“Prince.” Colt bumps my shoulder, knocking me out of whatever that just was. “You good?”
I clear my throat, dragging my attention away from the counter and the blonder with the blue-tipped hair.
“Yeah,” I nod, shaking it off. “I’m good.”
Chapter four
Guess that makes you lucky, then
Penny
“You could try Neverland.” The lady serving me, whose name I’ve just learned is Rose, thanks to the firefighter crew behind me, wipes her hands on a tea towel as she leans against the counter. “They’re usually looking for extra staff, especially when they’re heading into spring. Bit more evening work, though.”
Evening work.
I nod like that’s a manageable solution for me, even though my stomach dips a fraction at the thought.
“The bar down the road?”
“That’s the one.”
“Right,” I say, nodding again. “Yeah. I can do bar work. I mean, I’ve never actually mixed a proper cocktail, but how hard can it be, right?”
Rose’s mouth twitches, choosing not to comment on that.
“Gwen runs the place,” she adds. “Tell her I sent you.”
“Gwen,” I repeat softly. “Okay. Thank you.”
I glance back down at the cabinet again, at the rows of baked goods sitting there like they haven’t just witnessed a very polite discussion about my dire mixology skills.
“Okay,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. “Decision time.”
Because if I’m going to be unemployed, I might as well be holding something with a lot of calories.
My eyes land on the cinnamon rolls, looking outrageously fluffy and soft and doused in icing. My finger hovers for a second before I commit and point to the largest one.
“I’ll take a cinnamon roll, please.”
There’s movement behind me, a sharp shift of weight and an intake of breath.
“Whoa. Hang on.”
I glance back automatically at the group of firefighters. The tall one with a mustache is leaning in slightly to the side, trying to get a clear view past my shoulder. His brow furrows as he counts.
“How many are left?”
I blink and follow his line of sight again. “Two?”
“Two,” he repeats, stepping closer to the glass. “That’s… Two’s tight.”
“It’s fine,” one of the tallest guys says from behind him.
“It’s notfine,Ghost. This is a fragile situation.”
“They’re pastries, Mason. Not national reserves.”
“They’re limited resources, and soon there’ll only beone.”
