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takemedancingmaine · 6 years ago

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Taste Testing

“Shit!”

I looked up from where I was typing into the calculator on my desk and dropped my pen from my other hand.

I just waited a few moments to see what would happen, to see if my instinct was right. While I waited I pulled my hair back up into a ponytail and took a sip of my mint tea, long since cold. I’d have to reheat it, which was something I wasn’t too fond of doing, or I’d have to dump it and make a new brew. It was more than likely that I would choose the latter.

“Ruby! Can you come here for a second?”

I laughed to myself before pushing out of my chair and leaving my office to step into the kitchen, bringing my mug along with me so that while I was up I could make some fresh tea.

I wasn't wearing a neck scarf or a turtleneck today. I might have to wear one tomorrow just to ease out of my excessive use of both last week, but today I was back in a normal black tee with a cream cardigan over top.

Yesterday I was still undecided on whether or not my neck looked normal enough, but this morning I was confident that it looked fine, that the bruises had healed.

I was free from the physical after-effects of my attack. It was only a tiny relief after what happened, but it was something.

Louis hadn't said anything about my attire last week. I was quite worried he would notice, and he might have, but he didn't say anything. I was considerably reassured by that fact.

“What do you think of these Madeleines?” Louis asked now as he shoved a plate of them in my face. He had on an apron that had a fair bit of chocolate and flour on it and his blue eyes were bright as he looked at me expectantly.

The Madeleines had been dipped in chocolate. I looked from Louis down to the plate and grabbed one of the small treats and took a bite.

It was delicious. Not that I was surprised by this. I’d be more surprised if I didn’t like it, to be honest.

“Why did you yell ‘shit’? These are delicious,” I told him.

“I yelled shit because I didn't realise what time it was,” he put the plate down and picked up another, with another set of Madeleines piled on top.

“Why does the time matter?” I asked and glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty on a Monday. A completely arbitrary time. One that has never made Louis yell out an expletive before.

“How’s the sponge, though? Is it light?” He asked as he pulled back the second plate until after I answered. “I put orange in, it’s not too heavy is it?” He ignored my question.

“It’s perfect,” I told him. After years, of working alongside Louis I’d become quite the connoisseur when it came to judging baking. Louis and I would binge-watch the Great British Baking Show or drive around the city looking for the perfect Chelsea buns or cannoli. That, paired with working alongside bakers every day, made me into something of an expert.

I was not an expert at baking, but an expert in the tastes. Louis had shared his knowledge with me and as a result, trusted me to be his fair and knowledgeable taste tester.

“The orange and the chocolate balance really well,” I added.

“This second batch is lemon and ginger,” he moved the second plate closer to me in an offering.

“With pistachios, I see,” I gave him a nod of appreciation and picked one up to test it for him.

Louis always makes this grumpy face while I judge his bake. I know he’s tried them both and has his own thoughts about them. I also know Louis would never let me taste a bake he wasn’t at least feeling good about. Anything less than it being his personal flavour preferences that turned him off and he throws the bake out before even yelling for me to try it.

He did still get nervous though while he waited for me to pass judgement though.

I made a face at him and finished my bite.

“And?” he asked while bouncing on his toes, his brown hair flopping a bit as he did so.

“It’s good.”

“It’s the ginger, isn’t it?” His face gave little away as to what he’s feeling. I’d become accustomed to his various degrees of intensity when judging his own baking, along with the faces and questions he posed depending on his own thoughts.

“I quite like the ginger,” I reassured him. “It’s strong, although it’s ginger so I’m not surprised. I just don’t think it’s for everyone.”

“Because it’s strong.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “You know I like ginger, which is why you asked me. And personally, I love it. I think you could even put more in…”

“But…”

“But like I said, Lou, it’s not going to be for everyone.”

“Who would pick a ginger Madeleine though if they don’t like ginger?” he asked, not defensively. He was actually curious, he put down the plate and grabbed one of the orange ones for himself to munch on.

“Maybe people who like pistachios and lemon,” I said while reaching for a second because I wasn’t kidding when I told him I loved it.

