"Bull always says don't trust a skinny baker, but I think he makes an exception for you." And in a moment he's going to learn why. He'll open the bag up through, slipping the pastry out and setting it on top, just about to divide it between the two when his pocket chirps out a tone, Krem frowning. "Go ahead, I won't keep you waiting," He murmurs as he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone again, an impatient text telling him to hurry his little ass up and not take his sweet time.

He'll respond quickly enough with some shit about how he's got enough sick days banked for the world, so he can wait. Waiting for what he won't say, but he's sure going to catch something when he gets there. "Sorry."