Chapter 73 Ache
Sunday afternoons were supposed to be quiet, but Hugo's living room was anything but. His laptop was open on the coffee table, its screen filled with contracts and reports. Empty mugs of coffee and scattered papers were piled around him.
His phone buzzed beside him. He glanced at the screen and froze when Sophie's name appeared.
Hey dear, are you busy?
For a second, Hugo considered the stack of work waiting for him. Then, without hesitation, he shut the laptop halfway, his fingers already flying across his phone.
No . What's up?
He muttered under his breath as his eyes flicked toward the untouched files. "Not busy, huh?"
Her reply came almost instantly. Please come over. I'm home.
Hugo stared at the message, a slow smile pulling at his lips. In an instant, the laptop was forgotten. He pushed aside the papers, grabbed his jacket, and headed for his room. A quick change, nothing too formal, just something decent enough not to look like he had been buried in work all morning, and he was out the door.
By the time he reached Sophie's apartment, the weight of his unfinished tasks was the last thing on his mind.
Hugo didn't know what to expect when Sophie's door swung open, but it certainly wasn't this.
She stood in front of him with flour dusting her cheeks, her hair tucked beneath an oversized chef's hat that looked like it belonged in a cartoon, and a pink apron tied snugly around her waist.
"Hi," she said with a sheepish little smile.
Hugo blinked, then burst out laughing. "What in the world are you wearing?" He reached out, flicking at the enormous cap. "That thing could swallow your head whole."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't keep from laughing too. "Come in."
He followed her inside, still chuckling, only for the laughter to die in his throat as soon as they stepped into the kitchen.
The counter was covered in trays and plates of pastries, her signature cinnamon rolls, golden croissants, little chicken pies, and even a small frosted cake. The air was warm and sweet, rich with the smell of butter and sugar.
"Wow..." Hugo exhaled, wide-eyed. "You made all this?"
"Mmhm." Sophie beamed, then slipped her flour-dusted hand into his, giving it a squeeze. "I've been thinking of opening a little café. Something small, just pastries and coffee. I love baking, and I figured, why not share it? But before I decide anything, I need my most trusted taste-tester to give me honest feedback."
Hugo glanced at her, then at the colorful spread again, and let out a low whistle. "You're serious about this."
"Completely," she said, her eyes shining.
He shook his head in disbelief, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You know, when you texted me, this was the last thing I pictured. But... I think I just walked into heaven."
Her laughter filled the room, light and contagious, as she tugged him toward the table. "Then sit. Heaven is served warm."
Hugo settled into a chair at the little dining table, leaning back as Sophie clapped her hands together dramatically.
"Welcome to Sophie's Café!" she announced, her oversized hat wobbling slightly as she gave an exaggerated bow. "Our menu today includes... everything you see right here. So, sir, what would you like to order?"
Hugo smirked, resting his elbow on the table. "Give me one of everything."
Her eyes widened. "Everything?"
"Everything," he confirmed with mock seriousness.
"Very well," she said, lifting her chin proudly. She began placing one of each pastry in front of him, a cinnamon roll, a chicken pie, a croissant, and a slice of cake, before setting down a tall glass of milk with a flourish. "Bon appétit, monsieur."
Hugo chuckled, picking up his fork. "Thank you kindly."
Sophie sat across from him, hands folded under her chin, watching him like a hawk.
He tried the cake first, humming thoughtfully. "This is lovely. Moist, not too sweet. You've outdone yourself here."
Sophie's smile grew.
Next was the cinnamon roll. His eyes lit up after the first bite. "Bomb. As always."
She let out a proud little laugh, clearly pleased.
Then came the chicken pie. Hugo chewed slowly, set his fork down, and gave a small shrug. "Hmm. Not your best. The filling's a little dry."
Sophie's smile wavered.
Finally, the croissant. He bit into it, frowned slightly, and shook his head. "Not as crispy as it should be. Tastes good, but the texture's off."
The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. She yanked off her oversized chef's hat, tossed it onto the counter with a groan, and stood.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, stomping toward the sofa. "All that work, and you just tear it apart in seconds."
She plopped down, folding her arms tightly across her chest, looking very much like a sulking child in her pink apron.
Hugo blinked at her, then burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, come on, Sophie, don't tell me the great chef can't take a little criticism."
She shot him a glare from the sofa. "You're supposed to encourage me, not crush my dreams."
Hugo wiped his hands on a napkin, then pushed his chair back and walked over to the sofa. Sophie sat there, arms folded, her pink apron dusted with flour, looking adorably stubborn.
He lowered himself beside her, leaning in just enough to catch her eye. "I thought you wanted an honest review," he said gently. "If I lie to you, your customers definitely won't."
Her lips twitched, fighting the urge to smile. She turned her head toward him, sighing. "True..."
Seeing her soften, Hugo slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer until she leaned against him. "Those were really lovely, Sophie. I can see you're trying out new things, and no one gets it perfect on the first try. But you, " he tipped his head, catching her gaze, "you're more than capable of opening the best café in town. And I have no doubt your pastries will be the reason people keep coming back."
Her smile bloomed slowly, warmth filling her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you... I needed that. I just got a little down after spending hours on them."
He chuckled softly, pressing his chin lightly against her hair. "That's what makes them worth it. Every bite had your effort in it. And trust me, I'd be your first loyal customer."
Hugo pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Before she could even react, he dropped another on her cheek, then another just below her temple.
Sophie laughed, squirming in his arms. "Hugo!"
He only grinned and kept going, deliberately dramatic as he trailed kisses along her other cheek, her nose, even her chin. "This one's for the cake... this one's for the cinnamon roll... oh, and this one's for the, "
"Stop!" she giggled, trying to cover her face with her hands, but he caught her wrists easily and pinned them down with mock seriousness.
"No escaping your reward," he teased, planting another kiss on her cheek.
Her laughter filled the room, light and contagious, until she finally gave up, breathless, her face warm both from the kisses and from how close he was.