Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Over supper, we caught up on each other’s lives. Ethan got the bid on the rich people’s unique Hamptons home as anticipated and the couple in question liked his ideas so much that they increased the budget. He was having a blast working out the details. I had a final pitch coming up for partnership. Madison would be glad if she never had to bake another sausage roll.
“I love that the neighborhood was glad to have the shop back open, and I’m happy to have the business, but the holiday catering thing is killing me. If it weren’t for Lillian, I’d be in the hospital somewhere on an involuntary 72-hour psych hold by now.”
“Lillian’s the new girl, right?” I said.
“She’s more of an angel than just a new girl,” Madison said, “She’s so much help I can’t do without her. She made little origami stars in magenta and pale green, and they’re lined up on the top of the display case. She’s got them on the windowsill and strung some in the front window on fishing line. So, it looks festive even though I haven't had a chance to decorate for the holidays with all the electrical and oven problems. I should probably run to a dollar store and toss some ornaments in a bowl or something, but this is so much homier.”
“Origami?” I said, my mouth going dry.
“They are so pretty. She tried to show me, but she goes so fast it’s like magic,” Madison said.
“Tell me what she looks like,” I said, suspicious.
“She looks like a person, okay? She’s my friend,” she bristled, defensive.
“Then just tell me what she looks like or show me a picture.”
“I don’t have a picture of her, and I’m not going to snoop her socials to get one for you because you’re acting weird and overprotective. I get that you’re stressed out, but I don’t like the way this is going.”
“Sorry,” I said, “the origami thing is a red flag for me. Because Olivia was into origami, or she had been in the past. She had a bunch of birds and stars and crap on her windowsills.”
“There’s more than one person in the city that does origami, Noah,” she said with a half-smile, “I’m fine. I may even go take an extra shower. I swear even if I wash my hair, it still smells like meat!” she grumbled.
I leaned over and kissed her head. “Yeah, sausage, a hundred percent,” I said. “Nothing sexier on Earth.” She rolled her eyes.
“If the sausage bothers you that much, why do you have it on the menu?” Ethan said. Madison walked over to the table where he sat and joined him.
“It’s the most popular. But with any luck, I can train Lillian to make the sausage filling tomorrow. She’s not a natural at pastry but neither was I. Lamination is tricky. If the butter isn’t completely frozen, it’s a mess. Anyway, I’ve got Marco where he can do the eggplant filling which is really chopping intensive and tedious. Takes forever.”
“I hope you charge more for the tedious one,” Ethan said.
“No, it doesn’t have meat—the ingredients are cheaper. So I charge less per dozen.”
“Labor costs,” I said, joining them, “If the eggplant takes that much longer, mark them up.”
“You’re probably right,” she sighed. “But I priced all my platters already in the newsletter.”
“All it takes is a quick note that, due to pricing increases for quality ingredients and the prep time required for each handmade pie, the updated price list is as follows,” I offered.
“Oh! I like that. Say that again slowly so I can put it in my Notes app and type it up later,” she said. I repeated it for her and gave a sigh I couldn’t hold back.
“Interviews with the board stressing you out or is it the psycho ex?” Leo said.
“All of it, I guess. I’m fine. I’m okay,” I said.
“You don’t have to say you’re fine. Do you remember my appendix? I kept going, no I’m fine, quit fussing about it, I said I’m fine! Next thing I know, my macho ass is whimpering for pain meds in the ER and saying I don’t want to die.”
“I was there, man,” I said, “You scared the hell out of me. You’re never allowed to get sick again.”
“I should’ve said, hey, maybe this isn’t because I had chili last night—maybe the pain that feels like a flaming poker jammed in my side is a bad appendix.”
“That’s specific,” I said, “But I’m pretty sure I don’t need to go to the ER. I’m having a hard time concentrating at work or on anything really. I think I brushed my teeth five times yesterday because I kept forgetting if I’d brushed them or not,” I admitted.
“Bright side, your teeth will look amazing,” Leo said, “You can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”