Page 36 of Never Let You Go

Does he still see me half-naked and wet from a broken shower, or is he just making sure his new apprentice starts right?

“You’ll need to tie up your hair under the cap. The cap should cover your forehead. It’s meant to absorb your sweat.”

Sweet. I roll my loose hair as best I can and try to tuck it under the cap, but it keeps falling back out.

Christopher rummages in the drawer where he found the pen and produces a scrunchy that has to belong to Skye. It has a bunch of green turtles on a pink backdrop. Our fingers touch briefly again as I take it, the warmth of his leaving a burn in mine, this time.

I quickly tie my hair and put the cap on.

He leans in and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “That’s much better,” he says in a soft voice.

Ohmygod. Please stay bossy and borderline grumpy. I can’t deal with kind Christopher.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, and my knees buckle.

As we head back to the bakehouse, the kitchen door to the outside slams, and a teenager barges in. Christopher’s brows knit. The kid hastily removes his jacket and disappears somewhere.

He reappears minutes later, rushing into the bakehouse in white garb just like the one I’m wearing, except it’s embroidered Isaac Fletcher. He stands with his feet slightly apart, hands along his sides, and says, “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Hey, Isaac,” Christopher says, and I swear I see the kid visibly relax. “Everything okay?” Christopher asks softly.

Isaac blushes slightly. “Fine. Great. Sorry again.”

Christopher grunts. He puts one hand on Isaac’s shoulder, and the other on mine. “This is Alexandra. She’s new. Why don’t you give her an overview of the baking process.” He lets go of our shoulders and takes a step back.

“Sir?” Isaac asks.

“Chris,” Christopher corrects him. “Your exam is coming soon. Let’s hear it. Start with a description of the equipment.”

Isaac points out and names the ovens, refrigerators, racks, mixers and their different functions, prep areas and how they are dedicated.

“You have a good memory, Alexandra?” Christopher interrupts.

“Yeah, I think so.” I shrug.

“You’re not taking notes.”

“Oh. Right.” I run into the kitchen to grab the first of my training booklets and a pen, and nearly trip on my feet when I rush back.

“What’s this for?” he asks me, pointing to a giant mixer that stands directly on the floor. Luckily, I remember that one. Isaac just went over it. I think.

“It’s for… kneading dough.”

“What is the purpose of kneading?” He isn’t looking at anyone in particular, and certainly not at me, which makes it more comfortable, in a way.

I still feel I should answer. “I don’t know.”

“Isaac?” he says, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Kneading is one of the steps in preparing the dough. It consists of working the dough to release the gluten in the flour,” Isaac says.

Christopher tilts his head toward Isaac. “That’s it?”

“… release the gluten in the flour… in order to… capture the air during the proofing process.”

“The air?”

“The… carbon… dioxide.”

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