Alyssa's Point Of View
The bell above Sweet Dreams' door chimed as the last customer left, signaling the end of another busy day. I sank into one of the mismatched vintage chairs, exhaustion seeping into my bones.
But it wasn't just physical tiredness weighing me down.
No, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, all centered around one infuriatingly handsome baker with ocean-blue eyes and a proposition that was driving me crazy.
Sage Holloway. Just thinking his name made my stomach twist in a confusing mix of anger, longing, and something else I refused to name.
"Alright, spill," Raine's voice cut through my reverie. She plopped down in the chair across from me, her teal hair catching the last rays of sunlight streaming through the window. "You've been moping around all day. What gives?"
I sighed, running a hand through my copper curls. "I'm not moping," I protested weakly.
Raine snorted, the sound at odds with her ethereal appearance. Today, she was dressed in a flowing bohemian dress, layers of silver necklaces clinking as she leaned forward.
"Honey, I've known you since we were in diapers. You're definitely moping. This is about Sage's little proposal, isn't it?"
I nodded, not bothering to deny it. There was no point in trying to hide anything from Raine. She could read me like one of her tarot cards.
"I just... I don't know what to do, Raine," I admitted. "Part of me thinks it's a great idea. The collaboration could be amazing for business, and it would show everyone that there's no bad blood between us."
"But?" Raine prompted, her kohl-rimmed eyes knowing.
"But..." I hesitated, struggling to put my feelings into words. "But it's Sage. The same Sage who left me four years ago without so much as a backwards glance. How can I trust him now?"
Raine was quiet for a moment, absently twirling one of her many rings around her finger. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically serious.
"Look, Alyssa, you know I'm the last person to advocate for giving second chances to exes. But... I saw the way Sage looked at you yesterday. That wasn't the look of someone plotting to sabotage you."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Are you actually defending Sage?"
Raine held up her hands, bangles jangling. "Whoa, let's not go crazy here. I'm just saying... maybe give the idea a chance? You don't have to forgive him or be his friend. This is business, plain and simple."
I nodded slowly, mulling over her words. "Maybe you're right. I just... I can't help but feel like there's more to it, you know?"
Raine's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Oh, I know. The sexual tension between you two could power the whole town for a month."
"Raine!" I sputtered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.
She cackled, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "What? I'm just stating facts here. You can't deny there's still a spark there."
Before I could respond, the kitchen door swung open, and Mia emerged, her purple hair dusted with flour. "Hey, boss? We've got a situation with the mixer. Think you could take a look?"
I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure thing, Mia. I'll be right there."
As I stood, Raine caught my hand. "Just think about it, okay? And remember, whatever you decide, I've got your back."
I squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of affection for my quirky, fiercely loyal friend. "Thanks, Raine. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Probably make a lot of boring, sensible decisions," she quipped, winking at me.
Laughing, I made my way to the kitchen, Raine's words echoing in my mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe I could do this collaboration without letting my heart get involved. It was just business, after all. Right?
The kitchen was a mess of flour and frustrated faces when I walked in. Mia was standing by our industrial mixer, which was making an ominous grinding noise.
Her usually cheerful face was scrunched up in concentration, the cupcake tattoos on her arms seeming to frown along with her.
"What's going on?" I asked, approaching the machine cautiously.
Mia shrugged, her purple ponytail bobbing. "No idea, boss. It just started making this noise halfway through the buttercream batch for tomorrow's wedding cake."
I bit my lip, worry gnawing at my stomach. This mixer was the heart of our kitchen. If it was broken... I didn't even want to think about how much that would set us back.
"Okay, let's take a look," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. I opened the panel on the side of the mixer, peering into its inner workings. The problem was immediately obvious – a bent beater blade had gotten caught in the mechanism.
"Well, the good news is, I know what's wrong," I announced. "The bad news is, I have no idea how to fix it."
Just then, the bell above the front door chimed. I frowned, glancing at the clock. We'd been closed for over an hour now.
"I'll go see who that is," Mia offered. "You keep working on this mechanical monster."
I nodded absently, my mind already racing through possible solutions. We had a small handheld mixer, but it would take forever to make all the buttercream we needed. Maybe if we worked in shifts through the night...
"Uh, Alyssa?" Mia's voice interrupted my planning. "There's someone here to see you."
I turned, and my heart did a traitorous little flip in my chest. Because there, standing in my kitchen like he belonged there, was Sage Holloway.
He was dressed casually in jeans and a soft-looking henley that did nothing to hide his broad shoulders. His dark hair was tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it – a habit I remembered all too well.
But it was his eyes that caught me off guard. Those ocean-blue eyes that had always been able to see right through me, now filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
"Sage," I said, hating how breathless I sounded. "What are you doing here?"
He held up a brown paper bag, a sheepish smile on his face. "I, uh, I brought some test samples. For the collaboration. I know you haven't given me an answer yet, but I was hoping maybe we could... talk about it?"
I stared at him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling in my chest. Anger at his presumption, curiosity about what was in that bag, and an annoying flutter of... something at the nervous way he was looking at me.
"This really isn't a good time," I started to say, but was interrupted by a loud grinding noise from the mixer.
Sage's eyes widened. "What's wrong with your mixer?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Bent beater blade. It's jammed up the whole mechanism."
To my surprise, Sage's face lit up. "Oh, I can help with that! We had the same problem at Sugar Rush last month. Here, let me take a look."
Before I could protest, he was rolling up his sleeves and approaching the mixer. I watched, torn between irritation at his interference and grudging curiosity.
Sage had always been good with machines – it was one of the things that had made us such a good team back in the day.
As Sage worked, I couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the look of concentration on his face. It was... distracting, to say the least.
"Alyssa?" Mia's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She was looking at me with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. "You okay there, boss?"
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "I'm fine," I muttered, turning away from the sight of Sage bent over my mixer.
After a few minutes of tinkering, accompanied by some muttered curses and the occasional clang of metal, Sage straightened up.
"Okay, try it now," he said, wiping his hands on a nearby towel.
Holding my breath, I flipped the switch. The mixer whirred to life, purring like a contented cat. No grinding, no clanking, just the smooth sound of a perfectly functioning machine.