The next morning I found a key slipped under my door and I put it in my bag and left for work. I had heard Jonathan leave earlier in the morning so he couldn't check my cuts this morning. I left my apartment and got on the train to head to work. I didn't like the public transportation, but I had no choice, I loathed driving, especially in Gotham, a lot of crazy drivers out there. I finally arrived at my bakery and went into the back and put on my chef's jacket and went into the front and opened it up.
"Hey Katrina," said Rachel Dawes as she walked in. She usually got breakfast here since it was on her way to work.
"The usual?" I asked as I rolled the sleeves of my jacket up.
"Actually I want a chocolate croissant this morning," she said.
"Adding chocolate to your breakfast, eh?" I asked getting the croissant and putting it in the oven to heat up.
"I'm just having a good morning, which I'm sure is going to go when I get into work, so I'm enjoying it while I can," she said.
"Having trouble with Carmine Falcone's thugs still?" I asked getting the croissant and putting it in a bag.
"Yes," she said then gasped when I turned to face her, "care to explain?" she said while pointing at my face.
"Oh, I got mugged on the way home. But I'm fine, I saw a doctor, nothing serious, no infection," I said taking her money and handing her the change and her food.
"Do you know who it was?" she asked.
"No, now go, or you'll be late," I said and gave her a push towards the door. My workers started coming in and took over the front. I went in back and started working on the new seasonal pastries. Fall always produced the best ingredients, in my opinion. I always make a pumpkin mousse, apple tarts, and a bunch of cookies. This year I wanted to do something new to a classic. I decided on apple pie, how will I change it, though?
I couldn't think of an idea so I just worked in other baked goods to stalk up the bakery until my lunch brake. I always eat at the small caf a block away. I joined the mess of people in business suits walking on the sidewalks. I really did not fit in, cause here I am walking down the street in a black chef's jacket covered in powdered sugar. Oh well, I liked not fitting in.
I ordered my pomegranate Italian soda and a garden salad and took a seat outside. I like people watching. I have this game where I like to guess what people are afraid of. I nailed my friends right on so I made it a small hobby of mine to do to pass time. Some were really easy, like the big business men walking by in a suit and talking loudly on their cell phones, probably had nomophobia- fear of being out of mobile phone contact. Yes that is a real fear I looked it up, pathetic huh?
I finished up my lunch and headed back to the bakery. It was slightly busy inside, not terribly, it never really is. We just get requested for a lot a parties, that's how we stay in business. I walked to the back and pulled out some cookie dough.
"Hey, Katrina, your landlord called while you were out," said Cathy, the girl in charged of the register. I nodded and picked up the phone and called the office of my apartment complex.
"Hello, Mrs. Jackson," I said into the phone.
"Ms. Tassel I've been calling you all morning, did you turn your phone off?" she asked in a huff.
"Oh no, my mobile is broken," I said trying not the upset the woman more.
"Anyway, what was a locksmith doing at your apartment? You didn't loose your key did you?"
"No, it was stolen."
"Who would steal keys?"
"Someone who wanted to brake in and steal more valuables from me."
"Then why get another set of keys made, why not get the lock changed so they can't brake in."
"It was late last night Mrs. Jackson, but I assure you I will buy one on my way home and replace it tonight."
"Don t make too much noise. I assured the gentleman next to you that there would be limited noise."
"Yes, Mrs. Jackson, I have to get back to work so I can get you that rent."
"Very well." And with that she hung up. I sighed and leaned on the wall. Mrs. Jackson was a touchy landlord. She has pyrophobia so she is nervous when people she doesn't know comes into her apartment because in this city she doesn't know who she can trust. She gets twitchy if they are smoking, it's fun to watch.
That's when I came up with my idea of what to do with my new and improved apple pie. I got to work and continued late into the night. When I looked at the clock it said eight. I cursed and quickly put the pie in a box, grabbed my bag and locked up the bakery before heading to the grocery store and then to a home d cor place. I got food for dinner and a new lock. I arrived back to my apartment and struggled to dig in my backpack and get my new key out.
"Need some help?" said a man's voice from behind me. I turned and saw Jonathan Crane.