Our Star-Crossed Kiss (The Rooftop Crew #4) - Piper Rayne Page 0,13

hopefully it wasn’t all for naught.” She slides out of the booth. “But let’s make the best batch we can so you can really wow them.”

I slide out to follow her. “I already made a few samples.”

She stops before venturing into the kitchen. “Pretty soon you won’t need me.”

I chuckle. “I’ll always need you.”

Her eyes are kind and sweet when she glances over her shoulder at me. I’m reminded that it’s not only me sacrificing something these days.

She takes the containers I already made up out of the fridge and pulls out some plastic spoons. “Did you see the Andrews there by chance?” She pries off the plastic lid, spooning a small taste.

My family doesn’t talk about the Andrews very often and never around my dad.

“I did actually.” I sit on the stool and she looks at me, waiting for me to continue. “Seth and Mrs. Andrews were there.”

“Seth?” She cocks her head. “I didn’t think he was part of the business.”

“I think because of Trevor…”

She nods, lips pressed together. “Makes sense. He’ll have to step up, I suppose.”

Will he? Suddenly, I envision the two of us running our parents’ bagel shops in twenty years, feud still thriving. One or both of us married and the hatred running down to our children. I straighten to get rid of the pang tugging on my heart.

“She asked about you,” I say as she closes the lid on the plain spread and moves to our chive flavor.

“Who did?”

“Debbie. Mrs. Andrews.”

She nods but never makes eye contact with me. “Oh really?” She opens the strawberry flavor next.

“She seemed worried.”

There’s no reaction from her again. I guess that longing I felt from Mrs. Andrews is one-sided.

“We’re fine. Did you tell her that? That we’re fine?”

I nod. “I did.”

“Good.” She closes all the containers and pushes them toward me. “They all taste great. You did a wonderful job. If I didn’t own this place, I’d be worried you were going to take my job away.”

She chuckles and heads to round up the unsold bagels from this morning so she can cut them and bake them into chips.

And we’re back to manager and owner again.

I arrive at the mercantile mart and the place runs like a well-oiled machine. I head to the breakfast area to turn in my items. The blonde woman who introduced me to Nick Klein is in the background, talking to other workers.

“So you’re Bagels ‘R Us?” the man who’s supposed to clearly mark my items says, jotting it down before I correct him.

“No, we’re The Bagel Place,” I say.

He nods as though he knew that. “That’s right, they already dropped off. Sorry. All these bagel places. What’s up with this city?”

He’s right, there are a plethora of bagel places, but where is there not? They’re about as popular as cupcake shops were five years ago. But the good part is The Bagel Place is on top of the list. Unfortunately, Andrews is sitting right next to us on said list. No one can ever pick which one of us is better without saying the same old crap about morphing us together. I mean, get over it, people, it will never be again.

The woman from the lunch station comes over and I’m thankful she’s going to help this poor confused man, but she swipes the pen out of his hand. “Just one second, mine ran out.” She heads back over to her station.

Dan, the man in charge of breakfast, laughs and leans back in his chair as though he’s got all the time in the world. “No problem, Nance,” he says, whereas I want to say get my cream cheese in the fridge ASAP.

Nance (I’m assuming her name is Nancy, but Dan the man can’t be bothered to use the y) talks to the person in front of her, taking down the information on the items they brought in.

“I think she’s done with the pen,” I say politely to Dan, who’s now rolling his head to stretch out his neck.

“I needed a break. You wouldn’t think this work was hard, but you creative types are difficult to deal with.”

I glance at Nance jotting down notes on a separate piece of paper, transcribing what the woman she’s talking to is telling her.

“Are you stalking me or something?” Seth comes over and places his bagels and four cream cheeses on the table.

I huff. “Yeah, because I’m a masochist.”

Dan has his arms above his head now, pulling on his elbows and sighing in relief. He spots Seth