Cruel Prince(Royal Hearts Academy #1) - A. Jade Page 0,28
enough.
I smile bigger. “That’s cool, I’m no—”
“If you’re looking for one of those pumpkin spice cream cheese disasters, there’s a Starbucks up the road.”
How in the world does this woman stay in business?
“Not looking for any of those either.”
The woman is visibly annoyed. “I don’t have any—”
“Job interview,” I blurt. “How about one of those?”
The woman blinks. “Oh.” She holds out her hand. “Dylan, right? Your aunt told me you’d be stopping by.”
I shake it. “Nice to meet you.”
She studies me cautiously, her irritation with me returning. “So tell me, Dylan with the blue hair. What’s your favorite dessert?”
“I like chocolate cak—”
“Sorry.” She gestures to the door. “I’m afraid we’re not a good fit.”
She can’t be serious. “Wait? Just like that? That’s not fair. You didn’t even interview me.”
She holds up a finger. “Oh, but I did. I don’t like liars.”
Okay, now I’m offended. “I didn’t lie. I really do like chocolate cake. It’s simple and classic and—”
“Not your favorite.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Fine. Let’s try this one more time. What’s your fav—”
“Irish Soda Bread?”
Now, I’m lying. But if it gets me the job, so be it.
“Kiss ass.” She waves a hand. “Goodbye.”
My heart sinks. “Please, just tell me what the right answer is. Or better yet, ask me some real questions.” I start ticking things off with my fingers. “Like how serious my work ethic is. Or if I’m able to work nights and weekends—I am, by the way. Or, if I have experience—okay, maybe don’t ask that because I don’t, but I’m a quick learner.” I hold her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t choose the fanciest dessert, or if you thought I was lying because I enjoy chocolate cake, but I really need this job, and I’ll do just about an—”
“What is your—”
“Cannoli,” I yell. “I like cannolis, okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “That was my fourth guess.”
“Does this mean you’ll give me a chance?”
Her lips twist. “Maybe.”
The bell above the door chimes and a man wearing a suit waltzes in. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers and appears like he’s going to pass out any second.
I step aside so he can place his order.
“Hi, I’m proposing to my girlfriend tonight. I know it’s last minute, but I was hoping I could get some chocolate covered str—”
“No.” She taps the counter emphatically. “You look like a cheesecake man.”
This woman is not only out of her mind, she’s the worst salesperson in the history of ever.
The man is proposing. Let him get some strawberries.
He smiles nervously. “Cheesecake is my favorite, but I know she really lov—”
“I assume you bought her a pretty ring?”
He nods emphatically. “Yeah, a little over two carats.”
She whistles. “Lucky girl.” She places an empty cake box on the counter. “Trust me, you want the cheesecake.”
His brows draw together as she removes a large one from the glass case. “But she likes stra—”
“Take it from someone who knows, young man. It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.”
Understandably, he’s confused. “I have no idea what that means.”
You and me both, buddy.
“It means,” she drawls as she closes, then tapes the box. “When you are in love, you share everything together without resentment.” She points to the now packaged cake. “Including this delicious cheesecake.”
Before he can speak, she punches some buttons on her cash register. “That will be $52.47.”
To my astonishment, the man pulls out his wallet and pays her before leaving with the dessert he didn’t ask for.
Her eyes shift to me. “Wednesdays after school from four to eight, and Saturdays six a.m. to eight p.m. The pay is twelve dollars an hour. No paid vacation or sick time. If you do well, I’ll add another shift.”
Her tone leaves no room for negotiation, so I accept. “Perfect.”
She opens the glass case again. “Are you a good baker?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “But you know what they say, there’s always room for improvement.”
She grunts. “How are your cleaning skills?”
“Top notch.”
At least that’s not a lie.
With a sigh, she sets a small paper bag on the counter and places a cannoli in it before handing it to me. “See you on Wednesday. Tell your aunt I said hi.” She holds up a finger. “Wait.”
I watch as she removes an apple turnover from the glass and drops it in the bag. “Her favorite.”
Funny, because I would have sworn her favorite was cinnamon rolls, but I’m not going to argue.
As promised, Tommy’s waiting outside for me.
“Thanks,” I tell him as I slide into the passenger seat.