Alissa stopped by the pastry shop every morning for a cinnamon roll on her way to work. She liked being able to leave her apartment and walk to work, which was a little more than a mile, and stop at the shop for her sweet breakfast and coffee. The owner always greeted her with a smile, and a discount for being such a reliable regular. It was a routine she’d fallen into and been enjoying for the past three years.
When she walked in on a Thursday morning she took in a deep breath. The smell of cinnamon in the air was always a delightful way to kickstart her day. She walked up to the counter, expecting to see the owner, a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache that looked like licorice twists, but instead saw a younger man no older than thirty.
“Where’s Paul?” she asked. “Usually he’s here to great me.”
The man looked down at the cash register then back up to Alissa.
“He had to call in,” he replied, “he’s not doing so well. I’m his nephew, Nick. You must be Alissa.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Paul mentioned you,” replied Nick. “He made me promise to be here right at opening so you could get your cinnamon roll before heading to work. Luckily he had a batch prepared before leaving yesterday. The bakery I worked at in my hometown was a bit smaller than this one so I’m still trying to find my way around.” Nick looked up to the ceiling. “Cinnamon roll and a coffee with two creams two sugars, right?
“He’s taught you well. Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t think it’s anything serious. I almost think he called in on purpose to put me in a tough place my first day, you know, force me to dive into the fire and learn everything as fast as I can.”
“Bold strategy,” replied Alissa. “I’m glad it’s nothing serious.”
“He also mentioned your discount,” said Nick, “that’ll be two dollars even.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Nick. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow and every day for the foreseeable future. Unless I win the lottery, then you’ll have to track me down in Malibu.”
“I doubt my discount would be as nice in Malibu. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Friday morning Nick got out of bed at 6:00 am. His studio apartment was a little more than a walk-in closet. He stepped from his bedside into the kitchen to check the refrigerator for a potential breakfast. He pulled out a carton of eggs, a fresh tomato, and a green pepper.
As his omelette sizzled on the stove he prepared a cup of coffee. When he tried to flip his breakfast he decided on scrambled eggs instead.
“Non-stick pans, non-stick pans,” he repeated over and over as he walked to work, as if the repetition would remind him to stop at the store after work so he could update his kitchenware.
When he arrived he was relieved to see his uncle standing behind the counter, looking fit as ever.
“You recover quick,” said Nick, taking his bag off his shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fit as a fiddle,” said Paul. “How was your first day?”
“Busy. Your favorite customer was here first thing, just like you said she would be.”
“What’d she say when you asked her to dinner? Or perhaps you prefer a movie?”
“I’m not following. I got her order and she went on her way.”
Paul shook his head, a curious smirk traveling from one ear to the other.
“I thought it best not to be here when you first met,” said Paul. “I didn’t want to spoil the magical moment.”
Nick rolled his eyes.
“She’s a good match for you, nephew. A hard worker, just like yourself.”
Before Nick could reply the bell above the door rang and he turned to see Alissa walking towards the counter.
“Let me guess,” said Nick, “a muffin and a cappuccino?”
“He’s slipping already, Paul,” replied Alissa, followed by a smile. “Best to cut him loose before he makes too many mistakes.”
“Wouldn’t be his first since starting here,” said Paul.
“Start packing your bags, Nick,” she said. “It was a pleasure.”
“Hold on,” said Nick, his hands out in front of him, “this isn’t fair. You can’t both team-up on me. It’s only my second day.” He smirked as he fetched her cinnamon roll as Paul tended to her coffee. “If there’s anything I could do to make it up to you just let me know. Name it and it’s yours.”
Alissa wobbled her head side to side.
“You could treat me to dinner,” she said, grabbing a napkin from beside the cash register. She scribbled something onto it then handed it to Nick. It was her number.
“How does seven sound?” he asked.
“Not as good as eight.”
Eight it is then.”
After work Alissa returned to her apartment, keeping her bag in front of her face as she walked past the pastry shop so as not to see Nick right before their date, a bit of nerves and superstition driving her into the shadows.
When she finally made it upstairs, she lived on the fifth floor and the elevator had been broken since before she moved in, she set down her bag and rested her hands on her hips as she surveyed her options. Hanging in the closet was a dress better suited to spring than fall, and on the ground was the pair of jeans she’d worn the weekend before but hadn’t taken the time to wash all week. In the drawers of her dresser were various other options of clothes better suited to work than a night out.
She settled on the jeans and the shirt she was already wearing — a purple collared blouse.
She had texted Nick before leaving work, to make sure that eight still worked and that he was comfortable meeting outside of her building. The place they were going for dinner was just past her office, so it seemed silly to call a cab when the two could walk together.
When she walked out of her building at 7:30 Nick was standing alone, seemingly lost in the buzz of the city air. She tapped on his shoulder and he turned around, a cup of coffee in either hand.
“Figured we could both use some,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to fall asleep and faceplant into my meal.”
“Wouldn’t be so bad if you ordered mashed potatoes. So, how do you like it here so far?”
“A lot busier than what I’m used to. Back at home it was the same customers over and over, pretty much made for the same day over and over. The way Paul describes it the only thing he can rely on day after day is that you’ll show up every morning. I think that’s awfully sweet of you.”
“I mean, he does have the best pastries in the city. That is, unless you plan on taking over the ovens.”
“Ouch,” he said.
She looked over and was relieved to catch a grin on his face.
“I like it here,” he said. “I think it’ll be good for me. What about you? How long have you been living here?”
“A little over three years. I found your uncle’s shop a few months into moving here. I just stumbled in one morning for a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast and I’ve made it a habit ever since. I’d feel off if I didn’t have that bit of routine. It’s helped to make this place feel more like home. It’ll do the same for you. I just know it.”
“Looks like we’re here,” said Nick. “After you?”
Thank you for reading this week’s Friday Romance story!
If you’re interested in more of my writing I have an eBook available on Kindle as well as 3 serials on Kindle Vella.
The Centennial Courtship (Kindle)
One Town Over (Kindle Vella)
The Centennial Courtship (Kindle Vella)
The Fantasy of Love: A Romance Story Collection (Kindle Vella)