Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,2

not supposed to be in the store anyway, I work in the bakery, but Jenny had to take her little one to the clinic this morning and I’m jumping in until she can get here.

I like working behind the scenes these days. Out of the spotlight, so to speak. I find it liberating. Love the feeling of dough in my hands and the smell of fresh yeast in my nose. I really lucked out with my job here. It’s early mornings—I start at four—but I’m also done at noon. That gives me time to put in some hours at the shelter each day.

My other love—besides baking—is the shelter animals. I don’t care what they are, dogs, cats, gerbils; I love every single one they bring in, but the dogs are my favorite. Often starved for attention, I feed off the way they can blossom with just that little bit of love. Like Blue, I’d probably have a houseful…if I had a house. My place isn’t big enough and my landlord made it clear animals aren’t welcome. That’s one of the reasons I visit the shelter every day, to get my fix of puppy love.

I ring up Blue’s order and watch as she playfully elbows Sumo again as she walks off. Then I’m left facing him.

“So what did she leave me?”

“Depends on what you’re looking for.”

One corner of his mouth tilts up, and I wonder what I said to make him raise one eyebrow, but it becomes clear the moment he opens his mouth.

“I have an insatiable craving for sweet things,” he rumbles suggestively, and I can barely stop my eyes from rolling.

Too bad, I’ve encountered one too many guys like that, and I’m a little disappointed the fantasy I’d created around him in my mind is ruined.

“Well, we still have cinnamon buns and apple turnovers, but let me look in the back if we have more Danish,” I offer in a friendly voice, before turning my back and heading for the bakery.

Ted, the baker whose shift overlaps mine, is just loading another tray with cherry Danish on the trolley.

“Perfect timing. We’re out.”

“Already?”

“Just sold the last ones.”

“Any sign of Jenny yet?” he wants to know. I have a suspicion he may be sweet on her. Understandable, she’s about his age—which is considerably younger than me—and cute and wholesome like the proverbial girl next door.

“I’m sure she’ll be in soon.”

I grab the tray off the rack and walk back out where Sumo is still waiting.

“You’re in luck,” I tell him, sliding the tray in the display. “Let me just grab a box.”

I’m painfully aware of his scrutiny as I fold together and fill him a bakery box. I try to ignore it, but unfortunately I know exactly what he’s looking at: a plain, unremarkable, middle-aged woman. Exactly the way I intended.

“Can you slice me a dark rye as well?” he asks, when I slide the box across the counter.

Again I feel his eyes on me, but when I bag the loaf and turn to the cash register, I’m relieved to see someone else is waiting for service beside him.

“See you around, Annie,” he says with a wink after he pays for his purchases.

I manage a friendly smile before turning to my next customer.

Good thing I’ve had years of pretending under my belt.

2

Sumo

“Hey, little lady.”

She stares wide-eyed at my smile, her tiny, uncoordinated hand slapping my cheek. Big eyes, pouty pink lips, and a surprising amount of dark hair standing on end.

“She likes you,” Blue comments, earning her a snort from her husband.

“She doesn’t know what she likes yet.”

She turns her head and scowls at him. “She does. She cries when she sees her pediatrician, let alone being touched by him. Look at her, she’s mesmerized.”

The little peanut in my arms squirms a bit. With a sound effect too big for such a tiny person, she fills her diaper, and I can feel the vibrations in my hand covering her little behind. I chuckle at the satisfied half-smile tugging at her rosebud mouth.

“Give her to me,” Blue says, reaching for her daughter.

“I’ve got it. You guys grab yourselves a drink and head out on the deck. Uncle Sumo will take care of Esme.”

I love kids. Always have. Luckily I get my fill of them in my line of work, although not often as small and innocent as this little one.

Handing me the diaper bag, Tony grabs his wife’s hand and pulls her into the kitchen, while I lay the baby down. I go