скачать книгу бесплатно
“Oh my, yes. All the shrubs and plants around this place were ones she put in.” He carried on, telling Brian stories he knew by heart. With each story Brian heard the love and pining in his voice for this place that held so many memories.
He should move back here.
The thought settled into Brian’s mind with a certainty he couldn’t shake off. But he wouldn’t say anything yet. Not until he figured out exactly how he could support them if he stayed.
He watched his grandfather walk back up to the house, pausing at the orchard and smiling. Then he carried on, reaching out to touch the shrubs lining the driveway, stopping to stoop over a blooming dahlia, looking up as crows danced and darted on the gentle wind.
He belonged here. That much Brian knew.
You could take that job in the bakery. Then he could stay.
Brian cringed at the thought, but at the same time the idea wouldn’t leave him. His options were growing narrower and narrower.
He blew out a sigh, his practical mind fighting with the vision he’d had of his life. Never, in any iteration of his thoughts and dreams, had working at a bakery been part of that.
Even as he sorted things out, he sensed with each passing minute he edged closer to the decision he couldn’t avoid.
Behind all of those thoughts came another chilling one. He would be working with Melissa.
Who would be his boss.
Chapter Three
Brian stood in front of the bakery early Saturday morning, hands planted on his hips as he looked at the gold swirly logo on the window. This was it. His last chance.
As he pushed open the door, his mind flashed back to the last time he was here.
“You could use the money.”
Melissa’s words still stung but the problem was, she was right and that was why he was here.
He swallowed his pride and stepped inside the bakery, a buzz above his head announcing his arrival.
He glanced around the inside, his eyes ticking over the wooden shelves covering the wall to his right. They were filled with loaves of freshly baked bread lined up haphazardly, as if someone was in a rush to put them out.
The glass cases to his left held cookies, squares, cupcakes and stuff he didn’t even recognize but figured he would soon.
A movement in the back of the bakery caught his attention and then, there was Melissa, wiping her hands on a towel, a welcoming smile on her face.
That faded when she saw him.
Great beginning, he thought.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice polite but cool.
His throat closed off as the words stuck, but he forced them out.
“I need to talk to you. About the job.”
Melissa frowned, her head tipped to one side as if she wasn’t sure who he really was.
“If it’s still available, that is,” he added.
“It is. For sure.” She wiped her hands a bit more, then laid the hand towel aside. “When can you start?”
As if he had anything else going in his life.
“Now.”
She hesitated. “As in right now?”
“I thought you needed help.” Dread clutched at his stomach.
“I do. I do...” She caught the side of her lip between her teeth, as if thinking.
“Did someone else get the job?”
“No. Not yet. I have to talk to Mr. Eversleigh yet.”
Brian wasn’t sure what that was about, but he was surprised at his relief.
“I can start Monday if you prefer,” he said.
“No. May as well start right now.” Melissa brushed her hands over her apron and gave him a polite smile. “Come into my office and we can get some of the paperwork out of the way and get you started.”
Brian fought down his hesitation.
It’s only until something better comes along, he reminded himself.
Once that happened, he was out of here.
He followed Melissa into the office, feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. She sat down and pulled some papers out of a drawer.
“Fill these out. Let me know when you’re done and we can go over the basics.” Her words were clipped and Brian suspected she was about as willing to hire him as he was to work here.
Oh, this was going to be fantastic.
But he only nodded at her, then took the pen she handed him and started filling in the blanks.
Ten minutes later he was done. He left the papers on the desk and walked to the back of the bakery.
Melissa was dumping some flour into an industrial-sized mixer. She looked up when he came in. “Done?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Great conversation. This was going to be just swell.
Melissa wiped her hands again, then walked past him to the front of the bakery, stopping at the front counter. “I thought you could start with taking care of customers, stocking the cases and organizing the stockroom.”
“And baking?”
“I take care of that,” she said, a brusque note in her voice.
“I thought you needed full-time help.”
“I do, but for now you can start with this.” She leveled him a narrowed gaze. “I hope that’s not a problem?”
Brian held his hands up. “No problem. I just figured I’d have to be making cupcakes or some such thing.”
“I like to be in charge of the baking.” She said it with such a firm note in her voice, Brian pegged her immediately.
Control freak. Not that it mattered to him if he didn’t do any baking. This job was strictly a fill-in.
“This is the cash register, obviously,” she said, changing the subject. She pointed to a machine sitting on the wooden counter at right angles to the display cases. “People can pay cash or use their debit or credit card.” Melissa demonstrated, her fingers flashing over the keys. Brian tried to keep up but figured he would find out by trial and error how the thing worked.
