“Sure. And what’s this about you getting fired?”
Elara’s gut sank. “How did you know?”
Jeanine scoffed. “Everyone in the Restes makes it their business to keep up with Corinne Rousseau’s girl.”
Like hounds who finally caught her scent, the police lowered their cigarettes. One man, with a severe jawline and more than enough scars on his face to tell Elara he never backed down from a fight, cocked a brow, then whispered to his partner.
It didn’t matter if Elara was innocent or not. There were other people and bigger mistakes in her past that couldneverbe purged.
Before the police could investigate, she placed the strawberries back, shot Jeanine a strained smile, then ducked away. Beyond the humiliation, the worst part was she couldn’t defend herself with the truth. She had no idea why she’d been fired. The head baker had released her at the end of her shift and refused to answer any questions as he shoved her out the door.
No matter. She didn’t need the overpriced fruit anyway. Ingredients didn’t make a recipe; chefs did.
She followed the smell of sourdough along the river all the way to the open bay doors of the bakery. Inside the low-ceilinged kitchen, three bakers shuffled around overcrowded shelves lined with dirty bowls in a quiet dance of shaping, loading, and unloading swollen loaves and crisp baguettes. This week marked the longest she’d been away from a kitchen, and she was screaming to get back in.
“Shop’s around the front,” groused one of the bakers, a tall man in a dingy brown suit.
“I actually have an appointment.”
His head shot up, eyes narrowed as sweat dripped down his brow. “You from the bank?”
“No. I’m Elara R—”Nope. Not making that mistake again.“I’m looking for work.”
The man whipped back to his busy station, upturning bannetons of dough onto a too-heavily-floured surface. The little mounds rapidly lost their shape as he tossed them too early onto the baking tray.
“Those need a bit more work.” She moved inside and took one of the dough balls in hand. It was much too soft, but some of the structure could be saved with a bit of tucking and rolling. Quickly, she stretched the edges, flipping them to the center, then turning the whole thing over onto a clean surface. With a few quick tucks, the dough came together. “It won’t save the crumb structure entirely, but—”
“Does it look like I have the time to give a damn about crumb structure?” He snatched the dough back. “I got a line filled with hungry customers wrapped around the street, and all I have is this shit to pass off as bread.”
The other two bakers had stopped their work to watch.
Their judgment stifled the room.
Elara breathed deep, trying to find her way back to the reason she was here today. She wasn’t here to prove how much she knew about baking to this man. It didn’t matter what he thought.
“Gaetan doesn’t have room on the payroll for anyone, much less for a show-off who hasn’t got a clue about the real world.”
To hell with breathing. “Listen here, you piece of—”
“He’s right,” another, familiar voice rumbled. Elara faced Gaetan, who stood just inside the doorway to the front of house. “You’re just like your mother, an idealistic, insufferable know-it-all.”
“I’m nothing like her,” Elara retorted primly. “There’s not an optimistic bone in my body.”
Gaetan’s laugh rumbled, as comforting as summer thunder. Just like that, the tension melted away from her shoulders. She was safe.
It had been months, maybe longer, since she’d seen him this close. His eyes were shining, and his cheeks were red. He reeked of wine andsweat beneath his dirty Arts Culinaires uniform that had once been beige, and there was far more gray in his copper beard than she remembered. Personal hygiene had never been high on his list, but this? This was bad.
“Little early to hit the bottle, isn’t it?” she asked.
“And you’re too young to be so judgmental.” He leaned against the counter. “And too jobless. How’d that happen?”
“No idea.”
“Ellie…”
She tossed her hands in the air. “It’s true! They paid me for my last shift and sent me on my way.”
“And now you want back in to have a shot at being one of the Favored?”