“The lemon and the pistachios are a good balance for it though, right?” He ran a hand through his hair and took a bite of the orange one in his hand.

“The lemon cuts the ginger perfectly,” I nodded and took a bite, watching him as he looked down at the plate in contemplation. “And the pistachios pair so well with both flavours. I think it’s a winner, but maybe just a little bit less ginger.”

“You really do enjoy the combination though?” he asked with a deep breath. He held it until I started to speak again.

“I adore it,” I said truthfully and to prove it I took a bite of the second one. “Don’t give up on these.”

“I have no plans to,” he assured me and then he looked down at the last bite of the sponge in his hand. “What would you say about adding coconut to this one?” he asked.

“With the chocolate and orange?”

He nodded.

“I say that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

We were silent for a moment before I took my cold tea and dumped it in one of the sinks. He flicked the kettle on for me as I reached for a new teabag.

“What was the deal with the time before?” I asked, my mind travelling back.

“I have a friend from college stopping by today and I wanted to have these and a batch of macarons out of the ovens before he showed up,” he said as he wiped his hands on his apron and grabbed the plates to move them over across the counter.

“And the macarons?” I asked with a smirk.

“Not even close,” he shook his head. “I lost track of time when I was up front with Bridget on the register and now it looks like I’ll be spending all afternoon baking while Niall sits around bored.”

“Bored in a bakery? That's impossible!”

I turned toward the new voice, as did Louis, as the kettle clicked off.

“Niall!” Louis jumped and then ran over to the man, pulling him close and hugging him. I snuck glances at the two men while I poured the water into my mug to steep a new mint tea.

This was something I genuinely appreciated about Louis. He was never afraid of showing affection, never afraid of what anyone else would think of him hugging a man that tightly. Louis was such a loving human, one that didn’t care for the opinions of others, and it showed.

Harry and Liam were rather affectionate as well, but I think that's because they work with little children. Still, it's nice to be friends with people I can hug, or get a piggyback ride from, or even cuddle with as we watch movies after weekend drinks.

Louis stepped away from the other man, Niall, and I finally got a look at him.

Niall was on the shorter side, around Louis’ height, and with a slim waist and broad shoulders. He was smiling warmly at Louis, a smile that took over his whole face. Suntanned skin and short brown hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo advertisement made him seem welcoming.

His smile seemed so genuine, and I loved the way he hugged Louis back just now. It showed that he wasn't afraid of being affectionate either.

“Do you seriously think I'll be bored here?” Niall asked as he walked over and picked up a Madeleine and started in on it. “There are enough treats here for me to never get bored or go hungry.”

I hadn't been paying attention before, but as I stood steeping my tea I heard it this time when he spoke. Niall’s Irish and he's got an accent thicker than Guinness.

He smiled at me when he noticed me just a few steps away from him.

“And take that product away from my paying customers?” Louis was asking. “In your dreams, Horan.”

“Actually, yeah,” Niall was grinning. “I'm pretty sure I have dreamt about this!”

He came over closer to me and wrapped me up in a hug.

“I'm Niall,” he said as he hugged me. “It's nice to meet you!”

It was weird. I wasn't uncomfortable in the hug. It took me a while to let any of my friends hug me; typically I'm pretty awful with physical affection at first. It takes me a while to warm up to it. Once I was used to it I was fine, but it typically took a bit of time.

With Niall though I wasn't--uncomfortable. Instead, I hesitated for only a moment and then brought my arms up to hug him back. After another beat, he stepped two steps back and smiled that warm smile at me.

Blue. His eyes were blue.

“Ruby,” I smiled at him. He was unwaveringly charismatic.

“Niall,” Louis walked back over to us, “this is my best friend Ruby. She's also my business manager and accountant. So please don't scare her off.”

Niall rolled his eyes at Louis and finished off the Madeleine he'd placed on the counter before he had hugged me.

The blue was like the colour of the ocean, like the Pacific Ocean on a sunny day. I'd only seen it once when I was a little girl, but it was seared into my memory. I doubt I'd forget these eyes either. Not even Louis’ blue eyes were the same.

