The air was thick with dust and the fairy castle cactus sagged and Rosella couldn't concentrate on the excited young man in front of her. He – George? – was talking about handprints and his experiences in university basketball. Stifling a yawn, she reached for her cup, only to grasp at air. The setting sun's yellow rays cut weakly into the bakery and Rosella had to blink back dusty tears.
Randel had announced last night during the family dinner time that the bakery would be hiring new workers, as either bakers or cashier managers. Sage and Lavender were excited but Rosella was annoyed that he didn't discuss this with her beforehand – they were supposed to work together on matters like this, especially since he expected her to manage the bakery after she graduated. Rosella voiced her concerns about paying a new employee but her father defended his decision with the claim that new blood would bring new desserts and more customers. The second comment was shared with Rosella after the meal, out of the twins' earshot. Rosella shrugged in the end, as it wasn't a particularly bad idea and she only argued because she was disappointed in the lack of leadership he placed in her – even though she didn't want the job, it couldn't hurt to show a little faith in your daughter, right?
"And that's why I want to sign up." Finished with his rambling, the boy leaned back in his chair and looked at her expectantly.
Hastily arranging a polite smile, Rosella mentally reeled back into the conversation and racked her brains trying to come up with a polite way to reject his application as Cake O'Clock's newest baker. Inwardly wincing, she took a chance, crossing her fingers beneath the table and hoping that what she was about to say would be met with an agreeable nod. "I think that's an excellent point. You've certainly gone through some obstacles and overcome them all."
The young man – she was certain the name was George – considered this, and then smiled confidently, more to himself then to her. "That's right. I am pretty good at coming up with answers."
"Can I ask what work experience you have?" Heaving an inner sigh of relief, Rosella thumbed through the papers on the several other potential bakers she had interviewed in the past couple hours. None of them had the qualities she and her father were looking for, and she was sure George's application would soon join the others, destination: trashcan.
"I just told you," he rolled his eyes, "I'm great at solving problems."
Yes, I'm sorry. I'm so silly.
Rosella eyed his comfortable, slouching posture, expensive pearl-white shoes, and golf polo t-shirt. She didn't want to assume he was a stereotypical rich kid who hadn't worked a day in his life, but he certainly went out of his way to look the part. He would be the easiest to reject.
"That's an admirable quality." Rosella spread her hands and adjusted her position so she sat whip-straight in her chair. "And I can think of dozens of other companies and businesses that could benefit from your incredible skills. I'm sorry to say it, but I cannot take you in."
He kicked up less of a fuss than Rosella expected, but it still took a good couple minutes and more sincere-sounding apologies to push George out the door. Rosella sighed and looked at the clock above the door after she waved at his departing motorbike. It was 5:37 PM, meaning that she had been interviewing potential employees for over three and a half hours. The poster taped to the door that Rosella had quickly designed and printed the night before, fluttered and danced in the breeze, bold green letters spelling BAKERY HIRING.
Rosella hissed as her bottom began to ache from hours in a hard-back chair and she closed her eyes, imagining the disappointed look on her father's face when she inevitably told him of the failure of this afternoon's recruitment attempt. She shut the door and turned back to dimly lit space, and the table with a dozen clipped papers all marked in red ink. Bending down to pick up one that had fallen, she found the paper cup she accidentally brushed off the table during George's interview. It was so unprogressive that she had zoned out, not noticing the sound of the cup hitting the floor. It seemed the interviewee had either been too caught up in speaking or simply didn't care to inform her.
Holding the cup gingerly in one hand, she moved to the trashcan by the door with the stack of papers in the other. A sudden pounding on the glass startled Rosella and she dropped the papers, scattering them everywhere.
Well this is just what I needed. Thank you so much.
"I'm so sorry. Please, let me help you." A boy in a red hoodie had pushed open the door and then squatted beside her, picking up papers that had somehow managed to cover every inch of the floor.
