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We all stood up, and Nich gave me the warmest hug. On top of being the sweetest guy, he was also handsome as hell and smelled good too. Again, I thought, Dana's a lucky girl. We both were. I looked over at Spencer, and he was staring at me like I was a snack and he was hungry. Guess this meant he still wanted me? Who was I to deny either of us what we wanted? Right?
Chapter 8
Dana
There were days in life where I truly wished I could curl up in bed and not emerge. I should have done that today.
“Good god,” I muttered as I shoved another pan of meat and cheese stuffed pastries in the oven. It’s been super crazy busy since we opened at 5:30am. It was so bad that I called in Lacey. The poor kid was an hour late for school already but was refusing to leave me. Honestly, I was okay with that. I’d write her any kind of note she needed and hope her mama didn’t take me out for putting work before school.
Why were we so busy? Oh, well, there were a few reasons. The locals hit as soon as the door was open. A few fishermen came in after that, stocking up for a long trek into the deeper waters. And now we had what felt like an entire school's worth of small kids who had been over at the aquarium and museum who were tired, grumpy, and hungry.
I wiped my hands on my apron before hurrying back to the counter to help Lacey.
“Who is next?”
“Me, pwease. I want this one. It's pretty.”
I leaned over the counter to see a cute little blonde girl pointing her finger at one of the menu pictures. The pepperoni blossom, a strip of pastry layered with pepperoni and cheese that was rolled to resemble a flower. They were delish, if I do say so myself.
“Ah, a blooming pepperoni. Got it. Would you like milk, water, or juice?”
“She’ll have water.” I looked up at a harried woman and raised a brow. “They’ll all have water; they don’t need the sugar.” I shook my head.
“No offense, ma'am, but that isn’t your call. This isn’t the first time we’ve had students here. They’re all more than capable of giving their own drink order.” If you’re overwhelmed, you should have brought more help. I did keep that to myself though. I wanted the return business even if it made this place a madhouse.
The little girl looked between us and smiled. “Milk, pwease. The white one.”
I laughed softly and nodded. “Coming right up, princess.” I got her pastry and milk while Lacey rang it up for her.
“That’s $5.42, cutie pie.”
The girl handed her a bill. “Do you have another dollar? I need $0.42 cents.”
Her little face fell as I set both the pastry in a bag and the milk down. I watched as she dug in her little purse and pulled out a quarter. “That’s all that's left.”
“You shouldn’t have spent so much buying souvenirs.” The teacher sighed, grumbling. “You’ll have to get something else that you can afford.”
Look, I got teachers were overworked, underpaid, and all of that, but to be a twat—yeah, I said that—to a hungry kid. The fires of hell themself were running through me right now. I turned to Lacey. “Count it as good and let’s get to the next kiddo. And if it happens again, just make a note on the receipts Okay?”
“Sure thing.” Her smile reassured me that I was doing the right thing. At their age—I was guessing they were between six and nine—they had no idea what money management was.
“You—”
“Friendly piece of advice, teach, just because you’re frustrated doesn’t mean you can take that out on innocent kids. Now, please, you let me run my business, and I will leave you to the kids. Yeah? Good chat.”
I walked back to grab the tray of pigs in a blanket from the oven when it started to beep at me. Ten minutes later and we had our first problem of the day. I had a little man that needed gluten-free, I had that, but what I had also had cheese in it and the poor kid was dairy-free.
“We have some pretzel twists left. They’re gluten-free and only have salt on them,” Lacey offered.
“I like pretzels.”
“Okay, let’s get you a few of them. I have a pan of gluten-free butter buns in the oven, but it’ll be about,” I looked at my watch, “six minutes or so before they come out.”
“Pretzels are fine, ma’am, really."
“You need more than pretzels.” The teacher was back. Lord help me not whack this lady with a magazine.
“It’s fine. Really. Mom won’t mind this time.”