“I’ll be in the back most of the day and when I’m not, Amanda is around. She comes at noon and stays for the afternoon. She knows how to run the cash register, too.”
Melissa gestured at a chalkboard on the wall behind her. “This is a list of the prices of the goods. I also have a master list of what I’ve baked for the day in the back. When the stock gets low, check the list first to see how much we need compared to how much we make on average.”
Melissa pointed out another checklist, rattled off some more information about stock and overages, words spilling out of her mouth faster than oil out of a busted hydraulic hose.
“Hey, Miss Sweeney,” he said, holding up his hand to stem the verbal flow. “You’re throwing too much at me too quick. Why don’t we take this one step at a time? Let me learn as I go.”
“Okay,” she said, her gaze flicking away from his. “I’m usually in the back so I’m available.”
“Good. Then I’ll start with memorizing the price list.”
Melissa nodded, then, avoiding his eyes, walked to the supply room just off the front of the bakery.
Brian blew out a sigh as he looked around the front of the bakery. Well, this was it. His new job. And from the way Melissa was acting, it was as if she wasn’t too impressed with having him as an employee either.
As Miss Coraline said, God moves in mysterious ways.
“One other thing I need from you,” Melissa was saying as she came out of her office carrying a bag. “You’ll have to wear this.”
Brian opened the bag, pulled out an apron with broad pink-and-white stripes, then stared at Melissa in dismay. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Melissa gave him another pinched-lip look and he stifled yet another flicker of humiliation.
“Looks too small,” he said, grimacing as he held it up.
“I had ordered a couple extra because I had assumed if I hired someone I would be hiring...” She paused, shrugged.
“Another woman,” he finished for her. He blew out a sigh and slipped the top loop of the apron over his head. The bottom of the apron, instead of coming to his knees like hers did, hit him midthigh. Well, his indignity was complete. God was definitely trying to teach him humility.
It’s for Grandpa.
“I can order another one.”
“No. I’m good.” As he knotted the ties at the back he couldn’t help think of the phrase “tied to a woman’s apron strings.” That was him. “So, what do you want me to start with?”
“You could start with them,” Melissa said as the door of the bakery opened and two men came inside. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat, then turned to his first customers of the day. His heart sunk as Don Mankowski and his ever-present friend, Jake Fry, stood in front of him.
Don was almost as tall as Brian but heavier. He wore tight T-shirts in all weather to show off the muscles he worked diligently to maintain. His short cropped black hair made him look tougher than he really was, but Don was all about presentation.
Jake was shorter than Don, not as heavily built, blonde where Don was dark and not as full of swagger and self-importance. A decent guy but too attached to his sneering buddy.
Jake and Don had played football with Brian in high school and had also worked at the factory, albeit under him.
Don elbowed Jake as he tilted his rounded chin toward Brian. “Well, look who’s serving up pastries. Our old boss, Mr. Montclair.”
Jake gave Brian a lopsided grin. “Hey, Brian. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Didn’t expect to be here, Brian wanted to say.
“So, this is your new job,” Don said with a smirk. “Suits you. All this sweet and fancy stuff.”
“What can I get you guys?” he asked, tamping down his own humiliation.
Don pulled a face as he looked around the display cases, then the bread racks. “You out of doughnuts already?” He shook his head, tut-tutting. “You snoozing standing up?”
Brian recognized the comment as a jab he gave Don from time to time when Brian found him slacking off. His back stiffened but he knew he couldn’t let this guy get to him.
“I doubt that. Melissa said we were well stocked.” But he walked behind the display cases to make sure.
Don was right. They were out of doughnuts. Great, his first minute on the job and he had already messed up.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
Melissa was cracking eggs into a large mixing bowl on a stand.
“We’re out of doughnuts,” he said, unable to keep his annoyance with Don out of his voice.
Melissa brushed some dough off her chin with her shoulder, then frowned at him. “We’re not out of doughnuts because I don’t make them.”
“What? Really?”
“No. I thought I would try a different direction with the bakery.” She hit a switch and the huge paddle of the mixing bowl started spinning around.
Brian could only stare at her. “Everyone expects doughnuts at a bakery. That’s not a good direction.”
Melissa’s expression darkened. “I think I know best what I’m trying to accomplish in my own bakery.”
Now she was getting all uppity with him. One of those “her way or the highway” bosses. He’d worked under a couple of them in the factory.
