I need to keep my mind off things. I need to find inspiration. I throw on my coat and boots and call for a ride to downtown Linesworth. There's a local bakery I wanted to check out when I came here, and there’s nothing stopping me from going and doing so now. Not like I have anything better to do.
Two Sisters Bakery has a bit of renown among Washington bakery enthusiasts. They have the famed cinnamon rolls that many sweets enthusiasts have taken a pilgrimage to Linesworth for.
They also have fantastic coffee. Which, despite already having a few cups, I need more of because of the horrible quality of my anxiety-ridden sleep.
Sugar and caffeine are reliable, at least. They completely lack the ability to betray me and make me second-guess my decisions. They are pure, undeniable goods in my life.
Stepping into the bakery, I get in line. My eyes drift, as I try to mind my own business, but they focus on the mountain of a man that’s in line in front of me. He’s wearing a very familiar coat and the back of his head is covered in luscious locks.
In panic, I freeze. It’s Rainier.
He’s right here. A foot in front of me, and I gasp in surprise.
He must hear me, and is quite familiar with my gasps by now, because he turns to face me.
I freak out.
I run.
Out the door and onto the street at top speed, and since I’m no runner, it’s not long until I’m out of breath.
Even sugar and caffeine have betrayed me, by also being enjoyed by the very people I’m trying to avoid.
Just seeing him provoked such a powerful reaction in me.
My feelings for him are still so intense.
And I don’t think they ever won’t be. I’ve had to consciously keep myself from thinking about him these past twelve hours. Every time my mind drifts, I’m thinking of him again.
People are looking at me as I nervously stumble along the street, trying to catch my breath.
It’s really hard to get away from how much he means to me.
Which is why it’s all the more dangerous to accept.
I pace, not knowing what to do next.
How do I avoid something that’s as all-consuming as love is?
9
RAINIER
Sugar dashes away from me the moment I recognize her. For someone with her build, it’s quite surprising how fast she moves.
I’m tempted to give chase, but I realize if she’s still in a mood like this, trying to talk sense into her would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, I’d spent most the night with her in my mind, thinking of a way to convince her that it’ll be alright, and not really coming up with a good solution to that problem.
She’s going through a chaotic and unexpected change in her life. As much as I want to be the stable rock in her life, she needs more than that. She needs to believe that she has some semblance of control over everything, and really? I understand that completely.
I step forward in line. I’m here to pick up a dozen donuts for my mother’s card games, an order that she placed ahead of time. “Greta, still hard at work, I see.”
Greta is one of the owners of Two Sisters Bakery, one of the sisters, and married to Ansel, one of my buddies. She’s been a fixture in Linesworth as long as me. And she is very, very pregnant.
“Have to keep working, no one else is going to keep this place moving like I do. Eight months along or not, I gotta keep at it, Rainier.”
“It sounds rough. What about your sister?”
“She’s as busy as me with her kiddos. But we can’t have a bakery without any bakers, can we?”
An idea forms in my head. “Ever thought about putting up a Help Wanted sign, Greta?”
She shakes her head. “It’s the Two Sisters Bakery, not the Two Sisters and Random Employees Bakery, Rainier.”
“Don’t be harsh. You’re always busy. I catch you working here til nearly midnight sometimes. You need help, and just because the name wouldn’t be literal anymore doesn’t mean it’s not still yours. There’s that burger joint in the city, I’m sure they’ve hired way more than five guys by now.”
She laughs. “You got a point. My sister has been talking about us needing to hire help, but I guess I just liked it being a strictly family thing.”
I smile, knowing I can change her mind. “You’re going to need to hire a baker to help, though, right? You can’t be in here doing all the work right before your water breaks or for a while after that, you know.”
Greta rubs her chin. “And I’m betting you have someone to suggest to us, don’t you, Rainier?”
I nod. “I know just the girl. Hardworking and dedicated to her art.”
“Formally trained?” she asks.