Rosella huffed and didn't reply. When she had gathered as many as she could without moving her feet, she paused to stare at him. He was smiling and had picked up just as many sheets as she had. He stopped too, when he noticed she was looking, and Rosella pointed to the ones farther away. He chuckled and took the hint. Standing up must have been too much work because he frog-walked around the tables across the bakery, brown hair flopping and messenger bag swinging to block his jerky movements. This earned a laugh from Rosella, and he looked back and grinned.
He's cute, her mind betrayed her. Thick eyebrows and the swell of healthy cheeks that unsuccessfully hid the high cheekbones. Then Rosella squinted and shook her head. That does not excuse anything.
"Why are you like this? Going around, scaring people," Rosella accused him, standing up in attempt to tower over him and cut a more criticizing figure. Still smiling, he stood up too, dwarfing her 5'6 status.
"I'm really sorry," he said sincerely, as he walked over to hand her the applications he had picked up. Rosella stacked them with her own and then unceremoniously dumped it all in the trash can. He gasped and Rosella whirled around to face him, a hint of a smirk crossing her lips.
"Why are you like this?" he teased, looking slightly crestfallen. "We pick them up only for you to trash it all."
"And why did we have to pick them up again?" Rosella countered, putting her hands on her hips and jutting out her chin. "Remind me, I've forgotten." Her friendly-sarcastic manner surprised herself. Something about the causal banter had caused her to come out of her shell.
The boy smiled sheepishly and dragged a hand through his hair, which caused it to bounce up even more. "Alright, you win. It's my fault. I saw the hiring poster and I decided to come in and take a look. I really didn't mean to bang the window and scare you."
A potential employee!
Rosella flicked on her business switch and gestured for him to sit down at the same table she had sat so many others, just a few hours before. The boy was busy staring around the bakery so it took him a few seconds to notice. Rosella took the seat opposite and handed him a clean application form. "I'm organizing the hiring of new employees. Fill this out, please. It'll only take a minute."
He took the form obediently and she handed him a pen. Almost automatically, she began to study him while he put pen to paper, oblivious to her scrutinizing.
Rosella decided to block out all thoughts regarding his appearance and noticed that his posture was very open. He had spread his elbows out, clearly feeling very relaxed, and his bag had made its way off his shoulder onto the floor beside him. His features were furrowed in concentration and he tapped the pen rapidly against the table as he regarded the questions. The smile lines that extended from his nose to the corners of his mouth had disappeared.
After a few minutes, the boy made a noise to indicate he was finished and Rosella jerked out of her semi-conscious state. She had been looking at the little cactus, brown pot atop the high table facing the street. It was a fairy castle cactus, and hadn't bloomed once in the three years it belonged to the bakery. The boy handed the sheet to Rosella, who could barely make out his big, scrawled handwriting.
"You wrote that working here would be a dream." Rosella spoke slowly, hardly believing what she was reading. "I somehow doubt baking cake all day is your dream job."
He grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so?"
Rosella shrugged. "You don't look like the type."
"Then what do I look like I want to do?" he challenged her, resting his chin on one hand and gesturing with the other in her general direction.
She shrugged again. "Health or sports stuff?" Just not food-related stuff.
"Umm... not exactly," he muttered, mostly to himself. Rosella rolled her eyes and he continued. "I'm sorry to say, but your assessment of me is terrible."
Rosella cocked an eyebrow, incredulous. She was used to accurately reading people, although she was best at reading emotions and taking stock of the situation, something one picks up with two little sisters. Now the boy looked worried, and to let him know the she wasn't offended, Rosella just nodded. He visibly relaxed. She gestured for him to continue and he struck a pose like he was holding something that he revered.
"I am…" he held the suspension dramatically, eyes trained on the object he was 'holding'. "A complete and total foodie."
"A foodie? Is that a real word?" Rosella flicked through her mental vocabulary but couldn't find a match.
"A foodie is someone with a particular interest in food, and I have a particular interest in just one area of food – dessert!"
Rosella contemplated this and decided to run with it. "Well, it seems like you're so far so good. Do you have any experience baking?"
Hesitation was never a good sign, but the boy went from enthusiastic to pensive and back to enthusiasm so fast that Rosella wasn't even sure he was hesitating in the first place. "I do…I mean, I have."
