CHAPTER ONE
SAWYER
“Fuck.”
It’s fine.It’ll be fine.
Just start over.
I squeeze the edge of the counter, rocking on my heels. My back is sore and the pain is slowly crawling up my neck and into my brain, giving me a headache. I roll my shoulders and take a breath. “Not a big deal.”
There’s a little voice in the back of my head telling me I need sleep.
I don’t need sleep.
I need to get this right and not give dairy-sensitive customers stomach issues.
I put the pandan mixture in a separate bowl. Maybe I’ll make Jane and Hunter something with it later. Or maybe something for the window. The problem is that lately things aren’t really moving, and I’d hate to make a full thing of pandan custard cakes and have them go to waste.
Whatever, I’ll figure it out later.
I start again, separating the egg yolks, then I add sugar and butter to the mixture with the pandan leaves, mixing until the batter turns to a soft buttery yellow. I hear the bell in the shop and smile, knowing exactly who it is.
Without fail.
I walk out to the floor and see Mrs. Ramirez standing at the counter, bent over and inspecting the desserts I have on display. I always want my case to look full, but finding the balance between a full window and not wasting things has been hard to figure out. Good thing my sister is up from the city and will gladly take leftovers.
I watch the short elderly woman inspecting the cabinet. She looks up with a start. “Oh, you sweet boy. I didn’t see you.” She smiles, looking back at the window. “How are you today, dear?”
“I’m amazing.”Exhausted.“How are you today? Excited for Jenny?”
She beams brightly. Mrs. Ramirez is a woman in her seventies with short black hair that’s usually wrapped in a colorful scarf. Today she chose a bright pink with a floral pattern.
I can’t count on much, but I can always count on her coming every Thursday before she has lunch with her granddaughter. “Yes. I’m very excited. She’s been so busy lately. It’ll be good for her to have a bit of a break. You know how kids are.” No, I do not, and thankfully that’s not something I have to worry about. Not that I mind kids, but I’m extremely busy as it is. I couldn’t imagine also raising a family. Months ago, Mrs. Ramirez’s granddaughter gave birth to her third child. I know she’s got her hands full.
“Is there something you’re looking for?”
“Do you have any of those raspberry cheesecake brownies? I don’t see any.” She leans down peering into the nearly empty case.
I turn to the fridge I use for orders and grab the box I’d made yesterday. “Made a batch just for her.”
Her mouth drops open when I hand her the sea-green box with my bakery’s name on it—Moonlight Confections.
“You didn’t have to do that! How much?” She holds the box with a bright smile.
“A gift.” I’d had some leftover batter anyway, and since she’s my best customer, I don’t mind at all.
There are times I have a full-on mental breakdown and think about quitting. Then in the back of my brain I think, “Well, if I’m not here, where will Rosa Ramirez get her desserts from?”
I know logically she’d find somewhere else—most likely a big box store—but sometimes it’s this thought that keeps me going.
You need rest.
I ignore the little voice that vaguely sounds like my mother.
“I can’t take that.”
“Please, I insist.”
