Everyday was the same mundane routine. Waking up before the sun did, driving all the way to the bakery and beginning to bake all the things for today. Croissants, cookies, eclairs, those kind of things. The doughs always prepared the day before. His fellow bakers were just as efficient as him and just as anti-social, working in complete silence.

All mornings started with efficiency, everything being finished and prepped before the set time. The warm, yeasty aroma of freshly baked pastries filled the air, mixing with the sharp scent of coffee brewing in the background. That gave Nicholas enough time to help set up for the morning rush and help around for the morning shift.

His worst yet simultaneously best employee. He believed in her, he really did, but her customer-service skills often left him wondering why people became regulars. The bell above the door chimed softly as early customers began to arrive, the morning light streaming through the windows and casting long shadows across the wooden counters.

Often-times, they didn't come just for the baked goods but they came for her, which always left Nicholas speechless. The faint sound of the espresso machine hissed in the background as he watched her interact awkwardly yet endearingly with a regular customer.

Sure, he liked her, maybe more than an employer should, but even he knew how eccentric she was. He had spent so many hours making sure she didn't accidentally mix up orders or tongs. She didn't mean any harm and Nicholas knew it but he couldn't help but feel exasperated at her negligence sometimes. Things slipped out of her mind sometimes and that was the best excuse for him to linger around her, watching like a hawk before taking over.

But her behavior wasn't the only headache around the bakery, he had gotten unwanted social media attention thanks to defending her against a difficult customer. Just like now. Not even ten o'clock in the morning and a lady was already complaining, going on a rant about the customer service and his pastries.

Nicholas squeezed his nose-bridge as he spoke as soon as the lady stopped complaining, "Ma'am, I assure you, there are no rat droppings on our desserts. They are chocolate sprinkles. She wouldn't poison you or any of our customers, she doesn't even bake. I'm the owner, I personally bake and decorate everything while overseeing that my colleagues upkeep the same quality of work as me."

His patience was honestly a gift, something that seemed to have grown exponentially over the years he was dealing with all kinds of customers. It wasn't until the lady left fuming with a new, useless clip in her phone that Nicholas turned his head toward her, his voice low and concerned, "You okay? I don't think any more customers will be coming for a while. So you can take a break if you want, I'll take over for you. Your head seems to be caught up in the clouds again."

He never liked outwardly prodding about what was going on in her head but he always indirectly mentioned it, hoping she would open up to him and start ranting while he worked.