Chapter 1

"An artist to the bones!" the customer sighed. The cake she held showed a three-tier flower garden in June, a wandering trail of ganache stepping stones surrounded by a profusion of buttercream flowers winding across the top, floating down the sides, and meringue mushrooms with a dusting of cocoa scattered about the idyllic scene. Inside, thin slabs of mocha cake were held together with crushed Oreos in chocolate buttercream, dark and rich as good soil. She tilted her head back, and further back, to look up at me and I tried, not for the first time today, to will myself shorter. *Stop looming, Hazel, stop it!* "I got our wedding cake here, do you remember?"

I did not, but my wall of fame -pictures of cakes for weddings, baby showers, and other life-changing celebrations - was there for a reason. After a few seconds, a cake with a pair of deer on the top, doe and doe, surrounded by layered buttercream fall foliage jumped out at me. "Of course I do!" I grinned down at her. "Nellie and Laura, right?"

Her jaw dropped. "Damn, that's good memory you got there."

I shrugged off the compliment, feeling a little awkward about my calculated social deception. "Well, I have my ways." A bell rang from behind the counter, giving me an excuse to retreat. "Thanks so much, Laura. I have to get back to the kitchen, but my assistant will box it up for you and help carry it to your car."

"Thanks, Hazel," she said. I could hear her chatting with Annie as I left. "Hm, while I'm here, I might as well pick up a few hermits. They're so good for breakfast, and maybe - oh I'm being so naughty..."

My mind latched onto that remark, even as I began cleaning the kitchen. It stung to hear my life's work described as naughty, like there was something morally wrong with enjoying sweet things. My work was the centerpiece of so many happy events, and were, in my opinion, a reason to be happy in of themselves. I made beautiful things, joyful creations that people posted on their socials and boasted about to their friends. When people took their first bite of my baking, their eyes fluttered closed and they sighed, taking the badly needed pause and deep breath that the pace of life denied them.
I quietly moped about it while collecting all the utensils and pans, filling the sink with hot, soapy water, and throwing in a little more moping on top of the mope. A tinge of guilt about running away from Laura colored my mood, but chit-chat was exhausting. A dirty kitchen I could face with boundless energy, a short conversation was not.

A high window separated the kitchen from the store front, big enough to let delicious aromas fill every corner of my business but small and high enough that I could quite effectively hide back here. And one of the perks of being tall as a petite Sasquatch, I could peek out and see everything while remaining hidden. I watched Annie assist customers while I washed pans and the kettle boiled, my mope settling down into a sense of calm. I set two mugs aside for both of us after stacking the pans in the drying rack. It had been a busy and profitable and thus, a messy day.

After Laura finally left with her hermits and muffins, the late day lull hit. It didn't come every day, but there it was so relaxing when it did. Current dishes done, I called to Annie, "Hey, do you want lemon ginger or hibiscus today?"

Before she could answer, the bell over the door jangled loudly. I peered over the sill and froze, heart suddenly pounding. A chubby - no, a fat, a very fat Pixie fluttered in through the door. His path sketched a graceful rise and fall in the air, almost down to the floor, then almost up to my eye level. He saw me at the top of one of these curves and gave me a friendly nod before turning his attention to Annie and the well-stocked display.

I ducked - had I been staring? - but even as I hid my mind went over every detail it had been able to capture from the glimpse I'd enjoyed. The word "spiffy" wasn't a part of my regular vocabulary, but it fit him better than his own clothes did. The neat cream linen vest he wore was clearly made or bought when he was slimmer. Its buttons gapped over the pale green button down he wore underneath. His pants were looser than his top, slightly flared at the calf like a bell bottom. And most fascinating, or inspiring, or mesmerizing, or all of the above, he was almost perfectly round, a sphere with wings. Pixies were rarely above average height, but he was already an outlier from their usually slim builds. In this way, he was perfectly normal for a Pixie. If he stood flat on his feet, my guess was he'd be... oh, his head would be bust height for me.

The inevitable image that popped into my head made me sit down heavily, not trusting myself to peek through the window again. Annie was already attending to him, so for the moment all I could do was listen. He had a light, warm voice, a resonant, melodic tenor, and he was full of questions. "What do you have that has almonds? I've been craving marzipan." and "Which one would you say is the sweetest?" and "Do you have any with exotic fruits?"

He'd been craving marzipan, and jam, and gooseberries, and mangos, and buttercream, and that was just to start. It sounded like he craved everything all the time.

Maybe just one peek. He was a hungry little butterball of a man, surely he'd enjoy my creations and return. He'd appreciate what I offered, and I'd get some occasional eye candy in return - which is where our interactions would stop, I knew. I had never hit on a customer and never would. I knew what I looked like (a breath shy of six feet, hipless and nearly titless, freckled like a blackbird egg) and didn't really feel like getting rejected in my own bakery.

