***COMPLETED***
Lucas Wilde is wild and carefree at heart. He has the tendency to not follow the rules or do things by the book. Which just makes Sydney loathe him even more when his new coffee shop down the street has been stealing the thunder from...
I blow through the doors of his coffee shop and my senses are blasted with the rich aromatic smells of freshly brewed coffee beans. I look around his shop and the atmosphere is very laid back and rustic.
Definitely has a masculine flair to things with the industrial pipes and exposed ceilings. The hanging lights and high top tables have a mixture of rustic wood and black metal. It's a large open space and a lot of the seating are filled with customers enjoying their coffee and an array of pastries such as scones, croissants, danishes, etc. There's also a large line at the counter and registers as people order their items to go.
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The front counter is the focal point as there are a bunch of different coffee beans on display for the customer to choose from before they are scooped up, ground, pressed, and served right on the spot. An interesting idea if you're the type of coffee connoisseur. I make my way past the long line to get a closer view of the baked goods this guy has to offer and to say I'm appalled is an understatement.
How could this man be stealing my customers? These items shouldn't even see the light of day, never mind be considered edible!
We were on complete opposite ends on the board when it comes to the importance of looks! For instance, his chocolate chip cookies displayed for purchase looked like a mountainous deformed circle, if I can even label it as a shape! And the chocolate chips were more like volcanic explosions of lava!
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And then I noticed the pastry that had apparently been stealing all my thunder! It's called a kouign-amann and is pronounced queen-a-mahn. It translates from French as kouign, meaning cake, and amann meaning butter. The kouign-amann can be described as part sticky bun and part sugared croissant, as it's layered like a croissant with buttery, flaky pastry on the inside and caramelized with sugar on the outside. However, his looked like a deformed muffin with the center rising in all different directions. I'd say any French chef would be offended to see something as hideous looking as this and give it a French name.
"Hi, what can I get you?" I heard a masculine voice singing in my ears. I bring my attention to the counter as I am now in the front of the line being waited on.
I stare at the man's face and the hairs on my arms and neck stand at the sight. His dirty blonde messy hair and day-old stubble glisten with a soft smile on his lips. And his gentle brown eyes twinkle in the sunlight that peeks through the windows. My eyes work their way down his face to his well-built chest but stop dead in their tracks at the name tag pinned to his shirt. Lucas! The name Margie said when she mentioned the owner talking about the pastries. This guy is the owner! The one I came here to have a few words with!
"What would you like?" he asked kindly again as I brought my eyes back up his face.
The anger began in my stomach again as he acted so sweet but he probably knew exactly what he was doing to my bakery!
"J'aimerais que tu quittes les affaires, espèce de merde!" I spat at him in my fluent French tongue.
He stood there blankly dumbfounded with nothing but a subtle smirk on his lips.
"Ummm, well I don't speak French but if I'm correct I think merde means shit and we don't sell that here," he responded with his still charming smile plastered on his face.
He managed to make me look and feel like an idiot even without knowing what I said. I tried keeping my head held high but had nothing left to say so I let out a huff as I turned my body and stormed out the door of his cafe.
Just before I reached the doors I thought of what to say as I turned my body, I caught a glimpse of a familiar old man sitting at a table near the door.
"I will show you the proper way to make a kouign-amann! And THIS MAN will be the judge!" I say to Lucas still staring at me from the counter while I point to Henry as he looks like a dog in trouble being caught in the coffee shop.
"I will see you at my bakery tomorrow, Henry!" I shout before I storm out the door.
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"J'aimerais que tu quittes les affaires, espèce de merde!" - translates to:
"I'd like you to go out of business, you piece of shit!"
