as much blue sugar. It will look weird if we do like three-dozen sprinkles and only one with sugar.”
Josie nodded. “Well, let’s do four different ones, then. One dozen with sugar, one dozen with sprinkles, one dozen with crushed nuts, and one dozen with… crushed cookies?”
Zoe grinned. “Brilliant. Yes. Do we have chocolate cookies?”
“Definitely.”
Josie grabbed the short ladder and pulled it over in front of the tall set of shelves set into the wall behind the bakery cases. They stored their canisters of various ingredients on the shelves, making it decorative and functional at the same time. The canister of cookies was on one of the higher shelves, and Josie had to stretch for it.
She felt a twinge in her shoulder blade as she reached but ignored it. It happened from time to time. It was an overuse injury from stirring and whisking a lot during the day. Probably tendonitis according to Alicia, the nurse practitioner, Josie supplied with seven-layer bars on the side for family functions and potlucks. She’d never formally seen Alicia, or anyone else about the pain that came and went, but she’d mentioned it once, and Alicia had agreed that it was likely a hazard of Josie’s job.
It had started about a month ago and had been getting more frequent, but Josie was ignoring it for the most part. She didn’t have time to go to the doctor. Moreover, she didn’t have time to rest her arm. Her job required her to use it, a lot, every single day. And her job didn’t really have built-in sick time. It was just her and Zoe running the bakery. If one of them wasn’t here, Maggie could and did fill in, but it wasn’t the same, and Josie knew, without any ego, that she was the true talent. People came to Buttered Up for decorated cakes in part because Josie was extremely good at her job. The bakery was a town staple and was famous in this area of the state. Their recipes were tried and true. People bought their pies and cookies and cakes because they would be delicious every single time.
But since Josie had started at the bakery, right out of high school, they’d seen a definite increase in demand for specialty cakes for birthdays and other occasions. She could create anything out of cake. And word had spread.
So she had to be here. Zoe and the business depended on her.
Besides, she didn’t have insurance to pay for a doctor’s visit or treatment anyway. As a very small business, Zoe didn’t offer insurance. Prior to Zoe owning Buttered Up, it hadn’t been an issue. Zoe’s grandma and then her mom had run the bakery, and they’d been covered on their husband’s plans. Zoe was covered on her dad’s plan, and once she and Aiden were married, he’d cover her. Josie had been on her dad’s insurance up until about two months ago when he’d been reduced to part time. It was good for him. His job at the egg factory was hard on him physically and cutting back helped immensely. But financially it was going to be tough until her mom could find something.
And that left Josie without insurance coverage.
She hadn’t told Zoe. It would make her friend feel bad and maybe even cause her to panic buy something to cover Josie that would cost far more than it needed to.
Aiden was a millionaire and could just buy a policy probably, but neither he nor Zoe wanted that. Buttered Up was her business, her legacy, and she wanted to do this herself. Aiden respected that and didn’t expect to become a partner. And a guy couldn’t go around just writing million-dollar checks to his girlfriend’s business without some legal considerations.
So he was helping Zoe get policies and things caught up at Buttered Up. The fact that they didn’t have things like employee benefits bothered him a lot. But it was taking a little time, and they both had a lot going on. So Josie just wanted to give them a chance to get it all straightened out. She could deal with her tendonitis until it all got figured out.
But as she pulled the heavy ceramic canister from its spot on the shelf, the pain grabbed and she gasped.
It was either the surprise of it or the actual nerve suddenly refusing to fire, but her grip loosened and the canister slipped. The ceramic jar hit the hard linoleum with a loud crash.
Everyone in the bakery jumped and