See all