You had been standing in the back alley behind the bakery for over a half hour, partially because you were way too early for your shift, and partly because your anxiety was making you feel like you were going to crawl out of your skin.
"You can do this." You kept repeating to yourself over and over, like a mantra. You smoothed out a wrinkle in the resume and cover letter you'd printed just in case some formal paperwork was needed on file.
The staff entrance was just a little way down the alleyway, almost taunting you. What if someone said something rude? What if Padme took the job offer back? What if you went right back out on the street to try and scavenge a job somewhere else?
Do or do not. There is no try. And there certainly is no standing around arguing with yourself. Your inner guide said. You squared your shoulders, picked up your backpack with your kit and water bottle inside, and pulled the staff door open.
Almost instantly, you were bowled over by Anakin, who was racing out the door faster than he was thinking about safety.
"It's happening!" He shouted, "I have to pull the car around!"
You blinked and watched him race out, and then put two and two together when you saw Padme waddling after her husband.
"It's time, in case you missed my husband's announcement." She said amusedly. "I'm sorry we can't stay to help out on your first day, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are here and we're getting some more help out front in a couple hours."
"Mazel tov." You said, giving her your best smile. Padme patted you on the shoulder and took her exit.
You pulled the staff door closed behind you, and then took a moment to look around your new surroundings. The hallway was lined with a coat rack and anti-slip treading, and various carts and trays were pushed into alcoves and closets to keep the path clear. Up ahead, you could see the open door of a private office, and another closed door that was presumably the same.
You hung your coat and purse, then crept into the belly of the bakery. You could hear tinny classical music being played, along with the bangs and clatters of kitchen prep. You passed the kitchen to go up front, nearly getting knocked over again as a woman with bright orange hair rushed through the doorway.
"Oh my goodness." She squeaked. "I need to watch where I'm going."
"It's fine, don't worry about it." You said, righting yourself on the doorframe.
"I'm Ahsoka, Sky Guy- I mean, Anakin- said you were coming today." She chirped and offered her hand. You replied with your name and shook.
"We have like an hour until opening, just need to get the display case ready and slice the bread. Do you know how to use a vibroblade slicer?"
"I think I can learn." You replied. Ahsoka pulled an apron with the bakery logo off a nearby hook and handed it to you with a million-watt grin. You had a feeling that the two of you would get along well.
"Oh, and you can put your stuff in the office here..."
As it turned out, the vibroblade slicer had fairly easy to understand instructions printed right on it. Put bread in, set vibroblade, close lid, don't stick your hands in, hit button. Pretty soon you had a neat stack of bagged, sliced loaves ready to go out on display.
"Great." Ahsoka said, wiping her forehead. The bakery had gotten humid and hot inside, even up front, as the ovens continued to run.
A loud crash from the kitchen made you both jump. Ahsoka winced.
"I'm going to go make sure Master Kenobi didn't hurt himself. Can you organize the cookies onto that tray?" she asked. You nodded and bent to your task. You heard Ahsoka leave, then the sounds of more things dropping or being slammed in the kitchen. Then a man's angry voice added to the din. You couldn't quite make out his words, but you got the feeling Ahsoka was being scolded, or someone was at least in trouble.
Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open and a tall man with strawberry blonde hair slicked back under a baker's hat was bearing down on you. You managed to maintain a firm grip on the cookies you were juggling, but your hands definitely became shaky.
"Out." He said in a clipped English accent. You looked around behind you just to check, he couldn't mean you... right?
"Beg pardon?" You asked, confused.
"Remove yourself from these premises." The man said, his words clipped in his anger.
All you could do was look between the tray, the cookies, and the apron you were wearing, certain you were mishearing something.
"Master Kenobi?" Ahsoka hovered over his shoulder. "We have to open; you can't fire our only other employee."
The three of you looked out the window with almost comedic timing, taking in the patrons waiting patiently for the door to unlock. Master Kenobi muttered a swearword under his breath and turned on his heel.
"Excuse me while I attend my Alderaanean croissants, we will rectify this... mistake, later." He said in a clipped tone. Ahsoka cringed in embarrassment as the kitchen door slammed after him.
"Don't worry, Master Kenobi is just... an acquired taste. He goes by the code, likes things to be precise." Ahsoka offered. You wiped your forehead, the sweat feeling cold despite the heat of the shop.
"Well, if I'm only going to be here a day, might as well make it a good one." You said, keeping your tone falsely cheerful. Ahsoka grimaced and turned to the coffee maker. You finished stacking the cookies. Then moments later Ahsoka scuttled to the door to let the patrons in.
