Bakery Stories Novels & Stories

Despite Theodore’s wants for the mansion, I got the 2 story bakery. It took us a week to move everything to the new building. The building had two floors. On the bottom, a storage room, a kitchen, a front room, and a bathroom. Upstairs, 4 bedrooms, and a bathroom. In the storage room there are shelves, tables, food bags, and barrels. In the kitchen there is an island, a sink, 3 stoves, and cooking ware. In the front there is a counter, display cases, tables, and chairs. There was a bathroom with two stalls. We put a sign for women and men on each. The bedrooms upstairs were all the same size, and had beds, wardrobes, tables, lamps, and a window. We chose our rooms based on the view outside.

I am fried up with all this drama in my life. A few hours later, Chris and Arthur are still talking to each other. I am not sure what they are talking about because I am busy watching movies. I need an idea for the new story that I am going to write. I am watching a movie related to pastry making and baking because my next story will be moving around with a baker who fell in love with her customer.

Plus the bread is too fucking delicious to just leave. Mariam’s knowing smile spreads, “Long story short is that love sells, Leonel. Sure my cakes are good, but why would celebrities come in here and order them when they can go to a fancier business or a bigger bakery? Because my bakery comes with the love story of Barry and me.” She leans forward, and for a moment I think she’s going to hold my hands, “When you married Madison, I didn’t feel like there was any story there. I’m hoping this time around there is.” Buttery bread is half melting on my tongue as I pause at her words.

“Why?” But Leo didn’t have to answer. Their wandering had taken them to a bakery, and the delicious smells inside the softly lit shop quickly distracted Andrea. “What is that yummy looking pastry?” She pointed to rounds of what looked to be puff pastry sprinkled with green nuts and drizzled with caramel sauce. Dominating the sweets section were also tiers of flaky tartlets, delicately browned triangular biscuits and fan-shaped pastel cookies. Domes of bread, ranging from family size to single serving, took up much of the rest of the shelves. Some of the bread had been shaped into fancy twists and fish shapes. “What can I get you and your friend?” The baker, a thin, short woman with a ready s