Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,14
her head wobbles. She’s barely twenty-five but her soul is old. She adds character to the staff, that’s for sure.
Her eyes narrow when she sees me. “I’m fine,” she says.
I hold out my hands. “The dough is all yours. Can I at least fire-up the proofing oven for you?”
“Already done. I’m a professional, remember?”
“Never doubted it for a minute.”
Miranda looks me up and down. “Did you fall asleep in a tanning bed?”
Figures Miranda would be the first one to say something. I exfoliated the hell out of myself last night, but I’m still five shades darker than normal. “Something like that.”
“Well, it looks awful. Don’t do it again.”
I have to laugh. “Noted.”
When I turn, Roger, who is busily chopping onions at the cutting block, quickly looks down. He’s a shy fellow and seems uncomfortable with Miranda’s treatment of me.
I wrap my knuckles on the corner of the chopping block as I walk by. “Thanks for your hard work, Roger.”
He barely nods in acknowledgment.
Out in the main dining room, the line is starting to grow to the door. Time to jump in.
Tiana has the cash register well in hand, so I tie on an apron to help Angelo with the sandwiches. I greet an elderly couple and recommend a sandwich and pickle combination.
The line moves, and the three of us fall into a rhythm. I take orders and start the sandwiches, passing the tray along to Angelo for sides. I slide into a flow, an endless sea of sliced bread, deli meats, cheese, and pickles.
I have my head down, wiping up breadcrumbs between customers, when I realize I’ve asked, “How do you take your pickle?” and haven’t received an answer.
I glance up to a vision both familiar and entirely strange.
It’s Camryn, looking completely different than she did yesterday in her ponytail and yoga pants.
Her glorious mix of brown and auburn hair is down, curling gently at the end to cup those perfect breasts. She wears a black lace tank top with tiny spaghetti straps I’ve already begun to envision sliding off her shoulders.
Sparks shoot through my groin, and I can’t believe it’s already coming to life merely by spotting her in the sandwich shop.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She tilts her head. “Is that how you always greet your customers, Max Pickle?”
I have to physically shake myself. “I’m sorry. Did you want a sandwich? I’m happy to make one for you.”
Her eyes sparkle as they meet mine. She’s teasing me. “Maybe.”
My heart pounds like I’ve just come off a deadlift. “Can I interest you in the bread of the day?”
She leans forward against the glass protecting the sandwich line. “Can you describe it to me in succulent detail?”
My cock stirs even more at the word succulent coming from her lips. I feel completely brain-dead. What is it about her that turns me into a drooling twelve-year-old?
Angelo pops over to help me out. “Our bread of the day is called ‘Olive You So Much.’ It’s mostly olives, but also has garlic and artichoke.”
“Thank you,” she says to Angelo. “Is your boss always this speechless?”
Angelo glances from me to Camryn and back again. “Not usually.”
“I’ll take a veggie sandwich on that bread,” Camryn says. “And your hottest pickle. I assume you have a really…hot…pickle.” Her gaze never leaves my face as she says it.
Angelo clears his throat. “Sure. And it’s a really big dill…” He smirks to himself at his joke and begins making the sandwich.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. Suddenly I’m frying in this apron.
I glance behind Camryn. There’s only one other couple in line, and they are holding a laminated menu like they’ve never seen it before. With no other customers in sight, it seems safe enough to leave the sandwiches to Angelo and Tiana.
I take the basket with the sandwich from Angelo and add the hot pickles myself. “I’ll handle this one,” I tell him.
“I bet you will,” he says.
I walk around the counter, snatching up an empty cup as I go. We head toward the soda fountain. “My treat.”
“Thank you,” she says, taking the cup to fill it with mango tea. “I wanted to congratulate you on your big win.”
“Thanks.” I glance around. “Let’s take this table here.”
She follows me to a secluded spot tucked behind the drink station. We’re mostly out of view of the sandwich line. Tiana and Angelo are already whispering and looking our way.
I set her basket on the table and pull out her chair, then settle across from her. “Thank