The Werewolf Baker

chapter one

First Chapter: Worst First

The constant buzzing of the world’s most annoying alarm let me know it was time to start on this new journey I’d found myself facing. I definitely was not use to being up so early, every ounce of myself, hated me for the early morning wake up. As I stood in the shower waiting for the water to pour down I found another flaw in the apartment. “Ahhhhhh!” no hot water. I decided to skip the shower today; at least I was wide awake now. I decided it was best to move on to my teeth and makeup. As I was brushing my teeth I was reminded by how handsome that guy was. I wondered would he be on the same shift as me. If so, maybe I could flirt a little while we worked. I wasn’t in any sort of relationship because my now ex decided that since I didn’t graduate and he did that I would be hold him back. Well, he didn’t say those exact words but I read between the lines. So I little flirt here and there wouldn’t be so bad. “I smell summer love” I giggled as I thought about it. I glanced at the clock, “Oh Shit!” it was 4:45. No makeup today as I quickly got dressed and crashed out the door. “Way to go Aly, first day and you’re going to be late.” I scolded myself.

As I pulled up to the bakery I noticed a familiar figure standing and waiting. It was the guy that was closing up. How lucky was I to work with someone I knew on the first day, well someone I kind of knew. Either way it was nice to see a familiar face. I parked and walked up to where he was standing and from a far it looked as if he was pissed. “Hey, you’re the…” “You’re late” he cut me off; he was definitely not a happy camper. He cut his eyes at me as he hastily open the doors. I looked down at my phone and it read ‘5:01’ I was literally a minute late, what was his problem? You would have thought I was an hour late with the death glare he shot me after opening the door ushering me in. “um, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep to well and…” once again my sentence was abruptly cut off. “I am Torrey Lunar…” wow, this guy was rude I thought as I finally whipped the stupid off my face to listen to what he had to say “I am the owner of this bakery” again my mouth dropped. He looked just as young as me and he owned this place? I felt a pit in the bottom of my stomach that feeling of utter failure crept back. He carried on with his deep husky and still somewhat dry tone as he told me all of the things he expected of me. It was still pretty early for me so I just mostly nodded in compliance, not really being sure if he notice my lack of attention but he suddenly stopped in mid sentence and walked away but not before telling me to follow. As he showed me around the bakery and how to prep some of the desserts it became apparent to me that my personality is probably not a priority as he didn’t really look at me or really engaged unless it was to teach me something about the task at hand. I worked hard to ensure each customer’s order came out perfectly seeing that Mr. Torrey, as he instructed me to call him, was a bit of a perfectionist to say the least, all decorations had to be perfect. Every chocolate chip melted, every sprinkle placed carefully. In a way it felt like I was in a boot camp for all things sugary sweet. But I suppose it wasn’t all bad, I did get to see a smile appear every now and then when Mr. Torrey demonstrated the “proper techniques” I needed to make the “perfect dessert”.  His pearly whites were so perfect. I couldn’t help but notice how pointy his canines appeared to be. I chuckled to myself, he owned a bakery yet his teeth were perfect. I would have had all kinds of cavities with all the sugary goodness around me. I was in my thoughts not noticing that Mr. Torrey was now starring at me. When I finally looked up my cheeks felt a bit warm, he must have heard me chuckling to myself. A raised eyebrow insisted that he wanted in on what must have been so funny, but I just turned back to my work. If he knew that I was ogling his perfect smile I have the feeling he wouldn’t think it was as funny as I did.

