Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I shot back sarcastically and turned back to the of customers, which seemed to double in the one minute it took to request more product. “Next!”
Olive and Liam stepped up to the counter wearing tired smiles. “The biggest coffee you have, and half a dozen mini cheesecakes.”
“Two of the biggest coffees you have,” Liam clarified. “And three of those beet cookies.”
I rolled my eyes. “The cookies are dusted with beet sugar. And coconut sugar.”
“Yeah, those. I heard good things.” Liam raked a hand over his head and looked around, as if worried someone might hear him order cookies.
“Of course you have, they’re delicious. Where’s the baby?”
Olive let out a small sigh. “At home with her grandpa, so mama can have a tall cup of caffeine and an hour of fresh air and freedom with my honey.”
“Enjoy that,” I told her and poured coffee into two of the largest cups we offered while waiting for the new display goods.
“So, Mara.” Olive tapped on the glass case with a wary smile that didn’t dim under my withering glare. “Have you given any more thought to your matches? They’re just sitting there. Waiting…”
I shook my head and slid the case open when the teenager with the attitude burst through the door with a precarious grip on two trays of my precious desserts. “I haven’t given it one thought since we spoke on the phone. Sorry.”
Olive’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you?”
“No. Well, I’m sorry you wasted your time, but that’s all.” Liam barked out a laugh and shook his head.
“How about I bring the matches to you at home, so you can look through them in a more relaxed setting?”
I sighed while I bagged and boxed the rest of their order. “How about you get busy on finding interested matches for those men?”
Olive stood a little taller with a determined glint in her gaze. “I plan to enjoy this hour of child-free time, but this isn’t over Mara. You will be matched,” she said, the words sounding more like a threat than a promise.
“Thanks for choosing Bread Box!” I flashed a phony smile at the happy couple until they moved on. “Next!”
The rest of the morning and into the afternoon passed in much the manner, with me run off my feet because all of Pilgrim was in need of sugary baked goods. Valentine’s Day was shaping up to be a big holiday for Bread Box, which meant job security for me, but that also translated into endless days of hard work.
Regular customers came in to order coffee and tea, sandwiches and bread while tourists stopped in for the Pilgrim themed treats and wiped out my Valentine’s Day inventory with more than an hour left before the doors closed for the day.
“All I have left are the donuts,” I told Mirabelle Vargas’ disappointed face as the bakery had finally started to clear out.
“Really? I’ll have two. Make it three,” she whispered and leaned in. “I don’t know how you make the strawberry preserves so perfect, but I’d buy it by the jar if you sold it.”
Her words had warmth spreading through me, and I smiled at the compliment. “Thanks for that, but I have neither the time, nor the money or the know-how for anything like that.”
Mirabelle scoffed. “That’s what the internet is for, dear. When in doubt, just ask Google.”
It was a good idea, a better than good idea actually, and I shoved it aside to think about later. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. I’ll ask you about it again in month’s time.” She was a determined woman who didn’t shy away from mothering pretty much every person who came into her orbit, young or old.
I let out a groan when the bells above the door sounded, indicating that I would be working right up until I flipped the sign and locked the door. “How can I help you?”
The good looking man in the brown uniform set the box down and stared at his clipboard before he looked up with professional smile. “I have a delivery for Mara Marie Landon.”
I sucked in a breath at the use of my middle name, because Shannon often got an idea and executed it without talking to me ahead of time. “That’s me,” I sighed and motioned for him to hand me the clipboard. “Do you need to bring your truck around back?”
“Uh, no. This is it.” He picked up the box and set it right in front of the cash register. “Have a nice day.”
“Yeah, thanks. You too.” I stared at the box as if it might bite me or explode, either would be preferable to opening it and finding whatever surprise waited inside.
“Well go on and open it girl.” Mirabelle gestured wildly, curiosity burning in her eyes. “Let’s see what it is.”
“Probably tissue paper with an updated logo or some other idea Shannon had after a few too many glasses of Chardonnay.” The box cutter slid through the tape easily and the flaps popped open to reveal a box I knew well. “What in the hell?” Curiosity got the better of me at the sight of a large box of Sour Patch Kids, and I dug in like an excited kid on Christmas Day, or at least what I thought those kids felt like. The Christmases I did remember didn’t involve gifts, at least not for me.