Sugar Rush

1

Behind the glass of the perfectly manicured display case sit pastries of every sort: muffins, melon pan, Sata andagi, Momiji manjū, cinnamon buns, coffee cakes, coffee jelly, bagels, blueberry and cinnamon swirl, banana walnut, asiago, and our famous. The chalkboard sign above the case reads "Fresh pastries daily!" in perfect script.

Early that morning the pastries were each delicately unwrapped from their airtight packaging, from their sealed off, cellophane world, and placed in the case for all to admire. They are objects of desire. Passersby pause their lives for a brief moment to ponder the treats. The businessman tells the voice on the other line to "please wait a moment", the mother hushes her young child, the girl pauses her recap of last night's episode. They all stop. They look with longing, overcome by a craving, a desire to have what is behind that glass.

With their vibrant colors, shining sugar crystals, and moist exteriors, the pastries appear to be exactly what the sign reads: fresh.

I loved this job and no amount of money will sum up to the priceless smile, gratitude, and satisfaction that people will get from something that I have poured my heart and soul into.

"Saya!"

"Hai!" I responded as I walked out to the front of the store. Cake batter and flour were all over me.

"A customer wants to know the secret behind this pastry,"

That gesture was so common. People loved the bread as much as they did me, the way I made it gave it an amazing taste. When I was asked about how I made the bread, how it turned out to be so good, I would simply reply:

"Sorry, but it's a family secret."

The business was booming. Here and there, a local paper would stop by and write a column on us. Describing how "the air is more delicious than any flavor. Somehow the aroma captures everything good in there: the filter coffee, the various cakes, Japanese and Danish pastries. The blend is perfection, but as a mixture of flavors they would be terrible- "coffee-cake-pastry", I don't think so somehow. It's the kind of place I can sit in for hours, the air so perfumed without chemicals. I wish I could eat it, that my palate was as sophisticated as my sense of smell," Or " Saya, the owner of The Sweet Station, has [a passion for sourcing Japanese and European ingredients of the finest quality. Her pastries are delicate and ideal, as she is a strong believer in dedication and integrity.]"

"Ano-m-may I help y-y-you,s-sir?" someone said.

I turned my head to one of the girls as she was trying to keep her composure while her face was a deep red hue. I smiled as I looked at who she was looking at to notice the man was an extremely tall, attractive, fellow with platinum white hair as a small pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes wearing very casual attire. He did give off a type of suave vibe, so it wasn't weird to see a girl beside him clinging to his arm. I smile and laughed it off and went to the back to finish working on some pastries.

------

"Good job team!" I cheered, "I think it is safe to close the shop early today."

Everyone cheered as they began cleaning the story and then leaving one by one after. 

Soon it was just me alone, wrapping the desserts to take out. Given that I wasn't going to sell them, I often game them to the homeless or donating them to a center that helped people.

"Wait!" I heard a voice call, I looked at the source and saw a boy with unruly gravity-defying hair desperately running towards him, stopping a few feet before me. Getting a closer look, I realized that it was the boy from before that came in with a girl.

"A-Are you closed?" He asked between breaths, slightly disappointed.

"I'm afraid so, but come back tomorrow! I'll bake more pastries in the morning!" I smiled at him but felt guilty that I had closed right as he came running.

"Dang it..." he said, " The pastries were so delicious that I wanted to bring some for friends, that girl recommended this place but told me that it all sold out quickly..."

"Sorry about that..." I said, bowing my head in apology, " Here."

I handed him one of the wrapped desserts as he reached to grab it out of my hand. But even though he had the one dessert he seemed to have been satisfied. Instead, his head was lowered looking at the bag of pastries I had.

"How much for all of that?" he asked.

I almost choked when I heard him ask that. My eyes widen at his question,  "You seriously want all of the pastries in the bag?"

"Of course I do! Your Momiji manjū was so good, I want to see how the rest of the pastries it is."

You felt your heart race and face heat up at his words. Sure I had regulars who would order the same thing, newcomers who would dabble here and there to try stuff, and heck large orders of particular pastries for catering but never did I have someone just ask me to buy a bag of leftovers.

I lifted the bag of pastries and took one of the cakes out and handed him the bag sideways for him to grab. When he reached for it, his hands intentionally brushed my fingers before grabbing the handle of the bag.

"I need this pastry for someone, but enjoy the rest of them-" 

He laughed and licked his lips as if imagining the taste of the pastries, "I can't wait to eat these! I'll be back tomorrow for some more pastries!"

My eyes widen as he turned around and left the shop. For a good looking man he was quite the eccentric one.