Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2 (6 page)

“Well, you might as well make yourself useful, let’s start with the two second tour,” he lets me inside. I look toward the top of the stairs where there’s a wooden door and side glance at him. “That’s Hayl’s home and straight ahead is the kitchen. Now you know the place.”

I always wondered what was on the second floor of the bakery. Without saying a word, I continue straight ahead and cross the threshold to find the kitchen. The walls are painted exactly like the bakery, green and purple stripes with a white trim in the middle. The stainless steel counters are filled with ingredients, boards, utensils and then I spot a frowning Hayley standing in the middle of the kitchen with both hands on the side of her waist staring at the ceiling as if asking for a miracle.

“Jesus, Hayley, I told you something and you’re already twisting my words and making an entire novel out of it.”

“Well, you left me hanging,” her glance moves towards Parker. “Yes or no, is he?”

“Of course not, take a breath before you die of asphyxiation.”

Her shoulders loosen, and the crease on her forehead disappears but then those pale eyes move their direction toward me.

“This isn’t noon.” She points at the cupcake shape clock on the wall. “When the little hand points at the five and the big hand is at the number twelve, it means five. Not twelve.”

“Oh, that’s what those arrows are for, I always wondered.” As I laugh, she huffs and moves to the sink where she washes her hands and after she dries them, moves to the counter where there’s a cutting board, and she begins to slice strawberries. “How can I help, Muffin girl?”

“Why are you here?” Hayley asks, the tone isn’t rude, more like curious—I think. “One person I can take, two before six is kind of hard. No offense to either one of you but my human interaction usually starts at six in the morning. Obviously since both of you are here, I can use the help. Mitchel, do you mind washing the dishes?”

I look at the sink, and it’s empty but then she points to the opposite corner and there’s an industrial double stainless-steel sink with a pile of containers, baking trays and… why did I come so early? Surprisingly after yesterday’s dinner with the Welsh family, I wanted to learn more about this quiet little mouse. She spoke a few times while her father and oldest brother discussed a few of their cases, then listened to everything Parker told me about his farm. Dinner had been all about everyone at the table, except her. I even ended up talking for a couple of hours with Parker about the restaurant business and the plans to expand the sushi restaurant throughout the entire country. Expanding, the key word, and the next step for this bakery, something Ben Welsh tried to talk about but was repeatedly shut down by the patriarch.

“You should sell bagels and artisan bread,” I casually say while waiting for the second sink to fill up with hot water. “The business will increase drastically if you have—”

“I don’t make bread, never cared to learn that part of the business,” she interrupts without glancing at me. “I have a Ph.D. in sugar.”

“She does,” Parker adds and when I look over at him, I spot him staring at her and smiling. “Really, Knight have her play with sweets and she’ll surprise you. The rest … well let’s say she should stay away from the stove. Remember when you burnt eggs because you couldn’t tell when they were done?”

“I was seven.” Hayley sighs and continues chopping.

“You were twenty when you served me that uncooked roasted chicken, let’s not forget the crispy spaghetti, or … you can’t cook worth a damn.”

“True stories,” Hayley stops, turns my way and confirms, then adding, “I’m willing to try the bread thing, but I’ll have to find a class that’ll fit into my schedule—or pay a teacher to come here and teach me during my down times.”

“I can teach you,” I offer.

“Fuck, I need to wake up, I promised to help my little sister today before I leave for Seattle,” Parker says as he finishes pouring batter into the muffin baking trays and heads to the oven.

“I don’t get the comment,” Hayley says and I agree.

“Well, usually you’re not up to learning new tricks out of your sweet zone and the two of you are behaving… civilized, which means I must be dreaming.”

“I’m taking chances, Parks,” Hayley says. “I’d rather learn a few new tricks than become Hayley Roth-Welsh, Attorney at Law; that’ll setback-kill the dream.”

“Atta girl,” Parker says thrusting his chest out with pride, then he slumps while shrugging his shoulder. “If not, you can always move to Seattle and re-open
Pieces of Heaven
2.0
. I’ll love having my little sister close by.”

Hayley scrunches her nose and begins to hum “Old McDonald” as she turns back to chopping fruit. That’s one weird chick.

*

“I thought you
said something about being busy at noon, unless you have trouble reading the clock… it’s past noon.” Hayley whispers the last words and then points at the circular clock on the wall doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on her face.

“Ha, ha,” I ignore her and hand the credit card slip and a pen to the customer in front of me as Hayley cuts some ribbon and makes a pretty bow around the box. “You should have a sticker with your address and phone number or something for the boxes.”

The customer thanks us, and waves before leaving. Finally, for the first time in two hours the store is empty.

“It’s on my list,” Hayley pulls a notebook out of the drawer. “Next to renovating the store and right after kicking you out of said bakery.”

Hayley Welsh wouldn’t be Hayley without those notebooks. She crosses the swinging doors to the kitchen and I decide to follow her. She goes through the motions of taking containers out of the refrigerator, pulling a bowl and mixing everything that she had in those containers in the bowl. That’s when I notice she also has a bottle of vinaigrette dressing next to the containers. Hayley pours some of it inside the bowl and uses tongs to mix it.

“Lunch?” I ask as she takes the dirty containers to the industrial sink and grabs a fork from one of the top shelves that has cutlery.

“Yes, want some?”

Instead of accepting her offer, my curiosity makes me reach for the bowl to see what’s inside.

“You had a salad last night; shouldn’t you be eating something with more substance?”

“It’s the easiest thing to cook,” she claims her bowl back, pinches a leaf of baby greens with her fork and puts it in her mouth.