She nodded and took note.
"I make desserts all the time! Cakes, cookies, bagels, puffs, you name it, I've made it."
"Sure, you have." She nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to protest but she moved on, aware of the time. It was eight minutes to six o'clock and she needed to be home soon. "Last question."
He nodded while adjusting his hoodie, tugging it down to flatten out all the wrinkles. His left hand gripped one of the hood strings, knuckles white.
"What makes you special, and why should we hire you?" Rosella delivered her final question, extremely happy to have gotten to the point where she could ask it. None of the previous interviewees had made it this far.
She had prepared to give him a minute to think about it so she was surprised when he answered almost immediately.
"No one does food combinations like me. My passion is taking the deliciousness out of one food and combining it with the heavenly taste of another, and my dream in life is to be the one to unite two very special foods" – he clasped his hands together – "and become known as the man who redefined taste."
Rosella was laughing before she could stop herself. It was the head-over-heels, shaking shoulders, unstoppable laughter that made Rosella's stomach hurt. Realizing that he hadn't made a sound, she raised her head and saw that he looked genuinely hurt. She stopped immediately.
The boy picked up his messenger bag, wearing a disappointed but polite smile, and stood up. "Thank you for your time, but I think – "
Rosella hiccuped and reached a hand out to stop him. "Please don't go. I wasn't laughing at your dream. I think it's wonderful, and I wholeheartedly support it. Good food is nothing to joke about."
He nodded hesitantly but didn't look convinced. At least he isn't moving towards the door.
"Honestly, I was laughing because you're a perfect fit for this bakery." Rosella tried to widen her eyes in the most doe-eyed, sincere look but it didn't seem like it was working because the boy still looked skeptical.
"We're looking for new blood and the new desserts they can bring us, so I think you and your crazy creations can fit right in!"
His smile returned instantly and he dropped his bag on the chair. "For real? I can work in the bakery?"
His enthusiasm was infectious. "Yes, as a full-time baker," she replied with a grin just a wide. "You'll work Monday to Saturday. Bakers typically come in the early morning to bake the days' bread and confection, so you'll have to be here bright an early." She put her hands up to show six fingers and he gaped.
"I have to be here at six in the morning?" He whisper-shouted, incredulous.
"That's right! But don't worry, there are three other bakers who will keep you company and introduce you to our menu and the kitchen system. Also, you get all afternoons off, so it's six to eleven AM," she whisper-shouted back. "Will you do it?"
His concentrated face returned and his smile lines faded once more. Rosella debated either staying and watching him decide or stepping away to give him some privacy, because she wasn't sure how much time he would take to make his decision. Just as she took a step backward, he opened his mouth.
"Yes, yes, I will do it. Do you have the contract I need to sign?" He spoke confidently but his hands were shaking when he skimmed through the document and signed his name on the dotted line.
Rosella watched him with concealed glee. She could now tell her dad that they had found the perfect addition to their bakery staff. "Thank you," she said, taking back the binding agreement of labor for pay and dropping the pen into her stationary bag. They stood there, neither one knowing what to do but not wanting to be the first one to move and break eye contact.
BANG BANG BANG
"What is up with everyone and banging the windows today?" she muttered under her breath. The boy must have heard because he let out a little snort.
Plowing through the door, Lexie emerged slightly out of breath, and her eyes were red. Blonde hair was a bit messy from the wind and Rosella spotted her friend's bike pushed into the bicycle stand.
"Lexie? What are you doing here?"
Lexie didn't answer, still breathing heavily, and Rosella saw her eyes flicker back and forth between Rosella and the bakery's newest employee. She rolled her eyes and asked again, louder.
"Lexie, what's up? Are you ok?"
"No, I was just… what's going on here?"
Rosella glanced at the boy, who just looked confused, and scooted a couple steps away from him in hope that Lexie wouldn't make anything romantic out of it. They weren't in close proximity to begin with – but Rosella knew Lexie would always try to make something out of nothing.
