Page 21 of Pastries and Promises

Her hands worked methodically, muscle memory taking over. The feel of the dough coming together soothed away the stress of the day. Here in this kitchen was her true happy place, where she could lose herself in the craft. Her kitchen was tiny compared to the commercial kitchen at the bakery, but at home she could be in her socks and not be tempted to eat all the cupcakes in the display case.

Once the dough had been kneaded to a smooth, supple ball, Eva set it aside to proof and let rise under a clean kitchen towel. She glanced at the clock, surprised to find over an hour had passed already.

Eva carefully lifted the bowl with the proofed olive oil honey bread dough, feeling its increased weight and size. The dough had doubled in bulk during its rise, perfectly airy and light.

She turned it gently out onto a floured work surface. After kneading once more to remove any gas bubbles, Eva shaped the dough into a neat round ball.

The oven had finished preheating, so she gently placed the bread into the hot Dutch oven, placing score marks across the top. As it began baking, the kitchen filled with the irresistible aroma of fresh bread.

Eva set a timer for 30 minutes, though she would check for doneness before removing it. Wiping her floured hands, she felt tired but satisfied after an evening experimenting with this new recipe.

While the bread was baking, Eva decided to step out onto her small balcony to enjoy the night air and admire the stars emerging in the dusky sky.

Out on the balcony, a gentle breeze ruffled Eva's hair as she sank into a chair. Birds chirped softly as she gazed up at the slowly setting sun.

The oven timer eventually interrupted Eva's peaceful stargazing. She slipped back inside, where the heavenly aroma of freshly baked bread filled the warm kitchen.

Carefully removing the hot Dutch oven, Eva admired the beautifully browned bread. The crust was crackled to perfection. As tempting as it was, she knew slicing into it now would be a mistake. It had to cool completely first. She would have to wait a few hours before she could try it.

So she simply breathed deeply, letting anticipation build for tomorrow when the flavors would meld and she could enjoy a taste. Maybe she would share a slice with Claire. The thought made her smile.

It was likely just a small crush, but nevertheless it was nice to have someone new captivate her thoughts, instead of only Liz still occupying her mind. This felt like progress.

Chapter Seventeen

Claire was curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of chamomile tea, taking some time to unwind. The only sounds were the faint murmurs of birds outside as evening settled in.

She was just losing herself in the story when an unexpected knock at the front door jolted her attention. Frowning slightly, Claire glanced at the clock - nearly 8 pm. She wasn't expecting any visitors this late.

Marking her place in the book, Claire set it aside and pushed herself up from the plush cushions. She padded across the living room in her sock feet and turned on the porch light before peering through the peephole.

Claire was surprised to see Peter shifting impatiently on the doorstep, casting furtive glances out into the night. She hesitated briefly, then took a breath and opened the door.

"Peter," she greeted him, unable to keep the note of puzzlement out of her voice. "This is a surprise. Did you need something?"

Peter smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Evening, Claire. Do you have a moment to chat?" His tone was casual, but Claire detected an undercurrent of gravity.

She nodded slowly, standing back to let him step inside. She had no idea what this visit was about, but the serious look on Peter's face told her it must be important.

"Is everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

Peter cleared his throat. "I noticed you were talking to Eva at the grocery store earlier..." he began.

Claire tensed slightly. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she played it cool for the moment.

"Yes, I ran into her while shopping," Claire replied evenly. "It was nice chatting with a familiar face."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, seeming uncomfortable. "Well, that's actually what I wanted to discuss with you," he said. "I just thought I should...give you some advice, as you're new to town."

He hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. "If you want to fit in around here, it would be best if you're cautious about who you associate with."

Claire felt a flare of annoyance at his patronizing tone. "What exactly are you implying, Peter?" she asked pointedly, though she was certain she already knew.

Peter let out a sigh. "I'm just saying, some folks around here have...reputations," he said. "Like that Eva you were talking to. Getting too friendly with her could cause some problems for you."

Claire crossed her arms, fixing him with an icy stare. She wasn't about to just take Peter's arrogant warnings at face value. "And why exactly would being friends with Eva be a problem?"

Peter shifted on his feet again, clearly uncomfortable under Claire's scrutiny. But Claire wasn't about to back down or make this easy for him.

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