“Oh, Ruby’s proper smart, is she?” He asked while reaching for the chocolate dipped Madeleine. “And why do you think I'd scare her away? If you haven't scared her away, I think I'll be fine.”

“He thinks because he has an accent that everyone will immediately love him and everything will be roses,” Louis pointed at Niall while he spoke to me.

Niall just smiled.

I laughed.

“So how did you have the misfortune of meeting this guy?” Niall leaned against the counter beside me and gestured toward Louis.

“He had the position posted to an online job board and I was desperate enough to apply,” I said as I took the tea bag out of my mug and placed it in the trash before I came back to lean my back against the counter next to him.

Louis grumbled. “Don't act like we're not friends just because he's here. I already get enough from him and I thought I was done with it after college. Turns out he had to ruin that peacefulness by moving back here.”

I smiled at Louis.

Niall snickered.

“He's right,” I admitted. “He and I hit it off even in my interview and when he offered the position to me I knew it was the right decision to take it.”

“He's a pretty good kid,” Niall reached over and fluffed Louis’ hair a bit. “Took him under my wing at uni, was his first ever taste tester for his semi-professional bakes that came out of our apartment’s oven.”

“You were in desperate need of me as a friend, mate,” Louis imitated Niall’s accent for that last word as he fixed his hair. “Although I greatly appreciated your taste-testing when I was just starting out.”

“I think I appreciated it more,” Niall made a point of picking up another Madeleine and almost finishing it in one bite.

“Which is why I'm afraid to leave you in the kitchen all afternoon,” Louis gave him a pointed stare.

“I'll be fine,” Niall assured him. “I can find something to do if you just give me a small space to set up my laptop.” He pointed to his backpack over by the doorway, where he must've placed it after he walked in.

“It'll only be for a little bit while I finish the macarons anyway,” Louis was trying to talk himself into it. I could see his hesitation, but he had no other option really. We were running low on product.

“Alright, fine,” he waved toward a spot of the counter in the back corner away from the ovens, far away from his prime working spot.

“I appreciate it,” Niall smiled before heading over to pick up his bag and bring it over to his new spot.

I picked up another ginger treat and looked at Louis.

“So he's going to be a permanent fixture then?” I kept my voice quiet.

“Yeah, we lived together until I graduated and then he ended up moving home, but he's back here for good,” Louis nodded and glanced over my shoulder at the man in question. “He finally found a job nearby, and I'm thrilled to have my best friend back.”

“Two seconds ago you said I was your best friend,” I shoved his shoulder, a look of indignation coloured my features.

“And you are! I can have two best friends,” he pouted.

I thought of Cleo and then looked at Louis. “I suppose you can,” I smiled and picked up my tea before walking toward my office.

“Did you bring lunch today?” He asked when I was at my door frame.

“I was planning on heading to the Halal place. I left my lunch bag on my counter today,” I made a face. In my excitement to wear a shirt with a neckline lower than my chin, I'd rushed out the door and hadn't even thought about my lunch.

“Grab me something when you go?” He asked.

“I probably won't go until later, around one.”

“Works for me,” he smiled. “And depending on Niall’s munching between now and then, I might send him with you.”

“I'm older than you are,” Niall called out from his corner. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer. “I’m not a child.”

“That is yet to be proven,” Louis chimed with a smile. With a wave, he went back over to his workstation and I went back to my desk.

A light drizzle was my annoyance as I stepped out of the bakery and onto the street two hours later. It was almost two by the time I'd managed to get to a stopping point in my work. The three bakeries had done smashingly over the weekend and there were a lot of trends and business aspects to sort through, a lot of data mapping.

Niall, as it turned out, got a phone call right when we stepped onto the street. He was trailing a few feet behind me as he chatted to whoever it was on the phone.

I was fine with that. I didn't know if I wanted to talk to Niall all that much at the moment. He seemed nice, and I know that since he's close to Louis he must be a good guy, but I wasn't really in the mood to make small talk.

It was a win-win really, he got out of Louis’s hair but he wasn't in mine and I didn't have to force myself through a conversation. Aside from the rain, it was a nice walk a few blocks over to grab food.

