Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,34
had a pretty great date.”
Busted.
“My mom didn’t come home last night so that’s why I’m here,” Leah says. “Sometimes she gets too many bottles down from over the fridge and doesn’t come home.”
Oh, geez. “Okay, Leah, why don’t you get back to your drawing? Jason and I need to make the bread.”
I hustle back to the table. My face feels like fire.
“I Love Lucy,” he says. “Sounds like a smashing Friday night.”
“Hush.” I crack the eggs with too much force and the shell shatters into the bowl.
Jason peers in. “I believe you just showed that egg who’s boss.”
“Don’t you have bread to make?”
“I do, I do. It’s almost the end of March. Do we have a special bread for April?”
I head toward the stove. “The bread isn’t like the pickle of the month with a definitive beginning and end. We run the specials for as long as they are doing well.”
“Everybody loves my bread,” Jason says.
Leah materializes next to him. “What bread is that?”
“It’s called Dill—”
“It’s pickle bread,” I say quickly and flash Jason a murderous look. “It’s the white bread we normally have with pickle bits in it.”
“Can I help?” Leah asks.
“Yes,” Jason says.
“No,” I say.
Jason and I look at each other.
Leah laughs. “You guys are silly.” She looks up at Jason with soft, gooey eyes. “I know how to use measuring cups.”
“Excellent,” Jason says. “I sometimes have trouble with measuring cups, and I could use the help.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to the eggs. But even as I dump them in the pan with more force than necessary, my heart thuds. Leah’s never had a male figure in her life. In fact, we don’t know who her father is.
I’ve kept any men I’ve dated far, far away. Leah attaches easily to adult men. It’s clearly a longing she has. I’ve protected her. There’s no sense breaking both of our hearts when one leaves.
And now there’s Jason.
When I turn around with the finished eggs, Jason has gotten a stool for Leah, and the two of them are sifting flour.
“Eat your eggs, Leah,” I say. “You have to do it away from the bread. We can’t have your germs.”
“Jason gave me gloves.” She wiggles her plastic-covered fingers.
“That’s great. We’ll get you a new pair after you eat.”
“Aww.” She tugs on Jason’s shirt. “Nova promised me cheesecake after I eat my eggs. Do you like cheesecake?”
“I do,” he says. “My grandma makes the best cheesecake in the world.”
“Better than the ones here?”
“Exactly the same,” he says.
That’s interesting. He’s been using his grandmother’s techniques for the bread, and now admits the cheesecake is the same. Maybe he’s a closer friend of the Pickle family than he’s let on. A cousin? An illegitimate cousin? Now that would be interesting.
Maybe I’ll look him up. I finally got Internet service, and more importantly, Netflix, after my raise. I could fire up the ancient laptop I used to use for school and type in his name.
I should have done this before.
Leah scoots to the end of the table, away from where Jason continues to make the bread. I move around the kitchen, grabbing more bowls and the pans for the proofing oven. But I watch the two of them from the corner of my eye.
I’m going to find out more about Jason Packwood.
My sister is smitten.
And if I’m willing to admit it, I have to say one thing.
So am I.
Mom finally shows up around noon to grab Leah. It’s the middle of the lunch rush, and I’m short Kate, who had a wedding to attend.
I gesture her toward the back and try to keep the line moving.
Jason arrives to refill the pepper jack and provolone. “You should teach me the register,” he says. “Maybe when it slows down, I can handle the last few of the day. That way, I could be of more use when things get crazy.”
I nod at him. He’s learned most everything else the employees do. He can make all of the dishes, including the tricky stuffed pickles. He bakes the bread. Sets up and empties the sandwich line. Even cleans the bathrooms. Pretty much the only things he doesn’t know yet are running the register and balancing the receipts.
By the time the line goes down, Mom and Leah are gone. I go over the conversation I’ll have with her when I get off work. It’s seriously not fun to have to be the parent to your mother.
Lamonte starts reducing the amount of meat and cheese on the sandwich line