Romans & histoires Hope Bagel

My blood runs cold as I flash back to when he walked away like that last week, left me standing there. “Where are you going?” I call after him nervously. He doesn’t get on the bike, though. He rummages through one of the saddlebags on the side, pulling something out. He spins back around to face me with a grin, holding up a paper bag. I tilt my head, still confused as he walks back over. The paper crinkles as he opens the bag, reaching down into it and pulling out a bagel. “Hungry?” he asks.

I looked up to see Xavier sitting down. “I got us the perfect disguise,” he pushed one of the paper bags to me. I tucked the lid open with a finger and the smell of freshly made bagel filled my nostrils. I snickered. “Bagel, by 1am?” I blinked at him. “It’s what they’ve got,” he protested, taking a huge bite of his bagel and lifting his cup of coffee. I shook my head slowly, my gaze going back to the door. “But the coffee works,” he said with food in his mouth. “To stay agile.”

Gabriel asked one morning as he filled his plate with bacon and eggs. “To eat…” I said with a frown. “You don’t eat bagels” he said looking at me curiously, “Is this a pregnancy thing?” “No, I don’t, and no it’s not” “Who are you specially making bagels for?” he asked, annoyed. “Thank you Harper” one of the young guys said as I handed him freshly buttered bagels. “Why is my girlfriend making you bagels Parker? What’s wrong with the eggs and bacon she made this morning?” Gabriel asked, cautiously eying the plate of food in front of him.

There was already a line, and Liam joined the end of the queue, playing with Jovie while they awaited their turn. Jovie clung onto Liam's leg, watching in awe as the pastry chefs kneaded dough in the store window, with rows and rows of fresh, fluffy bagels laid out for display. She gulped, staring at the bagels, then exclaimed, "Dad! It smells so good! I'm going to have so many of these!" Before Liam could even reply, however, a scuffle rang out from behind them, which was followed closely behind by people's cries of outrage.

The doors slid open and Ellis stepped out, carrying two paper bags from my favorite deli on the corner of 78th. “Morning, sunshine,” he announced, way too loud for my skull. “Or should I say afternoon? Figured you’d be nursing the mother of all hangovers, so I come bearing gifts.” He lifted the bags like trophies. “Bagels, lox, extra schmear, and those disgusting burnt bacon strips you pretend are food.” Ellis had been around since we were six, same private school, same summers in the Hamptons, same knack for getting into trouble and talking our way out.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?” I just asked rather than tell him ‘Is he kidding? This gift came from a baboon. Do you know how he insulted my bamboo bag you made? ' Of course I didn't say that because he doesn’t know that. “Do you know how expensive that bag is?” he said suddenly. I was surprised. Ows? Is that so? I know the prince is rich but why is it expensive? This is not made of gold. “That's one of the bags that people are going crazy about right now. It's called an 'anti-theft' bag,” Yune added.

I sent him the text and dropped my phone. He would respond probably later in the day. I opened the bag and saw a croissant-shaped pastry I smiled smugly as I reached into the bag. That was when I realized this wasn't a croissant. It was a bagel, though shaped exactly like a croissant to fool me. There was a small tub of butter and some cream cheese. What was this abomination? An everything bagel croissant bagel hybrid? I took a picture and sent it to him. "Really?" with an eye roll emoji.

“How about some blueberry bagels for right now, and I’ll order us some Chinese.” “I’m game for that.” Heather walked in from the front of the store, having just waited on a customer. I went out front and pulled some bagels from the case. I put some cream cheese on them and brought them back as a snack for the others. We all gathered in the corner of the kitchen next to the hand washing sink for the bagels. As I was halfway through my bagel, my phone rang. I didn’t know the number, but I answered it anyway. “Hello?”

He pushes past me like the house belonged to him. “Fuck off,” I growl, planting a hand on his chest to block him, but Nico is already through, carrying a paper bag like it was the Holy Grail. The scent hit me immediately… bagels. Sweet, warm, goddamn cinnamon sugar. Something he munches on like a rabid dog. He plops himself on the couch and unwraps the bag like a spoiled kid on Christmas morning. “Hungry?” “No.” I cross my arms over my chest, muscles flexing with the kind of irritation only he can pull out of me. “Leave.”

"El Barrista Cafe? You've been to New York?" Hugo chuckled and nodded his head. He sat on Violet's chair. Violet walked over to get Agent Clara's chair and sat beside him. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked as she grabbed the sandwich out of the bag. "Oh, thank goodness you brought me a sandwich. I hate eating salads for lunch. I need energy." "I also got you a chocolate croissant from Starbucks. And no, I haven't eaten yet." Hugo placed the hot Caffè Latte in front of her.