Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Part 2

"Charlie!! GET HERE." Mandy sobbed, breaking me from my reverie.  I paused briefly, her wails coming through loud and clear. 

She wanted me to come home, to Maryland.  She needed me to come home.  Tiny Baker is mine.  And this isn't something I can fix from thousands of miles away.  Staying in California wasn't really an option. And this is where the obscenities came in.  I put the phone down on the counter.  I breathed deep.  I substituted the word "fuck" with breaking eggs, and then I whispered "forks and spoons" as the next best thing, under my breath, before putting the phone back up to my ear. Eggs smashed, heartrate soaring, panic mode engaged.

"I will be on the next plane out to you." I say through gritted teeth.  I hear Mandy start to cry again, and I can only hope it's out of relief.  I try my best to calm her down, but it's mostly just me talking and trying to explain to her that it's just pastries, and not the apocalypse. 

I have to admit how lucky I am.  At least she cares.  She cares so much.  And that's just what I need when I am running my business from thousands of miles away.  Someone who truly cares and won't just leave 50 cream puffs sitting out to rot.  What were you thinking, Krissy?! I talk to Mandy for a few more hectic moments, and then when she has stopped hyperventilating, I hang up after promising to text her when I am on a plane.

It only takes me a few forced, somewhat scatterbrained moments to finish the cake I am working on.  I need to finish it, and then I can focus on the issue at hand.  I've been running Tiny Baker for over six years now, and though it's been successful, it's also ruled my life.  I suppose that's what happens when you take your passion and try to make it into a successful business. Life = Ruled.

And it's been a hectic few years...the last five years, my flagship bakery has been mostly run by Mandy.  I took Tiny Baker to Los Angeles when I realized that I could make amazing money here.  There may have also been a small part of me that wanted to get the heck out of dodge.  So, my business plan was to make a ton of money baking frilly pastries in LA, thus helping to support my tiny shop back in Maryland.  Maryland isn't exactly known for it's amazing pastries.  But the storefront in the tiny, sleepy bayfront town of Havre de Grace, where I grew up, has been staying afloat.  All with the help of Mandy.  And so, while I hustle and bustle and sell my soul in California, Mandy gets to be the face of Tiny Baker back at home. 

If I'm going to start admitting things, I'll admit I miss the much slower, comfortable pace of Maryland, but I haven't missed it that much.  I haven't been back in quite some time, and to say that I'm not thrilled to be going back now is an understatement.  Actually, it makes me want to curse.  It makes me want to say "Sorry Granny!" and then spend all afternoon just dropping "F" bombs.  But I have a job to do. And a flight to find. And a business to run.  So I have to do whatever it takes.

I feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket.  Wiping my hands on the front of my apron, I slide it out of my pocket.  Looking at the number calling, I'm relieved to see it isn't Mandy again, crying into the cream puffs or telling me she just burned down the bakery and cut our losses. Instead, it is my best friend, Tom-- constant traveler, British intellectual, and major sweet tooth.

"I made three dozen chocolate croissants this morning, and if you want one, you're going to have to come here.  I don't have time to make a delivery." I answer the phone as I walk toward the small, cramped office in the back of the kitchen.

"Chocolate croissants? I'll take the lot." Tom says.  He's been my best friend for quite some time now.  Since about two weeks after I moved to Los Angeles.  So we were nearing the five year mark.  I smile and shake my head.  One thing I can always count on is his never ending love of sugar.  I'm almost certain the only reason we're friends is because I can give him a steady supply of sweets.