ˋ°•*⁀➷In Mijas, Spain, Carlos Martinez and Viola Lopez were childhood rivals, always at each other's throats-whether it was over grades, sports, or just who could outdo the other. Their competitive fire was unmatched, but after graduation, their pat...
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The sun streamed through the large windows of the bakery, casting a warm glow over the cozy space. Viola and Valentina were spending another busy morning in their bakery. The smell of freshly baked goods filled the air, a comforting scent that invited people in off the street.
Val was seated at the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she managed the day's orders and responded to emails. She was completely engrossed in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, Viola stood behind the counter, chatting with a regular customer, an elderly lady who always came in for her favorite lemon tarts.
As the lady thanked her and walked over to a small table near the window, the bell over the door chimed, signaling the entrance of someone new. Viola glanced up with her usual welcoming smile, ready to greet the next customer. But the smile froze on her face when she saw who it was.
Carlos Martinez.
He stood there, casually leaning against the doorframe, looking every bit the part of the confident man she remembered, his smirk unmistakable. He wore a simple white shirt and black pants, effortlessly pulling off the look that screamed attractiveness and sophistication. His brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he met her gaze.
"What are you doing here?" Viola asked, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to maintain her composure.
Carlos clicked his tongue in mock disappointment as he sauntered closer, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Now, now, Lopez. Is that any way to treat a customer? I'm here to taste the best in all of Mijas, of course."
"We're closed," Viola shot back immediately, hoping to deter him.
Valentina, still focused on her computer, glanced up in surprise at Viola's abruptness. "Um, no, we're not," earning herself a glare for betraying her that Carlos didn't miss.
Carlos looked around the bustling bakery, his eyes sweeping over the customers sitting at the tables and the trays of pastries on display. "Doesn't look closed to me," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
"We are...to you," Viola countered, though she knew her argument was flimsy at best. The corners of Carlos's mouth twitched upward, and he laughed, a rich sound that made her want to both roll her eyes and her lips twitch at the same time.
"Come on, show me around," Carlos said, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be there.
"No," Viola responded flatly, determined not to give in to whatever game he was playing.
Carlos leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging murmur that only she could hear. "What's the matter, Chiquita? Afraid I might find something worth complimenting?"
Viola narrowed her eyes at him, her competitive streak flaring up instantly. "Fine," she said sharply, turning on her heel and heading toward the kitchen. "Follow me, then."
