Page 14 of Cupcake of the Month
A laugh came from behind him and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Oh, that’s a good one, Lukasik.” George shook his head with a conspiratorial glance at Jordan. “You as a manager.”
Josh would have gladly stabbed the man with the fish’s forked tail.
“Tell you what, Mr. Manager,” George snorted. “I’ll finish up here. There’s grease leaking around the trap in the cutting room. Go check the lid and clean up the mess, then empty the trash.”
Josh let out a slow breath, stepping away to go to the back room instead of punching the guy in the face. Five more years. Then he could tell George to go fuck himself.
“Boy, it’s so hard to get good help these days.” George said. “If I don’t tell him what to do every step of the way, it’s sure to be done wrong.”
“The only way to do something right is to do it yourself,” Jordan intoned.
“That’s for sure.”
Josh bit back a laugh. The manager had missed the sarcasticlilt in Jordan’s sweet voice.
“I’m George,” he said as Josh disappeared into the cutting room. “Can I help you with something today?”
Josh envisioned stuffing his manager into the dumpster in place of the trash and didn’t hang around to see how she answered.
Damn, George hadn’t been kidding when he said the grease trap was leaking. A deluge was more like it. Sludge in stunning shades of brown with flecks of red and black lay in oil and grease on the floor. The rancid smell nearly made him gag.
He found the prybar for the lid, noting immediately that it hadn’t been put on correctly. After he lifted it, a chunk of something unidentifiable plopped back into the trap, sending splatter over Josh’s apron.
He’d never complain about the green cloth again.
After he was done with the trap and the mess, he stuffed a couple of folded garbage bags into his pocket to put in the receptacles once he gathered the trash. Before he passed through the swinging doors, he scanned the area by the counter. George stood there with a customer, but Jordan was nowhere in sight.
He’d take it.
The man’s face was red and blotchy, trying to get the order right. Josh recognized the customer’s face immediately, but the lobster on her hat would have given him a clue anyway. She worked at a local seafood restaurant, and it was always good to make nice with those who could hire you.
“Him!” The woman pointed. “He knows what he’s doing. I want him to help me. I’m asking for salmon and filets, and you keep trying to sell me salmon fillets. I don’t how much clearer I can be. They’re two separate things.”
Josh waited for his manager to do right by the customer and let him take over.
Instead, George’s face turned even redder. “Josh isunavailable at the moment. Give me your order one more time. I’m sure I’ll get it right.”
“That’s okay.” The woman wheeled her cart away from the counter as Josh lifted the trash bag, holding his breath against the odor of mackerel bones, shrimp tails, and onion skin. “I’ll come back later.”
Chapter 3
Jordan opened her bedroom door the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee wafting down the short hallway from the galley kitchen. While the scent wasn’t a normal occurrence for her room in the renovated stables, she had two friends who weren’t above bribery with breakfast meat if they needed something.
If their efforts were an attempt to convince her to take the special events coordinator position, she’d have to let them down. After all they’d done for her over the summer, not taking the job seemed like a betrayal, but her life was in limbo. They needed someone committed.
It would be better to be prepared for the situation before she went out there. She took out her phone to text Sebastien, who rounded out their circle of friends when he wasn’t attending to his royal duties in the small principality his father ruled.
I think I’m about to be ambushed.She threw on her robe while she waited for him to text back.
I know nothing, he wrote.
Not helpful.
He sent back a heart and a smiley face, then,Just get it over with. And fill me in later.
She texted a sticking-out-her-tongue emoji and put down her phone. She padded to the common room, inhaling the delicious aroma as she went. At least she’d be well fed.
Brandi had made herself at home on the rocking chair in the common room, her feet on the small table while she balanced her computer on her lap. A plate of bacon waited on the breakfast bar, begging to be eaten, while the coffee maker hosted a full pot.
