Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,6
also need your job. You work hard. You deserve to be there. It’s your family business. You’re a much better pastry chef than Simon will ever be.”
“Thanks, but it’s him or it’s me. I’m hoping to find something else. It need not be forever, just until the bakery gets back on its feet. If I play my cards right, I might be able to work and help it get there, all at the same time.”
“What positions are you applying for?” She takes another sip of her drink. I can see by the look in her eyes that she isn’t done talking. “Surely you’re not planning to work as a pastry chef? It’s not like you can apply to work at your biggest competition, since that’s the only other gig in town.”
I choke on the sip, letting go of the straw and covering my mouth. “Lord, no! My dad would never forgive me.”
A well-known franchise had opened just around the block a couple of months back. They have stores all over the country and obviously buy their raw materials in bulk because they’re able to mass-produce products at a much better rate. I’m sure the quality isn’t as good as ours but it’s good enough to have stolen most of our corporate clients. We’d expected many of them to come running back, but it hasn’t happened. Times are tough. As a smaller mom and pop business, we can’t compete and still make ends meet. It’s tragic. My parents could very well lose their life’s work. I’m worried!
“What then?” Candice makes a face. “I can’t picture you doing anything other than baking and creating.”
I give Candice what I hope is a dirty look. “I can do other things.”
“Like what?” My friend giggles – we both know I’ve never been good at anything else.
“I can learn new skills, that’s what.”
She laughs. “Yeah, right. Unless you have a spatula or a baking tray in your hands, you are the clumsiest person I know. I’m not sure how you manage to produce such amazing cakes. They’re more like works of art. Yet your middle name should be Butterfingers.” She laughs. “Actually, that’s really funny. You’re a pastry chef…a pastry chef with butterfingers.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, you’re a real riot.”
“It is funny, admit it!”
I nod once, still smiling.
She sighs. “But in all seriousness, you’re shy if you don’t know a person. I know how much you hate working the front-of-house.”
I shrug. “I get by.”
“Only because you understand every part of your family business. Only because you love it so much. Not to mention that most of the customers are regulars.”
“I’ll cope just fine in a new environment if I have to,” I counter, taking another sip of my cocktail. “I’ve already applied for a couple of positions.”
Her eyes widen. “Where? Doing what exactly?”
“At the Westvalley Hotel as a pastry chef.”
“Okay…” Candice nods, “that would work.”
“Except it’s long hours, and I’d be working for twenty percent less than I currently earn.” I make a face. “I’ve applied at one or two restaurants, but I think they’re looking for someone who can do savory as well as sweet.” Not my forte at all. “I only studied pastry.”
Candice plays with the umbrella sticking out of a piece of pineapple on the side of her drink. “You said you were willing to learn.”
“Absolutely, but I’m not sure they’d be willing to take me on as a sous chef with such limited experience. I have my fingers crossed.” I hold up my fingers to show her. “I applied for a personal assistant position as well,” I blurt. I hadn’t planned on telling Candice.
“A PA?” Candice frowns at me. “You mean personal chef…because that might work.”
“Nope, I mean personal assistant.” I take another sip of my drink.
Candice pushes out a laugh. “You?”
“Yes, me.” I sound put out because I feel put out.
“A PA needs to be able to do a whole array of admin duties. Do you even know how to turn a computer on?”
“Of course I do,” I practically yell. The people from the next table turn and stare. I ignore them.
“No, really.” She lifts her brows. “You would need to be able to take notes and type them up. Answer the phone. Put together—”
“I read the job description. I have a very good idea of the requirements.”
“And you applied anyway?” She laughs some more.
“I can…sort of…mostly carry out all of the requirements. I help out from time to time in the office at Buns.”