Laura stood frozen in the doorway of her workshop, her heart pounding as she watched Ambrose bite down on the piece of chocolate. The gears of her mind slowly groaned into action, and thoughts began to fill her head. At first, there was rage—why had he come into her workshop uninvited, especially seeing as the owner was not around? And to have the audacity to eat her work without asking for permission! Then, the true implications of his partaking of the spelled liquor sank in.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop him. He was taller than her and stronger from all the work he had to do in the bakery, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still tackle him and force the chocolate out of his mouth. She was ready to do just that when the young man turned his gaze on her and waved an unassuming salute.

“Ambrose,” she said, her voice sharp and urgent. “You have to spit that out.”

It was a foolish attempt, but she had to make it. He had never listened to her before, not even when they were children, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to do it then.

He chewed slowly, then swallowed, completely oblivious to the catastrophe he had just invited upon himself. “It’s not so bad that I'd have to spit it out,” he said, his voice smooth as ever. “The chocolate is exquisite, as I expected of you. And the filling, is it spiced cherry wine? I’d say it’s a more mature taste than what you usually go for, with a depth that deserves to be savored slowly.”

Laura blinked at him, stunned. He kept talking about her chocolates for a while, praising certain aspects and critiquing others, as if the spell had no effect on him. And maybe it hadn’t. There was no way to say that it would affect everyone equally. Maybe it only worked on girls, or people who already liked her in some measure, like Eleanor.

“All in all,” Ambrose went on, “I think it’s one of your greatest works so far. The texture is perfect, and the taste is remarkable, if a tad too sweet.” He paused for a moment, his eyes locking on hers. “But that’s understandable, given the sweetness of its creator.”

His voice was steady, bearing no mark of a joke, and it took Laura a moment to realize that he truly meant what he’d said. The way he looked at her told her everything she needed to know. It was the same gaze Eleanor had worn, the darkness of his dilated pupils almost swallowing the stormy grey of his eyes.

Laura made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “Oh no. No, no, no.” She covered her face with her palms, barely stifling a scream.

Ambrose gave a light laugh, and the sound of his footsteps announced him walking closer. “I keep forgetting you don’t take well to compliments,” he said, a tinge of amusement coloring his words.

Laura peered at him through her splayed fingers, remembering the signs of affection Eleanor had rained on her in the morning, and fearing a repeat. But where her friend had been so driven to touch and kiss her, Ambrose seemed much more restrained. He just stood there, wearing that moony gaze and a crooked smile that, for once, looked sincere.

“Ambrose,” Laura finally said, voice muffled by her hands, “why did you come in here?”

“You weren’t at the counter when I came to get my order, and I called out, but there was no response. It’s strange for you not to pop up the moment the bell rings, so I thought something might have happened. It wouldn’t be the first time you got into a work accident.”

Laura bristled, that matter-of-fact tone of his plucking at her already taut nerves. “So you just strolled into my workshop?”

He shrugged. “We used to play in here all the time when we were kids. I didn’t think you’d mind.” A faint flush colored his cheeks as he looked away.

She wouldn’t have minded then, but things were different now. Him bringing up their childhood as an excuse was making her blood boil, so her voice was nowhere near kind when she next spoke. “And what gave you the right to eat my chocolates without asking?”

“They were placed rather invitingly, and since one was already missing, I thought they were meant for a taste test. So I helped myself.”

Laura’s stomach churned. He had helped himself, all right, straight into a love spell. She drew a deep breath and added a few more lines to her mental checklist. There were so many things to do, and so little time to do them in.

At least Ambrose seemed more clear-headed than Eleanor. That had to count for something. Perhaps he would be even easier to get rid of.

Laura grabbed the jars and paper-wrapped packages she had prepared and thrust them into his arms. “Here. The things you asked for,” she said briskly. “You can pay me later, when I have the jelly as well.” Hopefully, she thought, she would also have an antidote ready in the meantime. “Have a nice day, then.”

But he made no move to leave. “I only just got here,” he said in a sulky tone that did not match his looks. “I even asked for an extra-long break to come see you, so don’t throw me out yet. Please?”

The sight of him pleading was so unexpected that it took Laura a moment to find her words. “Well, you can’t just stay here. I have work to do, and you’re in the way.”

Ambrose’s shoulders fell, disappointment evident in his entire being. “Just for a few minutes more? I’ll be quiet. Invisible, even. I only want to bask in your presence a little longer.” His eyes glimmered with hope, like a puppy begging for her food scraps.

“Why so?”

“Because I like you,” he responded, clear and sincere, and almost believable.

Laura groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You don’t like me,” she said, giving up on any pretense at civility. If he wouldn’t leave when she asked nicely, telling him the truth would surely put him off. “You’re under a spell. A love spell, no less. Whatever you’re feeling right now is an illusion.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Are you sure about that? Because it feels pretty real to me.”

The low voice and the unguarded smile that followed his words almost made her heart stir. She had to remind herself that it was only the potion talking, and even if it wasn’t the case, no amount of pretty smiles or passionate speeches had any right to endear this one particular man to her. Not Ambrose Waycaster, not ever.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Now stop speaking nonsense and go.”

“But I’m not,” he protested. “If whatever spell you’re talking about is indeed real, maybe it’s just pushing me to say what I’ve been feeling all along.”

Laura let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Are you hearing yourself? You, who’s spent years picking fights with me for fun! You, who never lets me win an argument because you love proving me wrong! You, like me?”

He tried to intervene, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“No,” she went on, “I know who you are, and I know where we stand. Those are not your real feelings. And even if they were, it wouldn’t change anything. It would never work between us, because you’re you, and I’m me, and we just don’t fit.” She finally stopped, out of breath after her rant.

Ambrose blinked at her, and she hoped she’d finally gotten through to him. But when he opened his mouth to speak, it was still the same foolishness spewing out.

“Many would say sugar and salt don’t fit either, but I know for a fact that your salted caramel toffees are your most popular sweets in the shop.”

Laura glared at him. Even bespelled, Ambrose seemed just as determined to hold onto his beliefs, and she was tired of trying to make him see the truth. She needed to get him out of the shop and out of her hair as soon as possible. All those corny lines were making her skin crawl.

There had to be a way to persuade him away, just as she had with Eleanor earlier. But although she had known him since childhood, the young man of the present seemed to have nothing in common with the boy she had befriended more than a decade ago. Still, she had to try.

“Ambrose?” Her tongue was reticent to sound out the words she had chosen, but she pushed through. “If you like me so much, what would you do for me?”

The answer came in an instant, the one word she was hoping for.

“Anything.”

“Well then,” she said, barely holding back her victorious grin, “would you go back to the bakery? For me?” She batted her eyelids in the way she’d seen children do when asking their parents for an extra sweet treat. It had worked for the little ones more times than not, and it might just work for her, too.

Ambrose hesitated only a second before his shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go. But only because you insisted.”

In three long strides, he was already at the door, and Laura had to run to open it for him.

He turned back as soon as he was out, one of the packages nearly slipping off the pile he was carrying. His eyes held Laura’s, and to her relief, his pupils had shrunk back to a more normal size.

His smile, however, was still dreamily besotted, and when he spoke, it was not in his usual cutting tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” And he twirled on his heel and walked off to deliver his purchases.

Laura closed the door and turned the hanging sign, ready to finally get rid of those cursed chocolates and put Ambrose Waycaster out of her mind.

Tomorrow was her day off, and she would make sure that he was not going to see her.