Annie bubbled while I ruminated. "This bear claw has a raspberry filling, and that donut is smoky maple chili- it's great, you'd never know it's a vegan recipe!" The bell over the door rang again, announcing Kev, who often stopped by for a latte before his evening class. Annie used her gentlest holler to call out, "Haze, can you come up front and get a java for Kevin?"

I grimaced silently. I'd been hoping to disappear, but stepped out, keeping my eyes carefully fixed on the soft-spoken fifty-something professor. Kev and I shared a conversation held in nods, small smiles, and one-word questions and answers. He was gone in moments, and I would be too once I wiped down the espresso maker.

The Pixie was still fluttering, bobbing up and down, in front of the display case. "Hm, everything looks so good, I can't choose."

I turned away from the clean and tidy machine, and saw the sun glint off of golden-brown stubble scattered over his chin and plump cheeks. A demon seized used of my mouth, and I blurted out, "Why not try one of everything?"

Annie and the Pixie both glanced at me, one of her eyebrows was raised at my sudden willingness to chat. "One of everything sounds delicious, but a little pricey," he said sheepishly. "I might go for a few donuts though."

"No, it would be quite cheap. It's, ah, five for the price of one. End of the day sale," I said, picking at my dry cuticles. How obvious could I be and what did my freckles look like against a furious blush? "Owner's special." Annie shot me a funny look, a suppressed smirk emerging.

He cocked his head to the right, a grin spreading slowly on his full lips. "Well, if it's an owner special," he mused, grinning slyly. "I guess I can't refuse. One of everything it is." He absently patted his tummy while Annie and I went to work. Dark and milk chocolate croissants; jam filled bear claws in apple and raspberry; chocolate, snickerdoodle, sugar, maple, oatmeal cranberry, and macadamia and white chocolate cookies, black and white cookies, butter tarts, donuts of every kind and more filled the sizable white cardboard box. I tied it up with string, a sight that still filled me with a sense of childlike comfort, a white box full of potential joy.

Annie nudged me. "Hey, boss lady, I'm going to start cleaning the kitchen." Her back was to the Pixie - who was wholly focused on the pastries anyway - and her smirk was diabolical. My cheeks flushed even hotter.

"S-sure, I'll do the front tonight," I replied, trying to keep a professional expression on my face.

As soon as Annie left, the Pixie turned his leaf-green eyes to me, a wild lock of dark amber hanging down his forehead in a Superman curl. "What do you recommend I try first?"

I looked down at the counter, as if I was thinking, when in truth I was just trying not to stare hungrily at him. "Um. I'd start with some of the simpler flavors like the sugar cookies, and then maybe end with the croissants. The chocolate is 80 percent dark, it's a lovely strong flavor. It goes great with an espresso."

"Or a nice dark red wine," he suggested. He was idly playing with the knot on top of the box, and the way his finger slipped around it was a suggestion of another sort entirely. "Wine would be a good pairing if you were trying to use the chocolate as an aphrodisiac."

"Um, oh, yes," someone said with a tiny, squeaky version of my voice.

He chuckled, a sound that, in his warm tenor, was almost a song. "Unfortunately, I have no reason to do so..." He paused, for what felt like a whole season. "But maybe one day I'll have someone to ply me with chocolate and wine."

"Ha, I..." How do I respond to that? "That sounds... Yeah." Mission successfully failed, Haze. Back to small talk school with you.

He smiled wider. "It was lovely to meet you..." His hand extended towards me.

Come on Haze, you know how this works. I reached back and shook it. "Hazel."

"Ah, you must be the Hazelnut on the sign then!" His smile was genuine and wide.

"Yep, that's me."

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Hazel. I'm Xan." He glanced down at the box under his arm. "And if these taste half as good as they smell, I'm going to be back soon." He sketched a mock salute and left the same way he came, rising and falling in the air as his wings fluttered madly.

Once the door swung shut and the bell rang for the final time, I flopped backwards against the cheesecake fridge. My pulse finally started slowing down, until Annie burst out of the kitchen, arms wide and face wild. "He was flirting so hard with you, dummy!"

"He was?!" My bewilderment was genuine. I was a grimy mess, and my fly-away frizz was pulled back in a clip, which I knew made my face look even longer and - in my opinion - more horsey.

Annie sighed and crossed her arms. "You, my friend, are kind of a dope when it comes to romance."

"...Oh." I looked out the window, biting the inside of my cheek in frustration. Xan was well out of sight, and who knew when he'd return. 'Dope' was the mildest term applicable.

