The Florist and the Pastry Chef

• 6 •

Sebastian

When Paisley stopped by yesterday to pick up croissants, I didn't think I'd be able to get my mind off of her until our date tomorrow.

My assumptions were wrong.

Friday is our busiest day of the week. Plenty of business executives spend their coffee breaks here. They enjoy delicate treats and steaming cups of coffee while gossiping over work-related drama. If I could write a novel, it would be about the scandals I've heard while cleaning tables. I'd be a billionaire.

All morning, I'm bustling around the bakery with Dani and Margaux. When I'm not in the kitchen baking macarons or mini carrot cakes, I'm cleaning tables or brewing a fresh batch of coffee. Mom and Dad are running errands around the city, but I don't mind. The afternoon rush is the drive I need. Obsessing over our date tomorrow isn't healthy (even if I could argue otherwise). If I keep thinking about it, I'll psych myself out.

By the time two o'clock rolls around, my shirt is soaked with sweat and I smell like an oven. Margaux and Dani are no different.

"God," Margaux says, picking dried icing from her apron. "I think that's the busiest we've ever been."

Dani takes a sip of her coffee. Her blonde hair is sticking up in different directions near her temples and her cheeks are pink. She's been in the kitchen all day, working with hot stoves and ovens. "I have to disagree, Margaux. Remember Canada Day last year?"

Margaux closes her eyes and groans. "I forgot about that one!"

I open my water bottle, chuckling as I take a long sip of ice-cold water. Canada Day last year was busy. So busy I bumped into someone, dropped a pitcher of cream, and then slipped on it. I bruised my tailbone that day.

However, Valentine's Day is the busiest. "I hate to say it," I say, wiping my mouth. "But Valentine's Day hits a home run. Remember all those men that came in looking for last-minute presents for their significant others?"

Dani snorts and opens her mouth. Closes it. Whatever she was about to say has been consumed by the shock present on her face. She's staring over my shoulder.

Frowning, I glance over my shoulder. Dane stands in the doorway, wearing a white shirt and army-green varsity jacket. He flashes a weak smile at Dani as he runs a hand through his hair. Despite his russet-coloured complexion, he looks pale. As if he's seen a ghost. His smile is forced.

I look back at Dani. She sets her coffee down and mutters something about making more macarons. I want to point out the dozens we have in the display, but I bite my lip. Dane and Dani are a tender subject at the moment. Forcing them to speak wouldn't be proper. Although Dane and I agreed to push each other, he deserves to ease into it.

Next to me, Margaux sighs. "I'll talk to her." She glances over her shoulder as she heads for the kitchen doors. "Good to see you, Dane."

Dane flashes my sister a tight smile and nods.