"A deep feeling of affection and sexual attachment."
That's all Mina has - words stolen from a dictionary. How will she earn an apprenticeship at Luckman Inc. if she can't write an essay on what true love is? It has been a week, and she has yet to c...
Her mother was on her heels today. When she last saw her it was to stay at the Lindell home for work. As meddling mothers do, she wanted every detail about everything. Mina complied and told her a summary of last night's events and strategically left out the parts that led onto her chatting up Emrie's brother. She knew her mother was known for asking as many questions as possible until she reached the pit of the situation. Mina did, however, slip in casually how she would be using the bakery on Sunday to practice a new recipe inspired by Emrie also intentionally skipped over the person who would join Sunday's plans. It was a surprise she didn't get a rant about staying late when she should be at home relaxing or coming over for dinner "porque estas mas flaca que ayer." (translation: because you're skinnier than yesterday)
Yesterday, Mina told Jean Noel to come to the bakery for a taste test. A new recipe she was mastering bated him into being there after closing hours at around seven to seven-thirty. She found that food enticed his decisions, much like other men. She also gave him her phone number just to erasure he considered the invitation and knew how to contact her if he accepted it. She received it by the end of the night.
"Just before giving you this number I would like to say, this is not because I want to become a little test doll for your cooking skill set."
Mina nodded vigorously before a smirk shined on her face, "So you do recognize my grand cooking skills." She wasn't certain what it was she was doing by befriending Jean Noel, but what she did realize was that he wasn't so tough to get along with after a few nudges here and there.
Prior to that the conversation they were having enthralled her more about his life than ever before. It started with the stain glass painted peacock chandelier that had just been auctioned off to a man for a thousand dollars.
He's a painter, she learned. "It's fine, but even I could paint a simple peacock for decoration."
"Oh really? Are you a painter?" She teased offhandedly.
His response came straight away and filled with confidence. "Yes, I am, actually. I prefer to paint humans though."
"Oh," Mina's brows shot up in realization as she had guessed right. She didn't want to judge anyone based on old stereotypes but this one turned out to be factual. "That must be fun, any portraits?"
He looked at her questioning gaze and inspected her own as if already have been thought of her portrait before. "Face portraits I make every once in a while."
"Are you one of those artists that go off into a fit when you can't get it done 'picture perfect'?" The phrase brought a frown upon her as she commented using her hands for emphasis. "Faces aren't meant to be perfect."
He smiled a crooked smile at her, "Something like that, but I'd have to take a picture first."
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On Sunday evening, the temperature was a lovely wispy low of sixty-eight degrees in fahrenheit. A great change from the blazing sun rays during the daytime. Mina had closed the bakery and hung the sign as indicated. A plate of cookies was cooling by her phone on the counter. She had just finished washing a rag used to wipe down tables when she heard a ping from her phone. It was a text from Jean Noel notifying her of his arrival. She looked over the figure in front of the door with a helmet on his head. He lifted his hand up and showed his phone to her and signaled with his index finger.
