How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,5
hair, a permanent tan, brown eyes, and an attitude that made her feisty as anyone I’d ever met. She was a genius when it came to being in a kitchen. I took a chance on her right out of culinary school and it paid off. Only now she was so much better than this bakery, but she didn’t want to leave me because I was the one who gave her a shot.
Plus, if she left and I was in charge of the food… yikes.
People drove an hour away to come here to buy something Ember baked.
And her cooking - which I experienced off the clock as a friend - was better than her baking.
“You really shouldn’t smoke,” I said. “I’m not going to stop saying it. It will kill you.”
“So will the sun,” Ember said.
“What? Cancer? You can put on sunscreen. You can’t put a smoke screen on your lungs.”
“Now there’s an invention,” Ember said. “Kind of like taking the pill so you don’t get pregnant, right? Imagine that. You inhale something that protects your lungs so you can smoke as much as you want. Then you can screw and smoke and not get cancer or pregnant.”
“Well, if the chef dream doesn’t work out, there’s your fall back,” I said.
Ember laughed. She dropped her cigarette into a cup of coffee.
It sizzled and died.
She dumped the coffee into the dumpster and we went inside the bakery.
Lucy was another lifesaver for the bakery.
She had been a customer when it was my grandmother’s. And when her husband passed away, my grandmother sent baked goods for free for the service.
When I took the place over, Lucy showed up and demanded to work.
I wasn’t in a position to argue.
In fact, part of me wanted to change the name of the place to Lucy’s.
Meow’s Nose wasn’t the most appetizing name for a bakery.
The way my family told it, my grandmother baked a lot and she had a cat named Meow and that cat would judge her baked goods. If the cat rubbed its nose to a cupcake, cake or whatever, that meant it was good. If the cat sniffed and walked away, that meant it wasn’t good.
So that’s where the name came from.
“Hey, Lucy,” I said, touching her back as I walked by her.
“Hey,” she said. “Uh, Robert called and wants to talk about ordering. I wrote out the checks for the bills that were piling up. We’re good to send them all out.”
“You’re the best,” I said.
“I also called Henry to help with two of the big bulbs. They keep flickering and one made a buzzing sound that was driving me crazy.”
“I hate that sound,” I said. “Hey, are you going to splash a little perfume on your wrists and neck for when he shows up?”
“Stop that talk,” Lucy said. She leaned toward me. “You’re lucky I’m not mad at you for being late.”
“I own the place, I can be as late as I want,” I teased.
“Oh, please. You’re not mean like that. Not at all. Now, if you were that rotten bitch that owns the building… well…”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said. “She’s my friend.”
“Friend?”
“Miranda and I have known each other since college,” I said. “She’s just got a different personality than I do.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said. “You’re not a bitch.” She looked forward at the counter. “Good morning. Sorry about that.”
The customer waiting grinned. “I don’t like bitches either.”
“See?” Lucy asked.
“She doesn’t know who we’re talking about,” I said. “Just take the order. And throw in a muffin for free. Our customers don’t need to hear about our personal problems.”
Lucy and the customer laughed.
I walked through the front of the bakery and just did a quick check on everything.
There were a handful of people sitting down.
Drinking coffee. Enjoying the baked goods.
Earbuds in ears. Laptops open.
And then there was the normal line of people getting their coffees to go.
And then there was the order sheet in the back for the birthday cakes, cupcakes, and all kinds of events and parties.
The bakery looked busy.
And it was busy.
The only issue… busy and profitable were two different words.
And I didn’t want to let the business go.
Even though it was sort of costing me everything I had in life.
The morning rush kept up and that kept me busy.
I had a clipboard on the counter, going through the current orders when I looked up and saw Jon coming into the bakery.
I put my pen down, smiled and waved.
He had his hands in the pockets of his tan, dirty leather jacket.