It wasn’t long before 7am veered its head and it was time to open. I was sure another coworker would have been here by now but Mr. Torrey didn’t seem like he was expecting one. With furrowed brows I worked up the nerve to ask him about it as he walked to open the doors. “Um….Mr. Torrey?” he paused from the task he was currently occupied with to slightly turn to me as to acknowledge me, “Where are the other employees?” he let out a small chuckle that combined with a sigh “We are the employees” and with that he turn back to welcome the first eager customer. I was confused, he couldn’t have possibly manned this whole bakery himself before I came, could he? As the day proceeded I definitely was convinced that there was no way he was doing this alone. We were swamped majority of the day. My head was swimming from all the orders and people I had to interact with. Mr. Torrey on the other hand seemed almost robotic with the grace he possessed. Those smiles that he displayed earlier were replaced with plastered ones that he fed the customers. I could tell he really loved doing what he did even if he barely showed it. After all Crescent Bakery was the talk of the town, even if it only had a populace a little over a grand. Many rave reviews and lines wrapped around the building, proved him to be quite a successful business owner even at his young age. I remember hearing a customer praising him for having his life so well put together while only being 25. Apparently he arrived here a little over two years ago; I was still away at college. It’s obvious he didn’t grow up around here because I know without 2nd thought I would have recalled someone like him…especially since he is only two years older than myself, and yet still so accomplished already. It kind of made me feel even lower being two years younger than him and not even knowing where I’ll be in the next couple of months not to even fathom two years from now. Yet, all the praises and accolades didn’t appear to affect him much as he still was quite reserved. All his responses were polite, yet still seemingly distant. He would briefly flash that dazzling smile to make the customers feel welcomed yet hone it in as to not imply anything other than business.  Come to think of it I never saw him show any kind of interest in any of the many women who practically threw themselves at him and this is to be understood as Mr. Torrey was gorgeous. Yet, it was if he was totally oblivious to his own allure. His icy blue eyes contrasted his medium length chocolate brown hair well. And the way it framed his face showcased his chiseled cheekbones perfectly. Even though I didn’t see it much, his smile tied it all together well. He was the perfect specimen, appearance wise. His personality on the other hand seemed very calculated and withdrawn. Many would just think of him as snobbish but there was just something in his eyes that showed a hint of sadness. I shook my head trying to snap out of the daze I must have been in analyzing him from afar.

What was it about him that made me what to know him more? As impossible as that task seemed I managed to work up the nerve to speak to him on our down time when the bakery wasn’t as busy. “That was intense!” I finally manage to spew out before even thinking about it, I must sound like I’m whining to him. His swift shrug motion accompanied by monotonous “yes, I suppose” made me believe I wasn’t doing a good job of impressing him. So I attempted to switch gears. “So, what made you open a bakery?” Again he shrugged and answered in a dull monotone. “It’s the only thing I do right, baking…” he trailed off a bit seeming to not want to engage much more. I become a little offended at this point. We are the only people working here and yet he refuses to even get to know me at all. I could be some crazy pyromaniac for all he knew. Still feeling a bit frustrated at his lack of enthusiasm I once again spoke without thinking. “So why doesn’t anyone want to work here with you?”I chuckled a bit “Did you scare them all away?” Oh my gosh, did I really just say that. I sounded like a little bully. He suddenly stopped the light prep work he was doing. That got his attention I thought with a bit of a lump forming in my throat. His expression alone made me wish I hadn’t asked that question, at least not in that way. A wicked smile crept on his face but there was nothing pleasant about it. His eyes, that now seemed considerably darker, fixed in a glare focused on my now somewhat nervous demeanor. “You think this is an easy job? You think I chose to be alone?” a hint of anger now rung in his voice. It was the first time I’ve heard his tone elevate. “You really shouldn’t ask questions you are not prepared to receive the answers for” His husky voice coming out more as a growl than words.  “S-sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I was just wondering---” I tried to say but the loud crash of his hand on the counter made the words dry up in my mouth “You know nothing about me! You are nothing to me! You’re just some stupid airheaded assistant that can’t get anything right!” the words he spoke burned into my brain as they resounded over and over again in constant replay. I felt the tears weld up behind my sockets, but I deserved it, I was so dumb. I had a knack for saying the wrong things at the wrong time; a trait I inadvertently inherited from my father. I hung my head for a moment as silence quickly engulfed the room. “I’m so s-sorry; it was only a joke…” I manage to choke out. As I looked up again his eyes lighten back to their original icy blue color and he had a look of disgust painted on his face. His head was turn slightly as if to elude my glaze.  A shallow breath slipped pass his tightly clinched mouth and jaw as if he were about to speak. Instead he abruptly turned and walked into the back where all the ovens and other appliances dwelled. I am such an idiot I whimpered in my head as I leaned against a nearby wall. ‘Great job Aly, now your boss hates you!’ I scolded myself quietly. There was no way I wanted to finish the rest of my day. I wrote a short note excusing myself, not that it mattered. I was more than confident I was fired anyway. The bakery closed early on Fridays to fill any orders for the weekend, so it wouldn’t be too bad without me…then again I was just “some stupid airheaded assistant that can’t get anything right”. The pit in my stomach nearly tripled in size reliving his utter rage. I could hear it perfectly as if he was still staying those things to me. Refusing to fight back the tears I burst through the doors running to my car. I was shaking now, my emotions were seeping. I finally got the stupid door unlocked and sat a min to compose myself before heading home. There I was again, failing. I guess being really hard on myself was another trait I got from dear old dad. But it was true I was a failure at being a failure.