WWII Era. Imogen owns a Bakery her American father had left for her in Paris, her mother's home land. All she wishes to do is survive the war and the Occupation. She can't do that if the SS Captain insists on visiting her store everyday.
He may be...
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"Hello, welcome," I smiled brightly at a few people who had entered the Bakery. They nodded and gazed around at the knick-knacks that were displayed. It's been a week since my encounter with the Captain and his men. I've seen a few walking around, but none had entered the store again. It puzzled me a bit since they seemed to love purchasing treats from here.
An older woman had shuffled up to the check out counter her lips trembling as she asked for a baker's dozen sugar cookies. Smiling and aiding in small talk I set her cookies into a bag and waited for her to hand over the rest of her change. She never got the chance to because the door opened and the same man who took my breath away was standing there.
His uniform cast a hush among the customers. I glanced at them frantically as he began to move about the store. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his heels clinked loudly against the wooden floor as soon as he was clear of the door many left. The old woman was watching me with wide eyes as I watched him. I heard her scoff, and I looked down to see a sneer on her weathered face.
"Whore," She spat turning and rushing from the store. My hands still held her bag of cookies. Why would she call me that? I've never even slept with a man before. I shook my head and bent down placing the cookies back into there proper place behind the counter.
A shadow fell over me, and I peered up through the glass, my heart quickening at the sight of him. I fumbled with the latch and tried not to make a fool of myself. As soon as it was closed, I stood up and gave him a weary smile. I was scared- he was staring down at me, and I realized just how tall he was. The silence was deafening. I was trying to calm my breathing, as he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. My shaking fingers pushed up my glasses, and I looked him in the eye.
"Can I help you, Captain?" I had taken a step back from the counter as his blue eyes slid over the cookies and small cakes visible below. His fingers drummed against the glass as he tried to figure out which it was he wanted. Then he spotted the bag of sugar cookies and his eyes locked with mine.
"What are those?" His thick accented voice asked.
I fumbled for words as I undid the latch, "They- they are sugar cookies already packaged," I told him. His mouth upturned at my slight stutter before he spoke.
"How much?" He asked in broken English. His voice was deep and strained as he mouthed the unfamiliar words. I stared at him in shock. He could speak English! How did he know that I could too?
"They were already paid for, but the woman had left..." I told him.
He nodded and stood up straight holding his hand out for the small pouch. I plopped it into his large hand. Once again our eyes locked and we seemed not to want to look away. I looked away first, my eyes landing on the SS patch on his collar. He seemed to notice because his eyes narrowed and hardened. When I looked up at him again, a hurt look flashed across his face for just a moment before it was replaced with a scowl. It scared me at how quickly his emotions seemed to get the best of him.
"Is that all?" I bravely asked in German. Once again he seemed hurt, but only for a moment.
"Yes," He said hardly.
"Goodbye, Captain," I tried to make myself look busy, grabbing a clipboard to prepare like I was to check inventory.
"Goodbye, Miss Gallagher," I don't know why, but something in his voice made me look up at him. He had reached up and nodded bringing down the brim of his hat as well. I nodded and watched him leave.
I was finally able to get him out of my mind after an hour or so when a woman who lived down the street came storming in. Her pale yellow dress was splattered with blood, and I dropped my clipboard.
"They beat him! He's dead! My husband! Help me!" She wailed dropping to the floor. I rushed to her side, and that was when I saw it. The Yellow fabric knitted so harshly into her sleeve. I tensed but held her close pulling her to a chair.
"Are you hurt?" I asked her. She looked up at me her face red and distraught. She shook her head no as she sobbed.
"I'll get you a new dress," I told her quickly rushing up the stairs that led to my apartment above. I grabbed a white dress I had bought last year in London and returned down stairs. I grabbed a damp towel and handed it to her to wipe her face.
"You can change upstairs," She nodded and allowed me to show her upstairs. When I went back downstairs, I noticed the blood on the floor, quickly I dropped to my knees and scrubbed furiously at the red liquid.
Ding!
I looked up to see five men glaring down at me. Their uniforms were sending chills down my spine when I saw they were all black. How many of them were in Paris?
"Where is she?" The taller older one demanded.
"Who?" I lied.
His leg came up catching me in the stomach with his hard boot. I gasped as all the air left my lungs. I gasped and struggled to breathe while they drilled question after question. I couldn't understand what they were saying; I'm fluent in French not German. I struggled to stand. The one who had kicked me struck me with the baton.
I cried out my hand flying to my stinging cheek. I could taste blood. I glared at the man, and he only chuckled asking me where she was again. I didn't have to answer because a loud bang sounded overhead. He sent three of his men to investigate. His eyes observed me. I felt so small under his gaze and shifted on my feet.
She was struggling. Kicking and sobbing when she was brought down she had a fresh cut across her cheek, and her lip was swollen. The Nazi in charge smiled and went over to her. He checked her sleeve and narrowed his eyes.
He called out to his men who let go of the crying woman. He watched us both closely and with one last glare he stalked out of my bakery his shadows following closely behind. I let out a sob when the woman threw her arms around me. I had just saved her life.
