and walked out, wiping her hands on her apron, the habit of a lifetime.
And for the first time since she’d limped into the front door, Sophie found herself completely alone with her thoughts. Once again they wandered back to her handsome new baker.
With his copper golden skin and eyes that matched, he could’ve been the love child of Apollo, the sun god. He wore his hair in short locks, which were an unusual sandy brown. With his skin tone the color was likely natural. El did not look like the hair-dye kind of brother.
He was tall, maybe six feet plus, and tended toward lean except in the shoulders, which were bunched with muscles visible even beneath the thin material of his shirt. Another factor that would rankle Wayne. The ex-convict was built like a bulldog, short and stocky.
At first glance, she’d thought El was younger, closer to her age. But one look in his eyes, and there she found a man who knew something of life. Top all that lusciousness off with beautiful, perfect, bubble-gum-pink lips and he was scrumptious enough to go in the counter next to any of the confectionary treats there.
She heard a light rap on the door and jumped, slightly startled to see El standing there smiling at her, as if summoned by her thoughts.
He glanced at the plate of food. “I see Mama Mae’s struck already.”
Sophie laughed. “Yeah. You’d think after a lifetime of her cooking, I’d be as big as a house.”
His eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, as he said, “No but it looks like you filled out in all the right places.”
Sophie decided to ignore the remark. They were already getting off to a less-than-professional start. She reached over and pulled up a chair. “Got a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”
“Sure.” He took a seat, leaning forward slightly. “You sure you should be here? Just getting out of the hospital and all?”
“‘Should’ is not the issue. I need to be here. We have just taken on a lot of big contracts including Morningside. We even outbid our competition—”
“Your competition?”
“Fulton Foods, out of Memphis. Heard of them?”
“Yeah, I think I have. But they’re a really big operation.” He frowned. “No offense, but are you really capable of competing with them?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Honestly—no. But we are going to give it a hell of a try. How else can we grow? The market we’re in is saturated. There are dozens of small neighborhood bakeries in this area. But Fulton has a monopoly on all the larger contracts.” She counted off on her fingers. “The schools, hospitals, municipalities. If we can just get these first few contracts fulfilled to each client’s satisfaction, we can start building some reputation equity. Does that make any sense?”
His eyes had narrowed on her face as he listened intently. “Yes, sorta like a fighter training to move into a different weight category. Light to middle, middle to heavy.”
She laughed. “Exactly! That’s a terrific analogy. And that’s where you come in.” She looked directly at him. “If we are going to be a premier bakery, we need a premier chef.”
He nodded, looking down at the floor. “I’m flattered, but I must admit that I don’t see the need. Mama Mae’s pastries are exceptional. The quality and taste could compete with anything Fulton puts out.”
Sophie glanced at the door. “My grandmother is a talented baker, but she’s not a young woman, El. She’s getting up in age, and sometimes she…sometimes she forgets things. We are really going to be under the gun in the next few months, and I don’t want that kind of pressure on her.” She reached over and laid her hand on the big recipe book. “I was hoping you could take a look at her book and learn the basics as well as some of the fancier designs she doesn’t really do on a daily basis. And we’ll incorporate those into our new menu.”
El’s eyes came up to hers in surprise. “You want me to learn her recipes?” He glanced at the door. “Is she okay with that?”
Sophie smiled. “Look, I know where you come from must be ultracompetitive, and bakers would probably kill before revealing their recipes. But my grandmother bakes and cooks because she loves it. Truth is, she’d probably give the stuff away if she could.” She shook her head. “There is not a competitive bone in her body. I only ask that you not share her recipes. My grandmother may not care one way or the other, but those recipes are the lifeblood of this bakery. Without them we would be destroyed.”
El nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
He understood, she thought. “Good. Now is there anything you would like from me?”
El stood. “No, that pretty much covers it.”
“Oh, wait!” She reached across the desk and picked up a manila folder. “I need you to fill out the contact sheet and tax forms. And your health insurance information is inside, as well.”
“You offer medical benefits?” he asked, opening the folder.
“Yes. Didn’t Tom tell you that?”
“Yes—of course. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He glanced through the pages. “It probably cost you a fortune with such a small staff.”
She shrugged. “It ain’t cheap, but I owe it to them. I owe it to you.”
Eliot just looked at her for several moments, and she had no idea what he was thinking. It wasn’t like the flirty little look he’d given her earlier. This look was more like he was trying to work something out in his head. Although she had no idea what. “Everything okay?”
He nodded and held up the folder. “I’ll read it over and bring it back tomorrow.”
“Oh wait.” Sophie reached over and tried to pick up the recipe book, but it was too heavy. “Did you want to take the recipe book with you to look over tonight?”
He stared at the book for several long seconds, just the way he’d stared at her, and finally shook his head. “No, I’ll look it over later.” He started to leave again, and paused. “Um, I may not be in tomorrow.”
She started to protest but held back. The man had just arrived in town. Of course he would need some time to get himself settled. As much as they needed his skills, it was only fair to give him some time.
“Sure, no problem,” she said. “And El, again, welcome. I know this is not the type of environment you are used to working in, but I think if you give us a chance we could win you over.” She gave him a cheeky grin.
He answered with a soft smile. “You already have.”
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