Abby

I walk into my restaurant the next morning, the scent of fresh coffee and baked bread filling the air. The

morning sun casts long beams of light through the windows, but the atmosphere inside feels oddly

electric, tense yet filled with a strange and unexpected kind of exhilaration.

It’s the day after last night’s events, and I’m running on a blend of excitement and worry, my thoughts a

toss-up between optimism and that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Did I make a mistake with Anton? Was it all an elaborate con for free food and a hotel room, or perhaps

even a bizarre dream? Most importantly, what if he never actually shows?

As I head toward the kitchen, though, it quickly becomes apparent that something is off. My staff are

gathered around the kitchen door, oohing, aahing, and giggling at something going on inside.

Enter title…

going on?” I ask as I see my

of concern

brought into the kitchen? The staff are all worked

the counter and rubbing his forehead

the

A trial run to see how he fits in. Maybe he’ll stay for

press further. He knows me

not until

past Ethan, I make my way through the maze of excited staff. I

aroma of something sweet and creamy fills my

laughter echoing through the

you, if your batter has more lumps than a teenager’s face,

a poorly laid

which sounds even more delightful in

room. “Anton, you have a way

will be the best damn cheesecake you’ve ever

into the room, my eyes light up. There’s Anton, standing

watch in awe. They’re like a comedy duo, like two puzzle pieces

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