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“Then I’m good to go. My peanut butter filling is no bake. It’s like a peanut butter mousse with chocolate chips in it. Once the crust is baked and cooled, I’ll put that in and it has to set for a few hours. I can get the dough going first and in the oven. Then start on the filling and get that in the fridge. Blondies are fast and easy. I can do that once the other stuff is done.”

She was rolling her sleeves up and wanting to get ready to work. “Why don’t you go change your shirt and grab an extra chef jacket hanging up. I’d give you one of mine, but you’d be swimming in it. Let’s get these desserts done first, and if it rolls past opening, once you’re done, we’ll bring you up front. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” she said. She started to do a little fist pump and then pulled it back.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You’re excited. I like to see that. Much more excited than the thought of just working the front of the restaurant.”

“I’m happy to be working in general,” she said. “But doing this…I need it in my life right now. You won’t be sorry. I know you won’t. I’m good at what I do.”

“That’s the confidence I like to see in my staff,” he said. “Let’s get to work and then we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”


Hit Of Success

Hadley was floating on cloud nine when she got home at seven thirty.

She would have worked until close, but Duke told her it was slow enough and that more than half her desserts had sold. More than his cake. She could tell he was almost surprised by that but not her.

Nope. She was out to prove something and she needed that hit of success in her mind.

More so when he asked her to come back tomorrow before opening and do it again. To send him a text later tonight with what she wanted to make. There was enough to start tomorrow off, but he wanted her to make another batch of the blondies and he was thinking that could be a continuous menu item. Then he wanted one more thing.

She was stepping out of the shower after having danced her way to her bedroom where she undressed and grabbed a change of clothes when she heard a knock at the door.

It had to be her parents checking in on her to see how it went.

She ran to the door to see her parents standing there. “Hi. I just got out of the shower.”

“Have you been working all this time?” her mother asked.

“I was,” she said, smiling. “It was great.”

“Really,” her father said. “You never gave us any indication that you wanted to do this as a career.”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not like you think.” She figured maybe she should let them know about the cakes. They’d understand more. It was a simple thing and it might just work out.

She needed something to work out in her life so desperately.

“Then tell us what is it,” her mother said.

“I don’t like the pressure and stress of that stuff. I just want to do my job and go home. Kind of.” She waved her hand. “You know I like to bake. And I did a lot of designing with my job. A few years ago for fun I took a cake decorating class. It was awesome.”

“Good for you,” her mother said. “We know how much you enjoy that hobby.”

“That’s right. It was a hobby. But then friends started to ask me to make cakes for parties. A coworker needed a wedding cake. Things just started to happen without me trying. It turned into a tiny business. I’d have a few cakes a month or so. Nothing major, but it was great spending money and I was giving people a deal.”

“That’s wonderful,” her mother said.

“You were probably undervaluing yourself with your fees,” her father said. “You always do that.”

“I was trying to help people. It’s not like it was a business. Anyway, I cut back when Eddie got hurt, but I missed it. Today, Duke and I were talking. He told me I could start and what I’d be doing. He said to come back at eleven or so, he had to bake.”

“Did you tell him what you are telling us?” her mother asked, her hands in front of her chest all excited.

“I did. I showed him some of the pictures of the work I’ve done.”

“Let me see them,” her mother said.

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