I returned to Chez Margot just before it opened the next morning, dressed in dark pants and comfortable shoes, much like what the other employees wore in the kitchen. I coiled my hair into a tight bun and chose a basic white collared shirt. Simple. Classic. Professional.
Lucas spotted me outside as he unlocked the door. He wore a similar outfit to my own, but his hair was mussed and damp. “Punctual,” he said. “I like that.”
“I hope you’ll also like this,” I said, passing a bakery box into his hands.
He stepped aside to let me in, and I inhaled the clean scent of his shampoo and bodywash as I passed.
The restaurant was still and sleepy, the space quiet and dim.
“What is this?” he asked. He carried the box to the welcome desk and lifted the lid. “The Invisible Baker,” he said, reading the business card taped inside.
“I thought about what you said and placed an order,” I lied. After thinking it over for most of the night, I’d decided maintaining my anonymity was the best course of action. I feared Robert would demand a portion of my wages if he knew the Invisible Baker LLC existed, or he’d start an online smear campaign to ruin it. Maybe both. I wouldn’t put anything past him, and we’d start mediation soon.
Plus, I didn’t want to mess up my new job offer by asking for more than the job he’d offered me. First I’d prove myself to Lucas and becomean integral part of his team. Then I’d confess that I was the Invisible Baker and see what happened. If he didn’t want me to continue baking for the display case, there was a chance I’d get enough new business from the exposure to keep the company going in my spare time.
And if I was being honest, I wasn’t ready to come out of my box just yet. The Invisible Baker was mine, and only mine, and no one could touch it. The company had been a life raft when I desperately needed one and became a beacon of hope for me. Telling anyone who didn’t already know felt like poking a needle into my favorite balloon.
“I love pain au chocolat,” he said, lifting a pastry for inspection. “For me?”
“For you,” I agreed.
He bit into the flaky dough without hesitation. His eyelids fluttered closed, dark lashes casting shadows across his cheeks. “Magnifique.”
I felt his compliment in my chest and fought the urge to thank him.
He offered the box to me, brows high.
“No, thank you.” I’d had two with my morning coffee before packing his box.
“All right.” He finished the pastry, then stowed the box beneath the counter. “To the kitchen. Right side goes in,” he said, holding the door so it couldn’t swing. “Left side is out. Always enter on the right.”
“Got it.”
“Tell me more about the Invisible Baker,” he said. We moved to the workstation where we’d prepped the soufflé. “I didn’t make it to the website last night.”
I pursed my lips, considering my words. “According to their posts, the company bakes, anonymously, for people who want to impress others with their baking but don’t actually want to bake, or don’t have the time to.”
He laughed, and the sound came from somewhere deep in his core. “Very clever. How did you get the pastries? A storefront?”
“They deliver,” I said.
I realized belatedly that I was the delivery person.
“The pain au chocolat was incredible. If their other products are of equal quality, I’d be remiss not to ask for a quote.”
I smiled and Lucas echoed my expression.
“With a little luck, we’ll be the talk of the town this fall.”
I hooked an apron over my head, unsure what he meant. “What’s happening this fall?”
“I’m making changes,” he said. “I want Chez Margot to be a casual bistro by day, and something more upscale and decadent at night. Black tie, refined menu, reservations only. The whole nine yards. First, I have to build clout so people will come.”
“Those are big plans,” I agreed. “The people will come, and it will be amazing.”
He appraised me. “Let’s hope. The dream begins with my new pastry chef. Decadence is all about the dessert.”
“Oh, jeez.” I laughed. “So, no pressure, then.”