After an hour at the register busily helping customer after customer, you were grateful to have done your time at a barista job in high school. The bakery only served a few drinks, but they were in constant demand as patrons made their cookie and croissant orders. By the time the flow of customers eased off, you felt like you'd been run over by a herd of wild animals, and it wasn't even anywhere near lunchtime.
"I'll rebrew the coffee, you grab the basket of Alderaanean croissants from the back." Ahsoka said over her shoulder as she handed a customer a box of donuts.
"Okay." You winced, knowing you would probably run into Master Kenobi while you were back there sourcing his precious croissants.
The kitchen in the back of the bakery was as close as you'd ever come to heaven. It was a totally different world from the chaos of the front area. Your eyes were on a swivel, taking in the high-end baking equipment, the spacious counters, the massive ovens...
"Excuse me." A cold voice startled you. It was Master Kenobi. You gulped and bowed your head slightly.
"P-Pardon me, sir. I came for the croissants." You said timidly.
The head baker gave an exasperated sigh and handed over a basket from nearby.
"Um, your kitchen is lovely." You said, before making a hasty escape.
"Oh, he's still mad?" Ahsoka asked, clearly seeing something in your face. You nodded and put the croissants on the counter so guests could see them.
"Don't worry too much about him, he's all talk." Ahsoka said. "He's a brilliant baker, but his people skills are... hmm."
Somehow that didn't really do much to calm your nerves, but a wave of customers soon drove the thoughts from your mind.
Closing time came both an eternity after you thought it would, and in no time at all. Ahsoka shut and locked the front door, and wiper her forehead. You leaned against the now empty bakery case, feeling wrung out from the busy day you'd had.
"We did awesome on tips today." Ahsoka said, counting the banks and tip jar while you mopped. She held out your share, and your heart beat quickly when you saw how much it was.
"Having only two people can really suck, but the tips sure are nice." Ahsoka giggled.
"Wow, I can't believe we get to keep that." You said weakly.
"Minus some for Master Kenobi, he got a tip on that catering order. But yeah, lots of credits for us." Ahsoka grinned. "I'll put the register drawers in the safe if you take this in to Master Kenobi." She continued.
"Okay..." You said, your heart beating wildly as you realized that would mean coming face-to-face with that icy man yet again. You took the bills from Ahsoka and slowly walked to the kitchen. The music had stopped, but the whole room was full of a delicious baking smell. Probably the stock for tomorrow. You looked around at the equipment in awe, taking in the industrial mixers, ovens, and miles of clean countertops just waiting for dough to be rolled out on them...
The sound of a throat being cleared startled you out of your admiration. You turned to Master Kenobi, who was looking down at you with the same amount of annoyed distain as before.
"Um, just bringing you your tips from the catering order." You said quietly, offering the bills to him. He took them without a word and turned away. You guessed you were dismissed.
"Your cover letter said you were saving money for pastry school." A voice called after you.
"Um, yes. I mean- yes, sir." You corrected, turning to face your employer.
"Interesting." He said, his back still to you as he read what you recognized as your cover letter and resume on the counter in front of him.
"I bake a lot at home, it's my passion." You offered.
"Be that as it may, do not get any ideas about your role here. Padme has hired you for the front. Don't get any ideas about stepping foot in my kitchen." He said smoothly. He turned to you, and you hurriedly wiped the shocked expression off your face. How could this guy just talk to people like this? No wonder people had quit because of him.
"Yes, sir." You said softly.
"You may go." He dismissed you. You turned on your heel, hot tears stinging your eyes as you untied your apron.
"Oh no, what did he say to you?" Ahsoka asked as you entered the office to collect your stuff.
"Nothing I'm sure he hasn't told anyone else working here." You said, scrubbing your eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow." You said to Ahsoka, hanging up your apron on the hook where you'd put your coat.
"You mean you're coming back? Even after what he said to you?" Ahsoka said hopefully.
"Yeah. For now, at least. I need the money. Bye." You left Ahsoka looking dejectedly at the desk and made your way outside.
Your first day of work definitely was not what you'd expected. It was tiring, hot, and nothing like what you'd hoped. But it would pay the bills. You felt your tips jingling in your coat pocket and knew it would keep you afloat, plus allow you to save up for pastry school. If you couldn't be baking scones, at least you could sell them while you waited for your dreams to come within reach.