The sweet aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls filled the cozy bakery, drawing patrons in from the chilly morning air. Customers milled about, their eyes drawn to the display cases filled with the bakery's array of treats. A woman wearing an apron moved silently through the crowds, plucking items as she went. "There you go," she said softly as she placed a glossy blueberry muffin on the counter. A man behind her turned to face her. "Thanks," he mumbled, picking up his morning coffee. The woman dipped her head in a small nod that had the air of a departing motion. But the man had no intention of leaving. "Mind if I ask, who made that?" he asked, pointing and taking a second look at the muffin. The woman turned to face him, her face a mask of sugary glaze that covered the astonishment on her features. "Made what?" she responded coolly. "It, uh...that muffin," the man answered, taking a step closer. "Looks like your work. I'm just a big fan," he added, trying to smooth things over. The woman's eyes flickered between the man and her muffins. She finally sighed, disappointment clouding her features. "You know I can't say that it was me. I did make them all, of course, but rules are rules. And you can't tattle on the head baker, now, can you?" The man shook his head vigorously. "Nah, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. It's just, you're the best baker in town, and these are far and away the best blueberry muffins." The woman smiled warmly now, a note of appreciation in her voice. "Thank you kindly. I'm confident the head baker appreciates all your support. She'll be by later if you wish to say hello." The man nodded. "I'll be in the doughnut queue then."