The guy came in at nearly two-thirty, and Noel was relieved for the distraction. He and the man, thirty-year-old Simon, sat in a pair of leather armchairs in the corner of the front of the bakery, and discussed a surprise for his fiance, whose birthday was in a week. He wanted a two-tier cake that would take at least half a workday to complete once everything was put together. She apparently loved chocolate, because Simon was listing various, rather expensive chocolates that he wanted to incorporate, but overall he wanted it to be elegant, lacy, like the wedding dress she had fallen in love with. As Noel wrote down the necessary notes, he was given a picture of the dress as well, which was tucked into the notebook.

Will came in as Simon left, a little smirk on his face. "Hey, your lover's on his way down the street." He said, going around the counter to an assaulting glare and raised middle finger. Pulling himself up, Noel tucked the notebook under his arm and stretched. He didn't have allergy restrictions or some form of pickiness to work around, and beyond the dress, he had full artistic freedom, and a week to obsess and fret over everything from basic recipe to final design. At least he could take his mind off the oppressive environment he was thrust into when Alexis arrived.