My admiration is interrupted by the sight of my favorite woman emerging from the kitchen, carrying a sheet tray loaded up with muffins and pastries to refill the dwindling supply in the display case. She balances the tray in one hand, restocking the display with her other. I can tell the moment she sees me in line because she blushes and drops a croissant. She recovers with a grin and waves me out of the line, gesturing to meet her at the pick up area on the other end.
By the time I squeeze out of line and make it down there, Olive is waiting for me with a large cup of coffee and a little box. My name is scrawled across the top and when I peek inside there are two of my favorite lemon poppyseed muffins nestled into some bakery tissue.
She had this ready for me. My chest squeezes a little because she clearly went out of her way to package these up and set them aside. She’s just so goddamn thoughtful. I want to kiss her, but she just gives me a wink and darts away.
“You okay, boss?” a voice chuckles behind me.
“Huh?” I turn and see Charlie grinning at me. How long was I standing here like a lovesick idiot?
He looks smug and a little too knowing. “Oh, nothing. I was just worried about the way you were staring longingly at that doorway.”
“Oh fuck off, Charles,” I mutter at him. He just laughs. I’m not sharing my muffins with him.