Niall, for someone that’s been gone from the city for two years, seemed to feel rather at ease as he wove between people on the sidewalk, not hesitating for a moment, even while distracted on the phone. The energy radiating off of him was that of someone who was comfortable and relaxed in a big city.

I had to fight the urge to keep looking over my shoulder at him. It wasn’t just because I wanted to make sure he was keeping up--I knew I didn’t need to check on that. Rather, it was because he was intriguing. The brunette Irish boy who’d been in the States for college, moved home for two years, and now was back--for good according to Louis--and he had raised a lot of questions in my mind.

First and foremost, if he seemed so comfortable here, why did he leave and go home in the first place? The feeling of my not knowing was hard to ignore. That not knowing, coupled with the fact that I still wasn’t settled after what had happened to me was flooding my senses.

Over a week later and I still was feeling weird all the time. I wasn’t scared, not really. I was just unsettled and I think that was worse.

I’ve got Louis’ order written in as a note on my phone and as I stepped into the shop to order I noticed Niall hesitated before stopping outside under an awning. I assumed in order to finish his phone call. I pushed my hood back off my head and rolled my shoulders before stepping onto the sizeable line.

Once I’d ordered I saw that Niall had finished his call and come inside. He had pushed his own hood back while he waited on line. It was then, once I’d paid and had glanced at him I began to think about all of the unknowns.

I think about him moving away and coming back, I think of the possibility that he’s emotionally unavailable--like Louis--, I think about how I know next to nothing about him, and I think about how there’s such a slim chance that we’re even a little bit compatible as friends.

I mean, it’s entirely possible it turns out that we dislike each other. We could just end up tolerating each other because of our mutual friendship with Louis, but we could be bitter and spiteful toward each other. There’s a whole bag of unknowns when I look at him as he pays for his order. I don’t like not knowing, but what if the result is worse than not knowing?

I figured if Louis had anything to say about it and Niall was going to be around, I'd have my answer soon enough. As it was, he came up beside me and together we waited for our orders.

I knew he was itching to say something, I could tell by the way he was fidgeting beside me. I wanted to put him out of his misery, so I took the first step.

“What is it you do, Niall?”

His head whipped over to me as if he was surprised I had spoken to him. His blue eyes, bluer than blue, were searching my face as if to see if it really was me that spoke.

“I'm a copy editor. I start at Independent Publishing Co-Op over in River North next Monday, and before that, I worked for Puffin over in Ireland.”

“Isn't Puffin a huge company?” I asked.

“Before you go getting all impressed, I was an intern for two years,” he gave me a look. “I'm pretty sure it's illegal to have me do that for that long, too. But for two years I basically just brought people coffee and took extensive notes on everything that happened around the office.”

“I'm sure you learned a lot though.”

I didn't know what else to say to express my thoughts on that situation. I could only imagine how frustrating it must've been for him to not have moved up in the career he clearly had an interest in if he’d stayed that long.

I think of all the internship opportunities that had been available to me both while I was in college and after I’d graduated. Most of them were unpaid and those that were nigh impossible to get into because they were so competitive and so highly coveted.

I had taken one unpaid internship position that lasted my entire senior year. I ended up really enjoying the people and the day-to-day work of the office, but I wasn’t a fan of all the politics that were part of the workplace. I was turned off by how cutthroat some of it was.

It’s strange. I knew by getting into economics and business I would be faced with a fierceness and heartlessness that drove the market forward. Just because I liked numbers and the science of numbers didn’t mean I didn’t have a soul or compassion though.

It’s why when I was looking for jobs after graduation I had such a hard time finding anything that wasn’t an internship or a terrible bottom feeding position at some giant company that would suck out my humanity.

“I learned so much,” he nodded. “Not just about publishing, but about myself and the workforce in general. Which is always helpful.”

“I can imagine.”

“It was good though,” he assured me. “At least I was paid pretty manageable at Puffin. Before that, I was working as a bartender by night and an unpaid intern with a smaller publishing company by day.”

“Ah,” I nodded with a bitter smirk slipping onto my face. “The glitz and the glamour of the life of a recent college graduate.”

