Page 14 of Butter You Up
I swallow my buttered and jammed bread. “Yes please.” I want to gobble up everything I can about my quiet boss, and every tidbit I get just makes me more and more interested. What was Alex like as a gangly pre-teen? I can’t even imagine.
“His grandad gave him a talking to as soon as we realized he was gonna be a big kid. ‘Be careful,’ my Eugene would say, ‘you’re bigger than everyone else. Mind your temper or people will fear you.’”
“He seems pretty successful now. The farm is pretty big, right?”
“Oh yes, let’s see. He’s got just over four hundred milkers—the cows, I mean.” Ethel gives me an excessive rundown of all that Udderly Creamy does. I’ve pieced together quite a bit myself, but Ethel has the inside scoop on everything. I make lots of ‘yeah’ and ‘oh wow’-sounding noises while I eat.
After Ethel’s done with the accounting of Alex’s farm and I’ve eaten my fill, she picks up the breakfast dishes and refuses my offer to help clean up. I hop onto my bike and wave goodbye as I peddle down the road for my first day at the dairy farm.
Instead of slaking my curiosity for Alex Bedd, I fear talking to Ethel has only made it worse.
CHAPTER8
ALEX
“You don’t wantme to train Molly?” Kit asks, grinning at me. It’s Molly’s first day on the job, and we’re in my office while I gather Molly’s paperwork. Between the four of us, we’ve already milked the cows, shoveled the shit, and had breakfast. Kit’s gotten better about waking up on time and also wearing pants, so the mornings have been a lot more enjoyable. “I’m very good at my job,” he continues, practically preening.
“You’ve been doing ‘your job’ for exactly two weeks. And Friday, you screwed up an order and double-charged someone, and I had to come down and fix it for you.”
“I’m better with people.”
So true. “I don’t think Molly needs training to talk to people. She needs to learn the software and how to stock, which is my forte. Plus, you’ll be gone someday and I’m the one who is actually her boss,” I point out. “Despite your efforts otherwise vis-à-vis the HR department.”
That argument conveniently overlooks the fact that Kit has no plans to leave anytime soon, and when he first came to stay with me, it was for “a month or so.” I don’t mind at all; I love having Kit around, and it’s nice to have extra hands around the farm, especially when I can call someone up and have help in less than five minutes, versus calling Jesús and interrupting his family time or Perry and making him drive the thirty-eight minutes it takes for him to commute.
“Fine,” he allows.
I’m a little relieved. Kit can charm the pants of most people, and I don’t want him working that charm on Molly.
Because she’s my employee, and that would make things weird.
Minutes later, I walk down the driveway to the farm shop. Since I’ll be there for a while, I leave Trixie up at the calf hutches with Kit and Perry while they work on minor maintenance tasks. I arrive at 8:55 A.M. to find Molly already here, her bike leaning against the back of the shop while she waits by the door, fiddling on her phone. She smiles when she sees me and salutes. “Hey, boss.”
She’s wearing jean shorts and a flowy top with no sleeves, and I suspect she’ll be cold today since, unlike the barn, the shop stays pretty cool with the air conditioner running.
Now that I’ve seen her van, which made me feel like a giant, I can’t help but think of her as pocket-sized. The shorts sure do make her legs look long, though. Long and strong, with tanned and freckled thighs.
I snap my gaze away from her bare skin and unlock the door. I hope Molly is a quick learner, so I don’t have to stay here in this little room with her all day.
Molly bounces in behind me. “No Trixie today?”
“No.” I step behind the counter and wiggle the mouse. An abandoned solitaire game comes up, and I swallow back a sigh. Kit plays games because he’s bored as fuck back here. However, I don’t want to set a precedent with Molly. “No games when customers are in the shop. I know it gets slow sometimes, but if you see someone coming in, don’t look bored.”
“Got it. Can I read a book if I’m alone?”
“Sure.” I show Molly how to log in and how to make sure the POS is working. I’m running over the merchandise when our first customer pulls into the small parking lot out front. Molly follows me back to the counter. I can feel her standing behind me as we watch two people get out of the car and look around before entering.
The first woman, a curvy brunette, smiles at me, and then her eyes flit about the space. The second woman, shorter and with a side cut who had her hand on the first’s back when they entered, meets my eyes, and I give her a chin dip as a greeting.
I once went to a Hibachi restaurant in Albany where the staff shouted “irasshaimase!” any time someone walked in. It was the most uncomfortable dining experience of my life. There is no need to force friendliness, in my opinion.
Behind me, Molly leans on the counter. I return to our lesson in the merchandise, but quietly.
The women grab a dozen eggs and pay. I’m showing Molly how to ring them up when she smiles at them. “It’s my first day,” she explains. “He’s training me.”
“Fun job,” the shorter woman says, and I tense at the sarcasm.
Molly doesn’t notice it. “I know, right?” I’ve known her less than a week, and I can tell without looking that she’s smiling. “It’s really beautiful out here, and Alex promised me I could pet a cow later. Plus, I get to take home fresh milk and eggs, and let me tell you, those eggs will blow your mind. Have you ever had farm-fresh eggs?”
