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“I’ll just take care of this customer, and then I’ll make your coffee. If you want to take a seat…” She gestured at the tables clustered in the corner of the shop.
Cetus did as he was bid, and he was glad he did, because the customer behind him was something else. Round in all the right places, with her hair slicked back into a no-nonsense bun that only accentuated the curve of her throat. He’d never wanted to wrap his lips around anything or anyone more in his life. Like he was a vampire, not a shifter. Cetus shook himself. He couldn’t be lusting after some stranger. She was a Human – they both were.
“I have your order right here, Lamia,” the pastrychef said, piling boxes onto the counter. “If you give me a little more warning, I can send it via courier next time, so you don’t have to come and pick everything up. I’d help you carry it to the Arena myself, but I’m alone in the shop today, so I can’t leave. Couldn’t you have gotten some of the fighters to give you a hand? Surely those big, burly types wouldn’t mind an extra workout.”
Lamia shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust any of those with food this good – they’d eat it all before they got off the aircar. They might train hard, but those guys eat everything. You should see the catering budget for the Arena, especially on dragon nights. The upcoming Saturnalia is the biggest yet.”
“Are you still looking for someone to do the desserts for that?” the pastrychef asked.
“Why, have you changed your mind?”
The pastrychef laughed. “Stars, no. I’m busy enough as it is. Where would I even get the ingredients to make a thousand cakes? No, thank you. Small orders like a hundred pies I can do in my sleep, but cake decorating was never my thing. Let me know if you find anyone who can do good cakes, though. Claw’s birthday’s coming up, and it’d be cool to surprise him.”
Lamia gave her a jaunty little salute. “Will do. Though at this rate, I might have to do them myself with a food synthesiser. I suppose if they look pretty enough, the Boss won’t mind.” She started loading the boxes onto a hover trolley. Once they were all loaded, she lifted the lid on the topmost box. “Do these taste as good as they look?”
The pastrychef grinned. “Of course. Ooh, I had some pastry and filling left over, so I made a few extra and popped them in the warmer. If you’d like to try one…”
Whatever it was, they both certainly enjoyed them. They smelled divine.
But Cetus refused to sate his curiosity and ask what they were. He might be beaten, but drooling over his conqueror’s cooking was more than he could take.
Finally, the lovely Lamia left, and the pastrychef turned her attention to him.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll make your coffee right now. While you’re waiting…would you like the last mornay pie?” She plated up the fragrant little pie, its crust gleaming gold. “We got the salmon fresh from Fish Supply yesterday, and they were bigger than I expected, so I ended up making an extra batch of pastry so I could use up all the filling. All our other savoury pies use vat grown beef or chicken, but these are the first ones with real animal protein. I was thinking of maybe trying them with lobster or shrimp, too.”
Cetus gave in, and bit through the pastry. And almost moaned.
“Are you all right?” She looked concerned.
Cetus swallowed. “Fine, fine. It’s a good pie.”
She beamed. “My pies used to win prizes at the Royal Show back home, every year. The success of a small town bakery was always in its pies, Mum said. I never expected them to be as popular all the way out here, but Claw’s drinking buddies with the Arena manager, so when he asked us to do a catering order on short notice, that’s all I could think of.” She set a cup on the counter. “Here’s your coffee, by the way. Did you want the croissant to eat here, or to go?”
“To go,” he said automatically. Hearing about this bakery’s success wasn’t doing his ego any good. Not that he’d ever make pies. Pastry wasn’t his thing. Well, making it wasn’t. Eating it, however… “Did you say you have some extra pies left over?”
“They’re in the cool room. I could do you a take home pack, if you like. I’ll put in a note with cooking times, too, for when you want to heat them up. The kitchens here in the Colony are a little different to the ones back on Earth. Temperatures and air pressure and atmosphere and even the lower gravity. Oh, and here’s the cookie to go with your coffee. I almost forgot. It’s a coconut macaroon today.”
Pies and cookies and croissants and coffee…no wonder the Bear Claw Bakery was doing so well, with this new pastrychef. Yet he didn’t sell any of those things, and she didn’t sell cakes. It was almost like they weren’t in competition at all. Almost without thinking, he popped the macaroon in his mouth. Stars, it was perfect. “Can I get some more of these to take home, too?”
Chapter Four
When the coffee and croissant were gone, and most of the macaroons, too, Cetus had a plan. It was crazy, but he thought it just might work. So he called Orel, and asked him to come over, preferably with more of that coconut rum, in case Orel told him his plan could never work.
Orel came, carrying a bottle of rum, telling Cetus, “Nihal said no more samples for you. You have to pay for this one. But she also said you could have it at the wholesale price if I brought home a chocolate cake for her. So, have you got anything I can take home?”
“Sure, I’ll box one up now.”
When the cake was carefully packed up, Cetus pulled out two glasses and began to tell Orel about his visit to the bakery that morning.
Orel, to his credit, just listened and occasionally nodded.
Finally, Cetus finished with, “So, I’ve decided I need a business partner. It’s worked for you and for the Bear Claw Bakery. How do I go about finding one?”
Orel burst out laughing. “Dude, are you listening to yourself? You don’t need a business partner. The Arena is crying out for what only you can provide. A thousand cakes for the Saturnalia Battle Royale? You’ve got the shop, the ingredients, the time, the experience…and it’s not like you’re snowed under with other work. What you need to do is go in there with some cakes and tell them what you can do for them and they will just eat you up.”
Cetus shook his head. “Haven’t you been listening? I need a business partner who can do that. I just want to do the cooking and decorating. I’m useless at selling myself.”
Orel burst out laughing. “My dude, all you need to do is walk in with a box with one of your chocolate cakes in it, open the box, and when they all fall over themselves for a piece of it, you tell them you can cater their Saturnalia for however many credits it’ll cost them. Your cake is like Nihal’s rum – one taste, and they’ll be hooked. You just need to give them that taste.”