I was impressed that Niall has not only chosen two internships in a row but had been dedicated enough to stick with one that extended way past when it should have transitioned into something more permanent, something more than entry level.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded back. He kept a straight face for just a moment before cracking a smile and laughing. “I'm a pretty big deal.” He pretended to dust off his shoulders.

I laughed at him while my order number was called.

When I stepped back over to him with my bag in hand I realised I wasn’t pulling for straws to make a conversation with him. At least I could check bitter and spiteful off of the list of possibilities.

“Did you always want to be an accountant for a small bakery chain then?” Niall asked as he folded his arms over his chest. He looked down at me with a small smile and I shook my head.

“I studied economics at school,” I explained. “I like numbers and the predictability, or I guess in some cases the unpredictability, of the market and the global trends… I look at it as if it’s an art form so intricate and delicate.”

Niall was watching me closely as I spoke. His focus was almost intimidating. He was clearly impressed by what I was saying. I liked numbers and I like business, but it wasn’t something to be terribly impressed with. I wasn’t going to be featured in a publication of the Economist Monthly any time soon. Still, even with his gaze, I found that I wasn't embarrassed to be speaking so freely about my passion for my career interests.

“I love numbers, but I knew I never wanted to work on Wall Street. At some point down the road, I might look back and think of all the money I missed out on. I’m already planning on going back to school for my masters now that I’ve saved up enough. For right now though, I’m content with my job and my friends.”

“A masters?” His eyebrows went up as he tapped his arm with his fingers to an imaginary rhythm. I was watching the almost hypnotic movements for a moment before I looked back up at him.

“It's required for almost every job in the field. I should’ve gone straight after I finished undergrad,” I shrugged. “I didn’t have the money though. I wanted to be more stable. I know it’s all about increasing the compensation for myself afterwards, believe me, I’ve crunched my numbers many times,” he gave me an amused glance. “I just wasn't able to swing it at the time and to be honest undergrad had exhausted me more than I thought.”

“That's normal, I think,” he nodded. “Wanting some stability after so long in school where everything about your future is unknown. Like, grad school is a future, but it also prolongs the worst of it.”

“Exactly!” I jumped and pointed at him. “Like, yes grad school was a future and a certain one if I'd gone, but it would've pushed back and made worse the bigger uncertainty of life after school.”

Niall has just opened his mouth to respond when his number was called. He stepped up, grabbed his food, and together we walked back out into the mist that had fallen over the city. It was like walking through a cloud.

“I almost forgot how the weather could get here,” Niall said as he moved his bag in his hands so that he could pull his hood back up. It wouldn't do much work in the grand scheme of thing with the dampness coming from all directions, but I followed his lead and pull my own hood up as well.

“False fall sucks,” he shook his head as we waited to cross a street.

“I think it's kind of nice,” I shrugged. His head whipped around so that he could look at me like I'd lost my mind. “What? It scares away the weak hearted and all that's left are real people who love this place enough to deal with it at its worst. And then we get a few more weeks of warmth without as many people before the cold really settles in.”

Niall actually had a think about it for a moment before he looked down at me and conceded my point.

“That's actually pretty brilliant.”

“I like to think I've become attuned to the city in the brief two years I've been here,” I shrugged and ducked under an umbrella. I wanted to scoff at the person using it, but I just rolled my eyes and kept walking.

“You're pretty young then, aren't ya?” He asked.

“Only a year younger than Louis. And you're older?”

“Two years older, yeah,” he nodded.

“Wow, twenty-nine. You're almost over the hump.”

“If the average human lifespan was sixty, then yeah,” he shook his head in disbelief at my words, his eyes lit with amusement. “I'd like to think the hump is later, like 45 or 50.”

“I'm totally joking with you,” I smiled and laughed as we came back up to the bakery. “I just wanted to make you feel old.”

“Mission accomplished,” he grumbled with mock bitterness as he held the door open for me and then followed me around the counter and into the back. “When you turn thirty I'm going to make your life hell,” his eyes lit up with mischief.

“I'd expect nothing less,” I nodded. He was heading over to his seat in the corner, pushing his hood back and shaking out his hair with his free hand as I pushed my own hood down and sought out Louis.

