2025-06-18 22:26:28
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Chapter 79
Max stepped forward, his movements flowing and hardly audible. But it put him on notice. He leaned between Henderson and Trisha, silent and unsympathetic; a barrier to keep out what was clearly growing tension. In his calm, almost conversational voice, he went on cutting through the growing tension like a razor blade, forcing Henderson away from his phone, clenching his thumb in the middle of a call. “Before you make that call, Mr. Henderson,” Max said, his tone even, devoid of any discernible emotion, “perhaps you should consider the implications of involving certain… associates. It might prove to be a rather inconvenient decision for you. And for them. A decision with… far-reaching consequences.”He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone he’d designed himself. A sharp, minimalistic device that seemed to buzz wistfully, compared with Henderson’s rugged handset. He didn’t make a call. The last thing he did was look at Henderson. Just hit the screen a few times. His thumb was m
Chapter 78
The air in "The Sugar Plum" became a hazy mist, not just of burning sugar but lullaby behind the moisture. Trisha, her eyes burning red, burnt with a fiery, protective fire, unloosened Max's hand, as though to signal from below, that some battles had to be fought head-on, with no consideration for human life, and her gaze, sharp, direct, focused on the baker, Mr. Henderson, who cast his shadow over Martha like a vulture as his fat, venomous wings stalked through the small, trembling woman.“Mr. Henderson, ”Trisha began, her voice, a little lowered, but now with a surprising force to it slipping through the silence and holding the audience to attention. “That is not what you should say. Martha obviously made the mistake. Accidents occur. And you have no right to talk to her this way. Not to anybody.Henderson, a portly man of an already mixed complexion, appeared to grow indignant; his chest grew puffier. He turned his sneering attention to Trisha, his small eyes narrowing, his assessm
Chapter 77
He ended up with a few more successful rolls and was sort of feeling pretty accomplished. Then when he was trying to flip a very large piece of dough he turned it too much on the counter and instead of it landing safely on the counter, it flew up, then landed on the counter, and sent out a soft *splat* right on Trisha 's nose.“Hey! ”Trisha cried, with daggers in her eyes and a piece of dough poking through her forehead. “That’s not in the market research brief! ”Max suddenly laughed, a kind of unburdened laughter that filled the little kitchen with laughter. “Yeah! I’m sorry! That was an unexpected... occupational hazard! ”He reached out, his thumb squeezing the dough off her nose, leaving his fingers for a while, accepting this intimacy in silence.Trisha laughed, her own face muddy with flour and her eyes bright, “It’s experiential learning! You’re getting the whole bakery experience, Max. Dough in the face, flour in the hair... The works. ” They quarreled, making some rather ridi
Chapter 76:
Max swallowed the last piece of that surprisingly good chocolate chip cookie, a thin coat of cocoa still on his lips. The sharp piss in the eye at Trisha’s treacly email had disappeared totally, replaced by a fresh feeling of gulpiness, something totally new in a world that looked all too similar but far removed from that high stakes mess he had generally been immersed in.“About time, Trisha, ” Max told her with a smile of amusement. “You’ve successfully lured me into your… bakery trap. The cookies are acceptable. Now, if there’s no actual business to discuss, I do have a rather demanding schedule.” He made a show of checking his expensive watch, though his eyes lingered on her.Trisha, however, was unperturbed. She leaned back against the counter, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, but there is, Max. Plenty of business. This isn’t just about *eating* pastries, you know. It’s about understanding the *soul* of the pastry. The *process*. Consider it… market research, part two.” She
Chapter 75
Trisha brushed crumbs from her dress, completely unfazed by his corporate jargon. “Oh, right! The business deal.” She picked up the slightly squashed scone from the counter, holding it up like a precious artifact. “It’s right here! This bakery. It’s failing. Terribly. A tragedy, really. And it’s a crime, Max. A crime against humanity not to save these pastries.” She picked up a slightly squashed croissant from a display case, its flaky layers looking a little too flat. “Taste this. It’s… it’s got potential. Hidden potential, like a diamond in the rough. Or a very, very rough diamond.” She offered it to him, her eyes sparkling with an almost childlike enthusiasm.Max raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He took the croissant, examining it. It was clearly past its prime. “You tricked me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact, delivered with a hint of resigned amusement.Trisha’s smile widened, unrepentant, a flash of pure mischief. “Maybe a little
Chapter 74
The email landed in Maxwell Lesley’s inbox with an almost audacious simplicity: "Urgent Business Opportunity - Bakery Acquisition. Meet me at 'The Sugar Plum' at 10 AM sharp. Don't be late. - T. Rossi." Max looked at the screen, a faint frown blurring his forehead, and a twinkle in his jaw. T. Rossi. Trisha Rossi. So the name evoked a burst of bright energy, a pleasureably unorganized muddle which he rarely associated with anyone in his otherwise systematically organized life. Why was Trisha being so lively and even slightly crazy he wondered if she knew. Trisha always somehow managed to charm him despite his usual, almost pathological, aversion to unsolicited business proposals and anything that deviated from his carefully constructed schedule.It was finally over with the Donxiote affair. But despite some untimely fizzle on their waning skyscraper, the devastation of their downfall still washes over the world’s financial markets, and he was looking forward to a brief quiet rest and
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