Chapter 14 - The Return of the Starter
By Saturday morning, the bakery was operating at a pace it hadn't seen in a decade.
The line of customers stretched down the block, past the dry cleaner's and around the corner toward the alley where Opal Finch had once unloaded sacks of unbleached flour from the back of a rusted Ford truck. Inside, the heat from the double-deck stone oven rolled out in waves, carrying the rich, nutty, unmistakable aroma of fermented rye, caramelized crusts, and melted butter.
Audrey stood at the central prep table, her forearms dusted white up to the elbows, rhythmically folding a massive ten-pound batch of dough.
Julian Thorne walked through the swinging kitchen doors, looking significantly less stressed than he had all week. He was holding a leather briefcase, but instead of audit reports, it contained a simple cardboard box filled with hot drip coffee and cinnamon rolls.
“Morning, boss,” Julian said, setting the box down on the counter. “Thought you might need some fuel before the noon rush hits.”
“Thanks, Julian,” Audrey said, not breaking her rhythm. “How are the payroll numbers looking for the new locations?”
“Better than projected,” Julian smiled, pulling out a tablet. “Sterling’s venture group wired the first tranche of expansion capital this morning. River North is officially scheduled to reopen under the Opal & Son banner next month. And—you might find this amusing—the local television station that aired the Blackstone gala live feed wants to run a mini-documentary on the history of the bakery.”
Audrey paused, wiping a stray lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Tell them we’re too busy baking bread to care about television ratings.”
“Already told them,” Julian grinned.
Micah burst through the back pantry doors carrying a tray of raw croissants, his face flushed with heat and excitement. “Mom, we’re almost out of the morning batch! The line’s halfway to the crosswalk!”
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“Then get another tray in the oven, baker boy,” Audrey laughed, her eyes bright. “You wanted to handle things? Let’s see how you handle a two-hundred-loaf Saturday rush.”
Micah grinned fiercely, nodding as he slid the tray into the lower rack of the stone oven with the precision of a veteran artisan.
