Chapter Two
Chapter Two Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d had all kinds of customers over the years—early-morning joggers grabbing croissants, families ordering elaborate birthday cakes, even the odd celebrity in disguise—but never someone like her. Lana. She hadn’t offered a last name. She hadn’t needed to. There was something about the way she stood, the way her eyes moved like she was cataloguing the room and every exit in it. Polished, yes—but alert, as if she expected something to go wrong at any moment. The kind of woman who didn’t just walk into a bakery. She scouted it. And yet, she’d smiled at him. He kept hearing her voice: “I need a cake. With a hidden compartment.” Most people ordered a sponge or a ganache. This one? She wanted architecture. Now, she stood across from him in the back kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of her burgundy blazer as if she’d done this before. “I’m impressed,” he said, gesturing to the way she smoothed parchment paper into the cake tin. “You...
