Chapter Text
It was one of those days that you read about. The sky was bright and blue with the sun hanging obediently overhead, and not a cloud dared to pass in front of it. A stiff breeze blew through the city, but not so heavy to be a nuisance. Just light enough to blow your hair around and make the street signs flap, advertising all the local businesses to the wind.
“El Diablo” as they called him, or at least those who got close enough to read the red letters emblazoned on his back, rode down the streets of the city after dark, missing all of the beauty that the earlier day could offer him.
Unfortunately, the next day’s weather did not carry the same storybook quality, and rain clouded overhead.
Although she was a proponent of sunshine, Natalie enjoyed the rain. Not only for the renewal it brought to the earth, but also for the swell of customers it lured into the bakery. Her warm bakery was a perfect sanctuary from the rain and the smell always seemed to cut through the New York streets sharper when there was rain.
At the close of the day, Natalie turned off her oven and was walking to the door to flip the open sign over with a huff of finality. Her personal satisfaction of a day well done was cut short by a large man entering her bakery.
He shook the rain off his leather jacket and wiped his heavy books on the delicate welcome mat below his feet. At least he was polite. She heard him muttering something that sounded like Spanish as he looked around her little bakery, taking in all the pastel and lace. Fresh cut flowers sat in the windowsill and seemed to perk under his scrutiny and Natalie felt the need to hide her hands and the chipped nail polish in the pockets of her well-worn apron. Instead she smiled, and slipped back into the practiced ease of a greeting.
“Welcome to the Rose Hill Bakery! We’re delighted to have you here.”
He was, in fact, not delighted to be there.
Natalie didn’t seem to pick up on that, “Can I interest you in one of our homemade cupcakes?”
He said nothing, but approached the glass case full of sweets and Natalie scrambled to stand behind it, looking as dignified as she could. It may have been a futile effort with her messy hair and ruddy cheeks, but she was never too proud to try.
Standing silently over the case, he weighed his options.
Natalie tapped her fingers to ward off the silence. It didn’t help for long.
“Are you new to the area? Haven’t seen you in here before!” When he didn’t look up she continued, “It’s always nice to see new faces!”
“Chocolate,” he finally asserted, his voice accented and low.
“Pardon me?” Natalie choked out, about to swallow her tongue.
“You run a bakery, right? Chocolate,” and when she didn’t move, he added with a huff, “please.”
Finally understanding, she quickly grabbed the last chocolate cupcake, placed it in a plastic cupcake holder, and slid it over to the checkout.
“That’ll be $1.78, mister….” She trailed off, expecting him to give his name.
Instead he handed over the money, exact change, and a curt, “Do you make it a habit to annoy all your customers?”
Leaving Natalie in stunned silence, he grabbed his treat and turned to leave. With his back turned, she could read the bold letters that spelled out “El Diablo” on his back. She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape.
“Have a good evening, El.”
He whipped around to glare at her, and threw the door open to leave, his mouth twisting into a snarl. The light chime of the bell above her door punctuated her giggles and drowned out the noise of his motorcycle roaring away.
The smell of freshly baked cookies snaked down the streets of the city, leading back to Natalie’s bakery. She was experimenting with a new style of chocolate cookies using, of all things, coconut oil. Natalie couldn’t seem to get on Pinterest or any baking tips website without seeing 101 Ways to Bake with Coconut Oil, so she figured it was time to try. The dough tasted fine and when she peeked in the oven, she saw that the cookies were rising like they should be.
But it all came down to the taste test.
Natalie was rushing that morning, and running late. Even though she lived above the bakery, she found it easy to consistently run late. There was always so much to do and something always managed to hide itself every morning, adding on a task to her morning routine. That particular day she needed to hang up signs offering a reward for the return of her toothbrush, because surely someone had stolen it and she hadn’t misplaced it.
So instead of tasting the cookies herself, on account of the peppermint she was nursing under her tongue, she threw the still-warm chocolate cookies into a glass jar by the register, and hung a chalkboard sign around its neck, reading “free taste test!”
Her regulars greeted her happily and took a cookie, happy to taste something new that Natalie whipped up.
By the end of the first hour, the trashcan was filled with cookies with exactly one bite taken from them. A colossal flop on her part. The bottom half of the jar was still filled with the disgusting chocolate cookies that she couldn’t even give away. But her customers were happy, and she was happy to see them all.
It seemed there was nothing she could do to offend their good sensibilities, which was a small mercy on Natalie’s part, because innovative baking was not nearly as much her strength as her mother’s. She was a competent baker in regards to tried and true recipes, and they were the bread of her little bakery, and what mothers brought their children to taste. Carla had established the Rose Hill Bakery as a respectable place, and Natalie considered it an honor to continue to run it with the same gentle care her mother had.
However, the time always came for her to close. She never shooed customers out, but they always packed up their things and made their way out on time. They respected her, and she respected them.
The 8 o’clock hour came, right on time, and always as expected. It came quietly and with the patience of a well-practiced baker. Natalie was wiping down tables when she heard the bell above her door chime with the same sweet tone as it did every day. Looking up to announce that they were closed, she locked eyes with the same leather jacket who was there a couple days ago.
“El! I don’t think I need to tell you I never forget a face,” Natalie began, excitedly, “Welcome! What can I get for you?”
By the time she finished her tirade, he had already wandered up to the counter. Spotting the free cookies, he popped the lid of the jar and helped himself. Natalie realized what he was doing too late to warn him, but she saw no shame in that. She figured it would be great entertainment to watch his expression as he realized his mistake. Cramming half of the treat into his mouth, he chewed without thought and his face contorted in disgust.
“What the fuck, girl? How do you fuck up cookies?” He spat the rest of the offending cookie straight into the trash.
She laughed at his brash words, “apparently coconut oil is not as magical as everyone seems to think.”
Abandoning the wet rag on the table, she walked up to the counter and leaned against it. A healthy spread of cupcakes and cookies remained from the day. The bunch was begging to be bagged and discounted for the next day. But she was happy to leave them out a little longer for the man brooding over them currently. Though she was closed, she felt no pressure to hurry him or rush him into choosing, she was content to let him look and take his time. Even the rough and tumble guys needed a break from all that, and a delicately decorated cupcake was just the way.
Huffing, he said, “do any of your other treats have coconut oil in them?”
“Sure don’t, fortunately. It might put me out of business. Does wonders in my hair, though,” Natalie said, thoughtfully.
El scoffed, and his shoulders tensed as he carefully looked over the treats confined in the glass case, “So you put it in cookies? What kind of idiot are you?”
Natalie smacked his hand off the glass case she wiped off mere minutes ago, “be nice or I won’t sell you anything. Besides, you came back after you ate one, didn’t you?”
He glared at her, but Natalie saw right through the fake animosity when he touched his finger to the glass to point out his cupcake of choice, making sure to leave a visible smudge. Natalie went around the counter to ring up the chocolate cupcake and watched him carefully. He was obviously tall and broad, and he had sharp features to compliment his personality. Despite all the distractions, leather, and chains, Natalie noticed he had lovely skin, smooth and dark, and she wondered briefly if he used coconut oil to keep it so soft.
Natalie figured she’d better keep that thought to herself, and handed the cupcake over. He took it without a thank you and walked out.
“Goodbye, El,” Natalie said, and then tacked on a chipper, “hope to see you again soon!”
He shut the door firmly behind him, the bell’s ting a sharp contrast to his obvious attitude. He was so dramatic; Natalie was sure there was more to him. It was almost comical to see his huge frame and all the leather within the four pastel walls of her bakery, and she thought he might be surrounded by the most pink he’d seen since the birth canal.
She really did hope he would come back.