sunday was possibly the busiest day of the week. the day would start off more slowly than on weekdays, but business would start picking up at around ten in the morning. between people buying loaves for sunday lunch, or to last them the week, and the sweet sunday treat to be eaten as a dessert, locals would flock the little bakery that lottie adored. she had set up a blackboard outside the bakery, displaying the daily pastry specials, and was about to head back inside when she felt the impact.Ā āouch!ā she gasped, feeling helpless as the warm liquid soaked her shirt and burned against her skin.Ā āoh, quint! itās⦠itās alright. happens to the best of us,ā she reassured him with a small smile before noticing that he had spilled coffee over himself as well.Ā ādear, youāre soaked in coffee. come inside, letās get you cleaned up.ā
Quint was beginning to understand the severity of what heād done āā beyond being painful, it was downright inconvenient, particularly for folks like Lottie, who actually had to work on Sundays. Somehow, despite what heād done to her, the woman in front of him was incredibly kind, as always, and brought Quint a sense of familiarity that was both comforting and comfortable.Ā ā Truly, Lottie, I canāt seem to understand how youāre offering to take care of me despite my culpability here. Instead, what should be happening here is me asking what I can do for you, how I can go about remedying this āā ,ā a smile, ā āā like, for example, putting my skills to work for you, or something ?? ā