Billion dollar adventure : Meeting Mr Arrogant
the air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread. It was in these quiet moments, with her hands deep in dough, that Lucy felt most at peace. She was kneading the dough with a practiced rhyt
possibilities. Maybe she could expand the bakery one day, take it beyond the confines of their small town. She imagined her name above a bu
paused mid-knead, and she wiped the flour off on her apron. The figure standing in the doorway caught her off guard. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a presence that seemed to fill
, taking in every detail. He didn't belong here, in this small, unassuming bakery, where everything was homemade and heart-crafted. Th
s. She wiped her hands on her apron again, more out of ner
He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on her flour-covered apron, her messy bun, and the str
nce that grated on Lucy's nerves. "I'm looking for something worthy of my r
alm. She had dealt with difficult customers before, though none quite like this. "We have a variety of f
lease." He waved a hand dismissively, his gaze wandering over the shelves. "I'm looking f
ricia was a small woman, but she had a presence about her that commanded attention. Her graying hair was pulled ba
s who think they're above our small-town charm," P
aback by her directness. "And who might
ss her chest. "And I can assure you, our pastries are made with love an
Patricia had always been the one to stand up for their family and
oice dripping with skepticism. "Well, I suppose I could lower my standards just this once. I'll have a croissant," he said
e forced a tight smile onto her face and turned to grab one of the croissants from the display case. The croissants were one of their specialties-light, buttery, an
lightly as she did. "I'm shaking in my boots," she
saw a glimmer of kindness behind his arrogant facade. But it was gone as quickly as it had ap
le, but Lucy could see the wheels turning in his mind, the way his eyes flickered with thought. He swa
You need to work on your technique. The layers are uneven, and the bu
e dough, chilling it just right to achieve the delicate layers that took years of practice to master. And h
ink better of it. "You waltz in here, acting like you're some k
spread across his face. "I don't think I'm a pastry god,
said, her
d, his smile wideni
ion, cleared her throat. "Well, Mr. Pastry God," she said, her tone dry, "if
hallenge. But Patricia stood firm, her arms
ecline. But then he straightened, his eyes gleaming with a new sense of p
of this sudden turn of events. Who was this guy? And more importan
s if he owned the place. He surveyed the kitchen with a critical eye, his gaze lingering on
The key to a perfect croissant is in the lamination-the layers of dough and butter that give it its signature flakin
lmost graceful, as he cut the butter into thin slices and layered them between sheets of dough. He handled the rolling pin with the ease of
nt, butter distribution, and the importance of maintaining the perfect temperature throughout the process. Lucy found her
and set the timer. The smell of baking pastry soon fill