Page 42 of One More Yule Log
“I’m on it.” She headed out front to sell some sugary cheer, and he got back to work, forming the pops so they could set before pulling out bases to crumb coat for the Whoville cake.
A baker’s work was never done at the holidays.
At least it wasn’t a Yule log.
* * *
“Ben? We need to talk.”
He sighed silently and rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have answered the phone, especially when Dale’s partner’s name popped up. “What’s up, Jack?”
“I know you’re working from home, but we have a problem.” Jack sounded harried, which was a little unusual. He usually sounded cool as a cucumber.
“Oh?” He really didn’t care. The more he was home with Liv, the more he remembered how much he loved this. He wanted to be home, taking care of things and being a dad.
“Yeah. Jeanine quit.”
Boom. Jeanine was a major admin, planning most of their corporate events.
“She what? Why? What happened?” Goddamn it. And of course, they were going to ask him to fix it. That had been his job when Dale was alive.
“I don’t know. She cleaned her office out last night and handed in notice today at HR. I asked around, but no one will admit to knowing anything.”
“I’ll try calling her. I need anything she had on catering and all.”
“She had the Christmas party for the customers. She said something about the Caribou Club.”
Yay. Fancy.
“Okay, I’ll call them and see if they have anything on record. So this is the staff party?” That gave him a few more days at least.
“This is the client party. We decided to give bonuses this year rather than a big staff party, remember?” Jack was getting frustrated with him. He could tell.
“Look, you just send me an email about what I need to do. I’ll call Jeanine on her cell and see what the heck is going on.” Jack had little patience for niceties, and Ben wasn’t going to be snapped at.
“Will do. Are you coming into the office?”
“Nope.” They were having family night with Gray, and Liv was in the sunroom painting a picture.
“Ben.”
“No. I have plans. You get me that email. Bye.” Damn it all. He dialed Jeanine’s cell, hoping she would answer him.
“Hey. I don’t want to fight.”
He chuckled softly. “Fair enough, lady. Me either. What happened?”
“To be honest? I’m not cut out for this, Ben. I was crying to my husband at three yesterday afternoon when that damned club called and said they’d double-booked and we lost the bidding war, and the only one who ever cared was you, and no one would even call me back about what to do, and my hubs told me to quit. Just quit, and I could go back to transcription.”
“Oh, darlin’…” Oh, that sucked hairy monkey balls. “How can I help?”
“Can I use you as a reference? HR would just say I wasn’t eligible for rehire. I can send you everything I have on the party, like the client list and RSVP status. The club and caterer came together, and that’s out the window.”
“No problem. If you can get me all that, I’ll get on it. You just send any reference folks my way.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead, his head beginning to throb and pound. “We should have lunch after Christmas, hmm?”
“I would love that, Ben. I’m sorry. You know I adore you, and Jack is a good man, but the company is just getting too big for me.”
Yeah, him too. “No worries. Just get me that info, please?”
