Page 61 of Rescue

“Hey!” he cries, his hands patting his hair.

“You’re making it worse,” she says, laughing so hard she has to bend over. “Your perfect, rock star hair!”

“I’m so sorry,” I hear Reed telling John at the front of the room. “We can’t take them anywhere. I’ll make sure they clean up.”

“John doesn’t seem too worked up about it,” Haylee says.

“I bet Paige paid a pretty good bonus for putting up with us.”

Haylee laughs. “Reed wasn’t joking about not being able to take you guys anywhere.”

The layering of dough and butter isn’t as easy as it sounds. John explains that touching the dough too much will cause the butter to melt, but layering it correctly requires a lot of folding and rolling it into precise rectangles.

“Good shape, Cash,” John says as he walks up and down the aisles to examine our work. “Paige, you need to even out those corners a little.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s steam coming out of her ears,” Haylee mutters, and I snort.

Once we have the dough layered, John shows us the shapes to cut it into to create our pastries. We roll up several croissants,pain au chocolat, a pinwheel, and a little basket shape that Haylee cuts in two accidentally. “Oops,” she says, trying to piece it back together. “Does that look okay?”

“Uh, you want the polite answer or the honest answer?”

She laughs. “I guess that was answer enough.” She points at my tray. “But look at your croissant!”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s wonky.”

“I’d rather it be wonky than cut in two.”

“Okay,” John calls. “Let’s get these into the oven.”

Our tray, wonkiness and all, is one of the better showings in the room. Daisy and Daltrey appear to have given up shortly after the flour incident. “We’ll try yours,” Daisy says when Paige protests. “I’m pregnant, Paige, I didn’t feel like rolling out all of that dough. Sue me.”

To my great surprise, the pastries on Cash’s tray look perfect. He’s beaming as he slides them into the oven while Sam stands next to him, arms folded. “He didn’t let me do anything,” she complains. “He’s obsessed.”

“Maybe we found his calling,” I say.

She shrugs. “I guess it’s my gain if he turns out to be some amazing cook.”

The only pastries that come close to Cash’s are Paige’s, of course. Reed is suspiciously free of flour and has his phone out—I have a feeling Cash wasn’t the only one who refused to let his partner help.

“While those are baking, let’s get our stations cleaned up and finish this custard,” John says.

“This was kind of fun,” Haylee tells me as she wipes flour from the counter.

“We got to see Dalt covered in flour,” I say, nodding in agreement. “I couldn’t ask for a better way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.”

Since Paige and Cash appear to be locked in mortal combat to create the best pastries, the rest of us hang back while they help John finish the custard. “What else do you have planned for Paris?” Haylee asks.

“I’m not really sure. Probably Paige will have some ideas.”

She nods, looking away.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know. I never really thought I’d end up in Paris, you know? It wasn’t really a dream of mine.”

“Where did you dream of traveling?”