The timer for the macarons still had a bit to go, so I made my way over to his office and knocked.

“Uber eats for Louis,” I held up the bag.

“You're a saint, Ruby,” he looked up from his laptop and reached out, grabby hands style, for the food.

“I know,” I shrugged and smirked before going through the bag and pulling out his order and leaving mine.

“I'll Venmo you,” he was reaching for his phone. “How much do I owe you?”

I shook my head. “You'll get me back. We’re doing dinner Friday at Ana and Harry's, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “Shit, that reminds me. I should add Niall to our group chat.” He reached for his phone again and started typing.

I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket and ignored it, knowing it was the notification of an added member to the chat.

“He seems nice enough.”

“He's a good guy,” Louis nodded and started unwrapping his food excitedly. “He didn't bug you too much? He's a bit much sometimes. He's got a big personality.”

I shook my head. “He was fine. Normal, not too big.”

“He hasn't had a beer yet today.”

“It's a two fifteen on a Monday.”

“He's Irish.”

“Fair point,” I laughed as Louis smiled at me.

“I think everyone will like him. I almost feel weird introducing another person to the group. It's usually Cleo’s side that gains us members.” There's only a slight tension in his face when he says it. If I wasn't looking closely I would have missed it.

I nodded. “I felt weird dragging you along three years ago and now look how far you've come. You're a groomsman in a wedding and Cleo even knows your drink order on a night out.”

“I know. I feel like a proper part of the friend crew,” he said before stuffing another bite in his mouth.

“Wow, you're disgusting,” I chastised before reaching into the bag for a few napkins and then throwing them at him.

“Thanks,” he winked.

“Of course,” I shrugged back. “Now eat before you have to get back out to your macarons,” I tilted my head toward the ovens on the other side of his office wall.

The funny thing was, even after years of working here right beside the ovens, I never found myself immune to the smells. Whether it was savoury or sweet treats that Louis was baking, I was always intoxicated by the scent the moment I walked into work until the moment I left. As I acknowledged the ovens, I felt myself taking a deep breath and closing my eyes for a moment, just savouring where I was.

No wonder Louis was worried Niall would eat everything within reach. If I had any less willpower than I do, he’d have to be worried about me as well. I wondered briefly if I should make a plate of treats designated for Niall to munch on after his lunch to quell the desire or if that would just make the desire worse. It would probably just make it worse.

“And tomorrow is bread day…” Louis trailed off with a groan.

Louis baked bread every day to replace inventory from the day before-never selling day old bread. He’d make the dough ahead of time and bake large batches every morning. Louis made his bread fresh every day.

On Tuesdays though, he would bake speciality bread or seasonal bread or bread for certain holidays in addition to his usual. He liked to just throw fun things out every once in a while and Tuesdays were bread days. The added dough to prep and bake made for long mornings for him on those particular days.

Louis was quite good at speciality treats and baked goods, but when it came to bread he was a master. I'd not bought bread from the grocery since I'd moved here.

“Anything special on the board for tomorrow?”

“Marble rye,” he said. “And I'm going to experiment with rosemary.”

“Rosemary separately from the rye, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and then he looked at the bag in my hand. “What are you still doing here?”

I opened my mouth to ask just what he was talking about when he interrupted to continue.

“Your food is getting cold and it's already past two as it is. Go eat,” he shooed me away from his little office.

“I’m fine,” I assured him.

“Go eat, Rubes,” he pointed me out of his office again, toward my own.

“Fine,” I turned on my heels and was back in the kitchen, the sound of heavy rain hitting the roof could be heard all of a sudden.

Niall looked up at the ceiling in disbelief and then over at me and we shared a glance.

“Looks like we dodged that one, didn't we?”

“It looks like we did,” I agreed with a glance of my own at the roof. It sounded like the sky had just let go and dropped everything it had on us.

With a nod in the Irish boy's direction, I made my way into my office, eager to eat my lunch and get to my lunch, my stomach grumbling.

#ohhhhkay sorry it's a few minutes late #but we finally(!) meet Niall #good things come to those who wait #Talk to me about it #let me know what you think!#fic: oth #fic: only ticket home

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