Un-intended

Un-intended: chapter thirteen

"I don't know what I'm doing." Luca shook his head while staring at the bag of flour that sat on the metal table.

The night of the dinner, Luca and I talked the night away. He wasn't all that bad, to say the least. We made a deal to get to know each other. At least hang out once every two weeks and that doesn't include the doctors' appointments.

It was a late Saturday afternoon, I just closed the bakery and Luca decided to drop by. I was preparing dough for the next day and he insisted to stay.

"It's easy." I smiled. "Just grab a measuring cup and fill it to the numbers."

"I don't cook, I never have so this is new to me." He nervously said.

"There's always a place to learn."

"So..." He started. "Did you major in culinary at Harvard?"

"Yes." I nodded. "What did you major in again?"

"Business."

"Right. Figured." I nodded. "Sometimes I feel like it's a waste."

"Why?" Luca furrowed his eyebrows.

"Because. You go into this whole thing thinking that you're going to make big things happen. I've had such big dreams about my cooking and now I'm just stuck in this shop. A shop that's been failing." I looked around.

I loved my bakery, but owning a bakery was something that wasn't my forever goal. I wanted to travel around the world and learn different customs. Now I'm stuck in New York City with two babies and a shitty apartment.

"Failing?"

I nodded.

"What's failing about it?"

"No one comes. It's always empty. Now we average about twenty customers a day. Twenty! I've tried everything. This whole social media thing with Dallas, but nothing works."

"Prolly because this place is boring." He looked around.

I scoffed. "Well, that made me feel better."

"It's the truth. Trust me, I own an agency."

"Okay so, Mr. Agent, how can I make my business better?"

"For starters, there are a million bakeries in New York City. What makes yours special? Yeah, you've got a sweet story, but no one cares. New Yorkers, not me." He started.

"Alright." I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Just do something different. That food you made a couple of nights ago was banging. We don't have food like that down here." He shrugged.

"Noted."

"That'll be fifty grand." He smirked.

"For what?"

"My advice. You know how many people would kill to get my advice?" He questioned. "I wrote a book on it."

"Okay, Mr. Cocky." I rolled my eyes.

He laughed. His phone buzzed and he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Work. One second." He walked away.

I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi Luna, it's Katie calling from the adoption center-" I quickly hung up the phone.

I looked behind me. Thankfully Luca was too engrossed and whoever was calling him. I picked up the bag of flour and dumped a portion into the large bowl.