Page 38 of Semi Sweet
My face flushed at her boldness. “I don’t dislike him….”
“Stop, Beth,” Max warned, putting the cake he’d brought out into a box, a larger version of the ones my cupcakes had been delivered in.
“But it’s hard,” she whined back.
“Where is my new employer?” I asked, looking around for him.
“Follow the sound of the terrible techno and you will find him,” Max replied, pointing in the direction of the back room.
I could hear the fast beat of an EDM song in the distance and raised an eyebrow at the pair. Cash Value Market had a syndicated radio that played light hits in all their stores.
“You might like it now,” Beth warned, “but wait until you hear it five hours straight four to five days a week.”
I secured my hat and walked towards the back room. Last time I’d been there, I’d learned the truth about him. Now I watched him work, oblivious to my presence. He moved around the kitchen like he was putting on a performance, cracking eggs and adding ingredients in time with the music playing through a bluetooth speaker. He lifted the bowl to place it on the giant mixer stand when he finally noticed me standing there.
“Good morning,” he said as he started the mixer.
“Apparently I’m checking in with my supervisor?”
He gestured like he was trying to get a crowd to applaud for him before he took a shallow bow. “You’re welcome.”
“How the hell did you manage this? Why the hell are you managing this?”
Sean shrugged as he stopped another mixer, lowered the bowl, and pushed it over to a prep table. He picked it up and dumped a giant pile of dough out. “It’s pretty obvious how Russel feels about you. I figured it would be easy to convince him. I wasn’t wrong.” He placed the bowl on the ground. “As for why...my intentions were mostly pure. Wanted to get you somewhere a little less toxic.”
I found the gesture oddly sweet, almost as much as the cupcakes and the notes. “Mostly pure?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, you're not going to make me say it out loud, are you? We’re at work.”
“What do you need me to do?” I figured he’d have me making up the little white boxes they placed small treats in or manning the register.
“You want to learn how to knead bread?” Sean asked.
“Sure, why not?”
Sean explained that even though the mixer had a hook to knead the dough, he still hand kneaded the smaller balls that would end up being rolled out to make loaves. I watched as he cut the large blob of dough into smaller balls with a square-shaped dough knife before he picked a dough ball up and started smacking it onto the prep table.
“That’s it? That’s all you do?” I asked.
Sean nodded. “Having a bad day? Take it out on the dough.”
He smiled and we both turned when we heard chimes ringing in the distance. Something was done in one of the ovens.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Then he left me with the dough and the techno music.
Six hours later, I’d kneaded, rolled, baked, and packaged three dozen loaves of bread and felt more relaxed than I had in years at Cash Value Market. That was, until a page went through the store’s intercom system.
“Olivia Hale, dial extension five-zero-zero-one, please. Olivia, five-zero-zero-one.”
Evan. He must have learned about my department change. I cringed and picked up the receiver hanging near Sean’s desk, dialing the extension.
“Evan Quittero,” my fiancé stated. His tone made me wary.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
“Olivia, what the hell is going on? Am I having my uncle fire Russel?”
While I would love the sweet, sweet karma, that would be a definite abuse of power. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Yes, I didn’t ask to be moved, but I like it here. Honestly.”