“Dropping stuff inside a bowl isn’t cooking, you tossed a salad,” I can’t help but laugh at her constricted face. “Child, you’re funny. Now tell me, what’s today’s plan after we close the shop. Do you have time to go through your numbers; I’d like to increase your production and see if my restaurants can carry some of your decadent cupcakes.”

“The ones you should stop eating?” Per her request, I stopped at number four. Why is she complaining?

“That’s my cue to get back to work,” she points at the swinging doors and after setting her bowl on the counter, she heads to the front of the shop. Right, the damn bell. I follow behind but as I’m about to cross the doors I spot a guy with a half-smile looking at Hayley with devouring eyes. Instead of making myself visible, I watch.

“I came earlier, but you weren’t around; did you hire a new guy or is he your boyfriend, Hayley?”

“Huh?” I wish I could see her face because the little noise isn’t giving me a clue of what she’s thinking.

“A tall guy, dark hair and—”

“Ah, you’re talking about my brother.” Hayley interrupts. “What’s today’s craving?”

“A date but if you’re planning on shutting me down again, let’s go for a double chocolate cupcake.”

Hayley doesn’t respond to the date comment, she simply takes a single cupcake box, assembles it, puts on a disposable glove and takes the cupcake from the showcase before placing it inside the box. She does her signature show of wrapping it with the ribbon and hands it to him.

“Four, thirty-two is your total,” the guy hands her a bill.

“So, no date?”

“No, sorry. I’m usually sleeping by seven o’clock at night.” She hands him the change. “Hope to see you soon.”

“
Hope to see you soon
” and “
Come and visit us again
” are her customary phrases when she finishes a transaction, yet the guy beams with that phrase, waves at her and leaves. I decide to stay in the kitchen and wait for her.

“That’s a lame way to shut him down.” I say as Hayley comes back and grabs her salad. “
I go to bed at seven
.”

“I actually do.” She gives me a side-glance before taking another bite of her salad. “I go to bed at seven and wake up a little before three. Baker’s hours.”

“At what time do you have fun?”

“Uhmmm,” she takes more salad, chews, glares and those ghostly green eyes narrow. “Are you about to make fun of me?”

“No.” I put my hands up in surrender. “Why would I, my dear Strawberry Shortcake? We have a peace treaty.”

“Look, Strawberry Shortcake is a redhead that wears pink dresses with green and white stockings or maybe they’re tights. Either way, my hair isn’t auburn; obviously I’m not dressed like her, concluding the nickname makes no sense.”

“Do your homework, child, there’s a reason why I call you that. However, I should change it for something more fitting. I’ll research. Now let’s talk about this lame life you have going on. I can’t help but worry about your wellbeing. First, is going to bed at seven at night, then the lack of interaction with humans before six in the morning. I need to fix this before you turn into a bitter old woman. A few days with my charming personality should rub in.”

She scrunches her nose, sets her bowl on top of the stainless steel counter and walks to the back door. Hayley opens it and then glares back at me.

“Out, the treaty is over.”

“What did I do?” I give her my best innocent voice.

“Spending just a few hours with you, I forgot how arrogant you are. Out.”

“But we have to go through the books and set up a plan. Then go out, of course, I won’t make you go out if you’re scared of the big bad city. I thought you might enjoy a stroll around Central Park. We can do all those things the tourists do when they come to New York. We’ll call it—”

“I don’t like you,” she walks to where I’m standing and touches my chest with her tiny index finger. “The only reason I’m trying to give this deal with
Willows
and you a go is because I need to save my dream—make this bakery a successful business, on top of proving my family wrong. They all think my store is going to lose its momentum soon and I need to buy myself a bit of time while I set up a new five-year plan. That doesn’t mean I have to deal with you and your attitude that drives me crazy.”

“I’m good at planning.” I found the loophole and I’m taking advantage of it. Mitch 2, Muffet 0. “You’ve seen my sushi restaurants around the city. I’ve already opened a few in New Jersey, Brooklyn and there are four more under construction around the East Coast. Trust me, we can put this baby on the map; surely that will show your Dad and everyone that doesn’t believe in you that you know what you’re doing. Plus save your dream, assuming the bakery is that dream.”

“I like that,” she says, taking her finger away from my chest. “Keep talking.”

“You let me help you, in exchange for letting me take you out after you close the shop.”

“What’s the catch, Mr. Knight?”

“Catch?”

“Yeah, the ulterior motive. What would you gain from me going out with you?”

“I don’t know, Hayley.”

I spike my hair with both hands and then comb it because she’s right, why would I do this; what do I get in return? Other than take the edge of boredom out of my life since there’s nothing other than work in my foreseeable future. I come up with a lame reason, hoping she’ll bite.

“A lifetime supply of your delicious cupcakes.”

“One, but no more than two per week,” is she negotiating? Gullible kid. “Not that I believe you for one second, Knight, I just really want something different for my shop. However, we’re doing it slowly and in a way I’m comfortable. No more loans, no selling my soul or any of that. Got it?”

“No soul snatching, got it, Muffet.” I check the time and decide to stop playing for the day and go to work for a few hours before it’s time to get this girl out of her mouse hole. “We can find another part of you to sell.”

Best reaction ever, gasp with open mouth that should end the score of 3-0.

Hayley

“I
received the
email. Now go and change,” Mitch barks, as he closes his phone.

I just emailed him my end of the year numbers and for the next two weeks he’ll come daily to observe and analyze what we need to take the next step—or so he says. I’m weary about his recommendations-no-I fear that he’ll say this is a lost cause.

“Change?” My forehead automatically becomes a frown. “You said wear comfortable clothes, these are my comfortable clothes.”

I point at my Nirvana T-shirt, then my shorts and finally my flat thong sandals.

“Should I switch my thongs for tennis shoes?”

“I really didn’t need to know that you’re wearing a thong, unless you’re willing to show me.”