"I'm actually holding a professional interview, for a job opening at the bakery." Rosella stressed those four words, fiercely trying to make eye contact with Lexie to tell her to go away. Lexie ignored her.
Running a hand through her hair in attempt to tame it, Lexie walked up to the boy and stuck out her right hand. "Hi, my name is Lexie. Would you be interested in potentially dating my friend here?"
Rosella wanted to simultaneously punch Lexie and dig a hole to die in. She covered her face with her hands and groaned, confident that Lexie had just scared away the last opportunity the bakery had for a successful comeback in the market.
The boy reacted just how Rosella predicted. "Er… nice to meet you," he said. He took Lexie's hand and half-heartedly pumped it up and down, before leaning down to grab his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he turned to Rosella. "Thank you for the job opportunity."
Then he faced Lexie. "I um... that's... I don't know. Have a nice day, both of you." With that, he swerved around Lexie and pushed open the door.
"No, Lexie, why did you do that?!" Rosella reached over and grabbed Lexie's arm, shaking it as violently as she could. Apparently, it wasn't very effective because Lexie just laughed and ignored it, taking the chair that the boy has previously sat on. Rosella sighed and sat down too, trying to structure her argument so Lexie would understand the gravity of what she just did.
"Lexie." Rosella stared her best friend dead in the eye, a small part of her grateful that Lexie looked back battling with the other 99% of her brain that completely loathed.
"Yes, Ro?"
"You just scared away a potential employee. He could have changed our whole system and made the bakery well-known again."
Lexie's face paled and Rosella continued, making sure she felt bad.
"But now he's gone and everything continues downhill like before. So, thank you for that. What am I going to tell my dad?" Rosella said this last bit to herself, looking away to shake her head slowly at the floor.
The dancer's expression had turned sour and she winced. "I'm sorry! I…argh." She lightly slapped a palm to her forehead. "I never think before I do anything!"
Rosella raised her head but Lexie was once again avoiding eye contact. Before Rosella could say another word, Lexie reached over and picked up the topmost piece of paper off the table.
"Is this his contact for the bakery position?"
Taking the paper from Lexie, Rosella skimmed it and nodded.
Lexie smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Then you've got nothing to worry about." She pointed to the signature at the bottom. "He's legally obligated to come to work now, or you can take it to court."
Rosella narrowed her eyes but could not make out the letters in the scraggly signature. "You better hope he comes to work on Monday morning, or I'm making you scrub pans and cups for the rest of your life."
"What a horrible predicament," Lexie grinned. "Do you, by any chance, happen to have his contact information?"
Rosella scoffed. "Why, is Marcus not enough?"
Caught off guard, Lexie coughed, thumping her chest multiple times to get rid of it. "Not for me, for you! You might have another suitor in your selection."
Rosella leaned forward, wanting more information. "Lexie, you haven't told me anything about the semi-selection! Are you actually going to do it? Am I?" She put on a nervous smile. "Has... had anybody signed up?"
Lexie chuckled and patted Rosella's outstretched hands warmly. "Of course, people have signed up. I think you'll be surprised at the type of guys that will soon by vying for you affection. Pleasantly surprised."
Rosella frowned. How should I feel about this? she wondered.
Lexie must have noticed the conflicted look twisting Rosella's features because she reached over to jostle her best friend gently on the shoulder. "Don't worry! Everything's going to be great."
Uh huh. When has great ever really meant great?
Whoop! I should really be asleep, but I'm sensing an update-at-early-hours pattern so my reasoning now is just, why break it?
Thank you rysarium for this lovely, currently-nameless boy, and just for all the hours you spent with me at some (unhealthily) early morning times, introducing me to the world of Selection Fanfiction and forcing - ah I mean, gently coaxing me to read this crazy long 70-chapter fic (thank you GREEN!). For talking to me, listening to me share and build ideas for this particular SYOC, supporting my wackiness from day 1, THANK YOU RYSA. Oh and introducing me to a wonderful group of like-minded (selectionly-minded? ish?) people who've also been totally welcoming and supportive, so thank you guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
This one's for you, rysa aka cottonball.