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Chapter eleven
Lacey
If anyone asks me how my week was, I might answer with a larger smile on my face than normal. Not many people get to say they were a shining star in an important meeting with their boss or that they had a really nice lunch with their boss or the best one of all;that they fed banana bread to their boss in their boss’s car. That day couldn’t have been any better. I still haven’t forgotten about Mr. Whitmore’s anxiety attack on our way to the meeting, and for some reason I don’t think it’s my place to question it. I’m glad I could help him, but I hope for his sake it’s not something that occurs frequently.
Being with him felt different that day. I got to know more about his family and the way he spoke of his parents and sister was sweet. They all clearly love each other and have a strong relationship. Being an only child and parent-less I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous but also happy for him.
There was definitely some type of tension happening between us, and I wouldn’t even know how to describe it. Suspenseful maybe. After I told Beth all the details, she decided to call it ‘edge of your seat flirting.’ Supposedly it’s flirting that’s just waiting to erupt into something more. I don’t know if I agree with her, but I certainly wouldn’t mind if something else were to happen, which is crazy because I am an employee, and he is the CEO. It’s completely off limits so nothing is going happen. But all of that doesn’t even matter right now because as I sit at my little desk in the back of the bakery, I’m doing our numbers. Things look better but not great. I need to come up with something else to bring in more revenue.
I can hear Beth putting pans in the oven. It must be brownie baking time. I decide it’s now or never to have a conversation with her.
“Hey Beth—when you’re done can you come here for a minute?” I say, casually trying to hide my trepidation. I’m not worried about having the conversation with Beth, I’m worried about not finding a way to make more money.
“Coming Lace. One sec. I just need to give Ashley this new batch of brownies to put up front.”
I hear her wheel out the cooling rack to Ashley and as she makes her way to my office, I can hear her shoes squeak on the linoleum floor. Which reminds me the floor is just one of the many things that need replacing around here. It’s chipped in places and it’s not food service friendly. If I could put in new floors, refresh the paint, get a new deck oven and a proofer we could double our baking. I’m just not sure I can make those numbers work.
“Hey Lace. What’s up?”
“We’re doing okay but not great. I think we need to think about something else we can do to increase revenue. I know you’re doing great with all the marketing stuff, and that has helped. I was thinking of maybe offering a new product. What about artisanal bread? Supply wise it’s cheap to make, but it would be tough with our limited oven space.”
Beth starts to chew on her bottom lip. She does this when she’s thinking, and I know to give her a few seconds to soak in all the information. She starts to nod her head. “I say we try it. Want to do a test batch?”
I appreciate how easy-going Beth is, and with her limited knowledge of baking it’s up to me to figure out what we’re going to do, but luckily, I already have something in mind.
“I have this recipe for a hard crusted parmesan boule that I think would be great. They’re easy to shape and they don’t take too long to proof. I think we have most of the ingredients here already. Let me start a batch and if you like it, I’ll show you the steps.”
“Sounds good Lace. I’m all for the bread idea. You know I love me some carbs.”
The dough comes together quick and with the temperature in the bakery being a million degrees it proofs much faster than it should. Something I’ll need to explain to Beth later. The bake time was just under a half hour, and I’m figuring with our oven space we can fit six loaves in at a time. I take out my test loaf and put it on the rack to cool. Its dark crust looks beautiful and the parmesan infused aroma is making my stomach growl.
I head over to the dish sink when I spot movement to my left. Beth peeks her head through the door then she takes a few steps in the back with her eyes wide like something is wrong. She’s not saying anything, so this can not be good.
I lower my voice to a whisper. “What’s wrong?” I ask completely trying not to freak out.
“Well, um. I was just saying bye to Ashley, when Shane and Mr. Whitmore pulled up. Looks like they’re heading in.”
The way Beth says it makes me frantic. I run back into my office, rip off my apron and smooth my shirt. I check my hair in the tiny mirror on the wall and grab some lip gloss from my bag. I smack my cheeks to get some color because I’m sure right now I look white as a sheet. Beth senses what I’m doing then comes in to do the same. We stop and face each other.
“It’s good. We’re fine. Everything is fine. Why are we acting like this?” I ask Beth as urgency fills my voice.
“Because there’s two very handsome men coming into our store and I’m pretty sure we each like one of them.”
I pause. Beth hasn’t been totally forthcoming with her interactions with Shane. I haven’t pushed it either because she hasn’t pushed asking me about Mr. Whitmore.
I rush my words as any minute we need to be out front to greet them. “Wait, are you telling me you like Shane? Like you’re interested?”
Beth nods. “Lace, not now. Later. We have to go out there.”
We both walk to the front with smiles on our faces. Shane is scouring over the brownie case while Mr. Whitmore is eyeing the fresh cookies sitting on the cooling rack behind me.
“Hi Mr. Whitmore. Shane.” I say, happy my voice doesn’t squeak or crack.
“Hi Lacey. Beth. Shane and I clearly have developed an addiction to cookies and brownies.”
I see Shane turn to Mr. Whitmore. “Jared, speak for yourself. I have always had a chocolate addiction. This isn’t newly developed.”
Everyone laughs at Shane’s comment as I try to wrangle my nerves. My stomach gets fluttery hearing Mr. Whitmore’s first name again. I wonder what his name would sound like if I said it?
