At the bakery, I’m a machine, cranking out batch after batch of cookies. Pouring all of my restless, insecure energy into baking.
“Uh, Kelly?” Sebastian, our head barista and my frequent early morning co-worker, sticks his head in the kitchen door. “Are we running a sale on cookies this morning?”
I dart my gaze up at him, huffing out some air to get the piece of hair that’s fallen over my eyes out of the way. “No, why?”
He fidgets in the doorway, glancing between the racks of cooling cookies in front of me and the front counter.
“Spit it out, Bast,” I say sharply.
“It’s just that you’ve filled all the trays out front and taken over three scone trays. Customers are wondering if there will be anythingotherthan cookies today.”
My head falls forward. “Shit. I forgot to put the muffins in the oven. I’m so sorry, Sebastian. Yeah, let’s run a two-for-one on cookies, and I’ll put this dough in the fridge and get straight to work on muffins.” I quickly start to scrape the dough into a container, mentally berating myself for being so distracted. Somehow, I didn’t clue in to the fact that with Mila taking a rare morning off, I was responsible for more than just the cookies. Some manager I’m turning out to be if all it takes is one awkward sort of flirt and I’m reduced to a fumbling disaster.
Mila’s arrival at the bakery was just late enough that I managed to catch up on other baking so our customers had their usual variety. But I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Care to explain why we’re suddenly running a two-for-one sale on cookies? Pretty sure I don’t remember setting that up when we mapped out promotions for the quarter.” Mila arches her brow at me, but judging by the smile she’s trying to hide, she isn’ttooupset.
“Sorry. I got a little carried away with cookie batches, and I figured a flash sale was a good way to clear out the extras. I hope that’s alright?”
I’m dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Of course it is, babe, I trust you. That’s why you’re in charge. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
I give her a wan smile in return.
“I do have one question.”
“Which is?” I ask cautiously.
“Is there a good reason for your distraction? And by good, I mean…” Mila wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively.
My hands come up to cover my flaming cheeks.
“I knew it! Oh my God, what happened? Did you make your move?” Mila’s vibrating in place. I almost hate to disappoint her.
“Nothing happened. He went on a date, it apparently sucked, he complained about it, and then I offered to help him.”
“Help him how?” Her eyes narrow at me.
It’s my turn to start fidgeting under the intensity of her scrutiny. “By…offering to…go on a practice date with him tonight.”
“Yeah, girl!” Mila holds out her fist for me to bump, like some sort of teenage skater kid. I ignore it. But one thing about Mila, she’s like a dog with a bone. She doesn’t give up, so it comes as no surprise when she picks up my hand and forces the bump she’s looking for. “Okay so what’s the plan? Where are you guys going?”
“Insignia.”
“Ooooh, the fancy new steak place in Westport? Nice choice! What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know, Mila, clothes? It’s not like it’s a real date, so why does it matter!” I throw my hands up in exasperation and turn away. But Mila just walks over and wraps her arms around my midsection, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be pushy.”
“It’s okay,” I reply quietly. “I’m nervous, Mila.”
She turns me around slowly. “Then we need to make sure you’re looking and feeling every bit as irresistible as you are.”
“What exactly does that mean?” I ask, and a look of mischief comes over her face.
“It means we’re going shopping. You’re gonna look so good, it’ll be a slap in his face when he realizes just how hot you are. You might have planned this as a practice date —” Mila rubs her hands together “— but by the end of tonight, there won’t be any doubt that you’re the woman Jensen should be with.”
Chapter eight
