Page 8 of When You Were Mine

Normally, she wouldn’t even consider leaving town during an opening, but she had to get used to dividing holidays. They’d spend the next three days in California with his daughter and grandkids, and then be back to Calamity in time for Christmas with her family.

A loud shout had her bolting out of her office to witness a server dropping two platters of pastries. All activity in the kitchen stopped as everyone watched shards of porcelain skitter across the floor amid splats of cream and dollops of ganache.

“That’s it.” Chef’s deep, commanding voice bellowed. “You’re fired.” He pointed to the door. “Get out of my kitchen.”

Jessica was on the move, stepping between the great bear of a man and the petite server.

While she understood his anger—there was no time to make new batches of gourmet French pastries—firing someone in the middle of service wouldn’t solve the problem. So, she yanked the van’s keys off the hook by the back door and handed them to the young woman. “Go into town and buy every pastry you can from Harley Lu Emporium. Then, drive to Wild Wolff Village and clear out the shelves of the Singing Baker. I’ll call them both right now and let them know you’re on your way.”

The server nodded, cutting a glance at the chef.

“And don’t stop for coffee,” he shouted. “Don’t text your mommy about what a piece of shit your boss is. Get the pastries and come back here.” He glanced at the clock. “You’ve got thirty minutes before you tank the opening of this resort.”

“I’m so sorry,” the server whispered to Jessica.

“I know you are.” She gave a comforting smile and touched her arm. “Drive carefully.” Mid-December, the roads were snowy and crowded.

As the server headed out, Chef called, “Thirty minutes.”

Once the door shut behind her, Jessica approached him. “This is your kitchen, but it’s my world. Don’t ever humiliate someone again under this roof. Are we clear?”

The man’s jaw clenched, the muscle popping as he restrained himself. “We can’t keep her. You know that, right?”

“Of course.” The whole point of a soft opening was to work out the kinks with operational and staff issues and get feedback from guests who got to use the facilities for a deeply discounted price. By week three, a server should be able to carry a couple of platters. So, yes, she’d have to go. “But there are ways to handle it and humiliating her in front of everyone is not one I’ll tolerate. After the tea, we’ll pull her aside and deliver the news privately.”

He gave a curt nod. “I’ll check how many pastries we have left.”

But she stopped him. “You take care of dinner. I’ll handle this.” On her way into the walk-in refrigerator, she texted Grace at the Singing Baker Patisserie.

Jessica: Hey, girl. I know it’s a busy week with Christmas only a few days away, but we’re in the middle of the tea and just lost two dozen pastries. What goodies can you sell me? I’ll take everything you’ve got.

She’d run other properties, but this one meant the world to her. From the time she was a kid, she’d dreamed of living in Calamity, Wyoming, and she’d finally made it. She’d begun her journey with the lowest jobs in hospitality, and now, she owned a luxury resort.

Wild.

Of course, the original idea was to own a ranch, but she’d never known what that looked like. Would she and her ex breed horses? Run a B&B? Mostly, they’d imagined running wild on their land. Making love in front of a fire during a blizzard. Cooking together while their babies banged on pots and pans on the kitchen floor.

Damn you, Trevor.

He’d promised her forever, but he’d left and never looked back.

Even though she hadn’t seen him in thirty years, it still hurt.

Isn’t that crazy? That an old wound packs such a punch?

Ah, well. The power of first loves.

In any event, now was not the time to dredge up old memories. She had to text Lulu at the Emporium.

Jessica: Hey, there. Sorry to bother you during the busiest time of year, but we’ve just lost two platters of pastries—right in the middle of the holiday tea! I’d like to buy as much as you can sell.

If she didn’t hear back in fifteen minutes, she’d call them. She didn’t want them ambushed by her server.

Checking the desserts, it looked like they had enough to last them another hour or so. Fingers crossed her friends would be able to fulfill her requests.

This can’t fail.

It just can’t.

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