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“How long until everyone thinks we’re a supervillain bakery?” Sabine asked nervously after Hawkmoth’s second visit.
“We aren’t a supervillain bakery, and everyone knows that,” Tom said to her reassuringly, but Marinette and Sabine could see from his tone that he was as worried as his wife. Villains were bad for business.
Marinette quietly went up to her room, counted her allowance money, and commissioned Nathaniel to design a giant superhero banner for the front window. But nothing seemed to deter Hawkmoth.
“These are the best macarons in Paris,” he told Tom on his third visit.
“A-are they?” Tom answered with a frozen smile.
Neither Tom nor Hawkmoth knew it, but Ladybug was waiting in the kitchen, just out of Hawkmoth’s line of sight. If he tried to hurt a single hair on her parents’ heads…
But Hawkmoth didn’t hurt a fly. He just kept coming back . He bought macarons, cookies, croissants, and seemingly endless cups of coffee to drink with them. Marinette spent so much time standing ready to keep him from stepping out of line that it was starting to affect her grades.
“We have to tell him he can’t come here anymore,” Tom said one night at dinner. There were bags under his eyes that hadn’t been there two months ago. He buried his face in his huge, calloused hands. “But who can tell a supervillain no?”
Alya had a different perspective when she heard about it. Face glowing, she said, “I’ve always wanted to work in a bakery.”
“You have not ,” said Marinette, but it was too late. Alya was fixated on the idea.
“I have, but I just didn’t know it,” Alya insisted. “I want to do any job that might put me face-to-face with Hawkmoth.”
Marinette’s parents were hard to convince, but Alya had experience helping out at her cousin’s restaurant, and she could work a cash register. With the autumn wedding season coming up, an extra set of hands would let them spend more time filling orders.
“Just don’t do anything to provoke him,” Sabine said nervously at the start of Alya’s first shift. Marinette had been drafted into helping to train Alya.
“I won’t,” said Alya. “I promise.” And to prove how sincere she was, she mastered piping frosted roses in only four tries.
It was in this way that Marinette and Alya came to be alone in the bakery when Hawkmoth came in.
“Where are the owners?” he asked imperiously, looking down his nose at the girls.
“They’re delivering orders,” Alya explained while Marinette tried to sneak away to transform.
It was no good. If Hawkmoth saw Marinette go into the kitchen and Ladybug come out, he would immediately be suspicious. And he would know where she lived.
But Alya just smiled a perfect customer service smile. “What can I get for you, Mr. Hawkmoth?”
“Two orange scones,” said Hawkmoth. He spoke as if he were a judge condemning a prisoner. “They are exquisite.”
“Are they? I’ll have to try them,” said Alya, still with a winning smile.
Hawkmoth blinked at this. “And the owners. How long will they be gone?”
“Well, it’s a busy season,” Alya explained, sliding the scones into a waxed-paper bag. “They’ll be in and out, of course, but they’re a little swamped with orders.” As she handed Hawkmoth his order, she made full, brave eye contact. “But I’ll be here.”
Hawkmoth took the bag and handed Alya some money before she said the amount. “I enjoyed speaking to the owners,” he said. “They are quite experienced.”
“They sure are!” Alya counted change, never breaking eye contact. Marinette wondered how she dared. “But I like to talk, too! I actually have a list of—”
“Keep the change as a tip,” said Hawkmoth, cutting her off with what almost seemed to be fear in his eyes. He swept out of the bakery, and although Alya doggedly continued to offer her help, he never returned.
“How did you do it?” Tom asked, pounding Alya on the back. By then he trusted her to help with the smaller orders.
Alya expertly slid a tray of croissants out of the oven. “I wish I could un do it. I was so close to a big interview that I could taste it!”
Marinette, listening to their conversation from the front counter, couldn’t resist adding, “You scared him off, Alya! You’re this bakery’s guardian Ladybug!”
Alya went after her with a spatula, and Marinette was so overcome with laughter that she caught her in no time.