***

At five fifty-five, Annie shouted, "Hey boss lady!"

I poked my head out of the kitchen, lightly sprinkled with flour all over and a sour expression. "Please don't call me th-oh, hello Xan!" It had been only two days since his first visit, two days and he'd finished a box filled with enough for an office party.

"Hello Annie, hello Hazel," he said, grinning. "I told you I'd be back if I liked your pastries, and as it turns out, I loved them!"

I wiped my hands on the towel hanging from my apron and returned his grin. Maybe Annie was right, maybe he was really flirting with me. "I'm so glad. What can we get you today?"

Annie quietly faded away into the kitchen, leaving Xan and I alone. He pursed his lips and made a show of studying the bakery case. "I liked everything. The butter tart surprised me, I rarely see them outside of Canada."

"Oh, my mom is from Alberta! She baked them for Christmas when I was little, I do them from time to time," I said, peering into the glass display, "Though it looks like we're out today."

"That's a shame, my uncle is from Victoria, they were a highlight of my visits there."

"I've only visited the west coast of Canada once or twice when I was kid, the forests really impressed me." *Look at you, Haze, making small talk like a champ!*

Xan grinned, his round cheeks plumping up and creasing the corners of his eyes. "Ha, yeah, they are pretty impressive. My uncle runs a nature sanctuary in one of those forests. He's okay, but has a real 'more Pixie than thou' streak, oof." Xan's body language shifted, he licked his lips and shook his head, making his curls bounce alongside his generous double chin. "Sorry, you didn't ask about my family! Listen to me ramble."

"I don't mind a ramble every now and then," I replied. The clock caught my eye, it was a few minutes after closing. "Ah, no rush Xan, but I should lock up. Take your time and pick out what you'd like."

"Any sales going on today?" He wore a barely suppressed smile. "I don't want to be greedy."

No? That's a shame. "Sure," I laughed, locking the door and pulling the blinds down. "Same as the other day. Actually, this is the last day for that batch of Guinness cupcakes."

"Guinness cupcakes? Are you for real?" he said, sounding genuinely awestruck.

"The buttercream frosting is made with Bailey's." I felt like the Cheshire Cat my grin was so wide. "They're the ones with the mini-pretzel on top."

"Oh, they look so good." A near ecstatic delight tinged his voice.

"They might be a teeny bit stale, would you like to try one before you decide?" He nodded eagerly, and watched me with tight focus as I picked one out for him. I plated it with one of the lacy napkins I used for bridal tastings, and handed it over.

It was love at first bite. His eyes rolled back then closed while he chewed his mouthful. "There's definitely some chocolate in there, the Guinness blends perfectly with it." Another bite, a deep, satisfied sigh. "The Bailey's isn't overpowering, just sweet enough." His wings fluttered faster, lifting him higher. He could look me directly in the eye now.

"Thank you, I've tweaked the recipe a few times. I've had some pretty disappointing versions, but I'm proud of this one."

"As you should be!" Xan opened his eyes and licked his lips while his hands rubbed his belly appreciatively. The green in his eyes had a golden glint that almost matched the natural highlights in his hair. "If you say they need to go, I'd be happy to take them off your hands. You know, as a favor." He winked.

Before I even registered his request mentally, my hands began boxing them up. "Of course," I stammered. How loud would a heart have to beat to be audible? "These are on the house. Anything else?"

He paused and gave me a lopsided grin. "You're giving me ten cupcakes and asking if I want more? You don't, you know, think I should put the cupcakes down and stick with protein shakes or something?"

I closed the box and gave him a surprised look. "I run a bakery, Xan. That would be an odd suggestion for me to make to my customers." *And sacrilege to suggest to someone as gorgeous as you.*

Xan nodded, clearly pleased with my answer. "Just thought I'd ask. In that case, could you throw a box together like you did the last time? I trust your choices."

As I put together his box of goodies, I couldn't help glancing up at him as he fluttered around my shop. He looked at the wall of fame, at the pictures drawn by kids when we'd donated cookies for school events, at the pictures of me when I was a baby pastry chef in the kitchen of Pisces. He chuckled and tapped the frame. "You look like a teenager in this one."

"That's me, gangly and awkward in all seasons."

Xan shook his head, his lips pursing in a gentle frown. "That's not what I meant at all. You look excited and passionate, the world usually drains that out of us by seventeen or so." He smiled, soft and kind. "You still look thrilled when you talk about your creations, I guess you're one of the lucky ones that kept that spark."

My cheeks felt hot. "Well... thank you. I do love what I do." I proffered the box to him, holding it out over the counter. "Here you go, Xan. I hope we see you again soon."

"You will," he said. "I love what you do too."