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“Is Hayleigh okay?”
“Yeah.” Sadie sighed. “She is stressed to the max about this wedding, and she keeps getting so busy she forgets to eat. Chef has been trying to stay on top of her schedule, but he’s crazy busy with all the holiday plans.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so busy I forgot to eat. But I’ve never planned a wedding, either.” She’d dreamed of one, with her and Michelle in flowing white dresses, an explosion of colorful flowers everywhere. But even though they’d talked about it some, neither of them had actually popped the question.
“I’ve never forgotten to eat, either, and I have planned a wedding,” Sadie said with a giggle. “Come on, let’s get in the classroom before we’re marked late.”
“Would we get a pink slip if we’re late?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” Linking arms, they strolled into the classroom together. “Tell me, Sadie, what else gets you a pink slip around here?”
Michelle
Poor Hayleigh sniffled quietly the whole walk to the kitchen. It almost made Michelle worry about what her Daddy would do when she got there, but she tried to remind herself that a place like Rawhide Ranch wouldn’t put up with their submissives being abused right under their noses. At least, she hoped not, given the reputation they seemed to have in the community.
When they reached the kitchen doors, Michelle slowed to a stop. “You okay, honey?”
“Yeah.” Hayleigh offered a watery smile. “Thanks for walking with me, you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“I didn’t mind. And between you and me, I think Allie was trying to get rid of me.”
That got her a quiet giggle. “Do you want to come inside and see the kitchens? I think they’re kind of boring, but other people seem to get a kick out of them.”
“Sure.” She didn’t really care about the kitchen; they were all alike as far as she was concerned. But she’d feel better if she got to see Hayleigh’s Daddy’s reaction in person.
Stepping forward, Hayleigh checked through the windows before pushing the doors open and peeking her head inside. “Hi, Daddy.”
The doors swung open more fully, and Michelle stepped inside behind Hayleigh. A tall man in a chef’s coat looked up from the stack of papers he held in his hand, concern immediately etching itself into his features.
“Hayleigh? What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Um, well, I don’t feel good and then I realized I didn’t eat any breakfast so I thought you might have something I can snack on?”
“Hayleigh.” With a heavy sigh, her Daddy put the papers aside and stepped forward, pulling her into his chest. “We’ve talked about this, baby.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I just got caught up in going over the order for the flowers and then it was time to go to class and… I’m sorry.”
“Poor little jellybean. Have a seat at the island and I’ll make you an omelet.” He gave her a nudge toward the line of stools at the island, then froze in place when he spotted Michelle. “Who are you?”
“Daddy, don’t be rude,” Hayleigh admonished with a giggle. “This is Miss Michelle, she walked me here from class. Her Little girl is in the program this week.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Blowing out a breath, he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it slightly mussed. “Thank you for taking care of my Hayleigh.”
“It was my pleasure. She’s a sweetheart.” Satisfied Hayleigh was in good hands, Michelle edged back toward the doors. “I’ll, ah, get going. I heard a rumor about white chocolate scones over in the cafe.”
“You heard right.” Chef finally cracked a smile, further easing Michelle’s worries. “And they’re delicious, if I do say so myself.”
“I can’t wait to try them. Take care, Hayleigh.”
“Bye, Miss Michelle!”
It was strange, having a grown woman call her “Miss,” but she supposed it was par for the course.
Stepping out of the kitchen, she glanced at the stark white tile of the Littles’ Wing. Everything in her wanted to rush back to that classroom, grab Allie, and run. But that was more for her own comfort than Allie’s, and her girl deserved this time to bond with other Littles.
Deliberately turning her back on the hall, she made her way across the wide, expansive lobby to the small cafe. She ordered a peppermint mocha, one of her favorite perks of the Christmas season, and the scone she’d been dreaming about since she’d heard someone talking about it over breakfast.
