When a poor man turned forty-four, he decided to sell everything and go on a big adventure to find peace and a sunny place.
But no matter how well a man plans, a girl has the power to turn everything upside down.
The day Tiberiu met Eva, a mysteri...
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"That's the limit!" exclaimed Eva. "Man, do you hear what you're saying? What boy invites a girl to a pastry shop and then just stares at the pastry chef? That's just not done."
"Well, I had just done it. I was sitting there at that table thinking that if there was nothing more beautiful in this world than a girl making bread, a close second—immediately—were women making cakes.
But imagine what a fantastic woman she would be if she knew how to make both bread and cakes!
Unfortunately, women who are good at making bread aren't great at making cakes, and those who make good cakes are terrible at making bread. This means only one thing."
"And what would that be?"
"That God gave many qualities to women, but He didn't pack them all into one woman. And it also means that a man will always have to seek perfection in several women... so to speak."
Eva shook her head in disapproval.
"Anyway, you look at it," she continued, "it's not gentlemanly to be with one woman and gawk at another."
"That's what I thought too. But it wasn't my fault, it was the pastry chef's! That woman had the devil in her! I clearly felt how the magnetism came out of her and entered me. I was practically being spiritually violated. I was the victim!
I resisted, I swear! I swallowed hard and tried my best to break free from Mia's charm.
I lowered my gaze from her face to avoid being hypnotized. I lowered my gaze to her neck. She had a swan neck. Not good.
I looked lower and ended up at her breasts. They were acceptable. I stayed there.
Mia was about thirty years old and spoke with a sparrow-like voice. She was a classic case of a devilish woman with an angelic voice. She kept chirping and smiling at us, and she was sooo adorable.
How come I had lived in that town for twenty years and never stepped into her pastry shop? The only explanation, the only one, was that I was a regular at pubs, not pastry shops.
Irina coughed while I was 'weighing' Mia's breasts, and that brought me back to Earth. Suddenly, I turned red up to the whites of my eyes. I didn't know what to do, so I attacked my cake like a man. I don't even remember what kind of cake it was, but I know I finished it in a few spoonfuls.
Irina ate slowly, like the angel she was.
She had ordered a raspberry-soaked savarin and was slowly chewing through that ton of whipped cream. She liked sweets. It was normal. Who doesn't appreciate sweets? Who doesn't appreciate pastry chefs? Oh, I felt like I was losing my mind again.
My little angel stopped, wiped her lips with a napkin, and took a sip of juice. Then she glanced at Mia, who was serving other customers. She looked a bit displeased. At least that's how it seemed to me. Then her gaze turned back to me.
