Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
It seems like my first day of work at The Pie Shop is going to go just perfect…until everything goes to shit.
14
SUNNY
Annabelle comes in around noon and Kane and I take a break and eat a quick lunch that Cookie made us. Chef salad with plenty of ranch dressing for me—(he knows it’s my favorite and he’s returning the favor for the honey buns)—and Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes, green beans, and a yeast roll for Kane.
We sit at the tiny table at the very back of the restaurant—the one that has a permanent, “reserved for Staff” sign on it. No matter how busy we get, Cookie keeps that one free for his people. He doesn’t believe in letting us get run off our feet. That’s one reason Annabelle and I have stayed with him so long. He’s grumpy and crusty on the outside, but inside he’s a big softy.
Speaking of Annabelle, her eyes get wide when she sees my brother.
“Pleased to meet you—Sunny’s told me so much about you,” she says, holding out her hand.
Kane shakes and smiles politely.
“The same. You were one of her favorite people to write about.”
“Oh…I was?” Annabelle touches a hand to her blonde hair, done up in a French Twist in the back. She’s my best friend but she’s also kind of a flirt. In fact, I had been thinking that maybe she and Kane might hit it off and go out together.
The idea doesn’t seem to appeal to Kane though. He’s nice and polite but there’s no spark in his pale eyes when he looks at my friend, even though Annabelle is really pretty and way thinner than I am.
Then, just an hour after noon when the lunch rush is starting to slack a little, Charles comes in.
He’s in a brand-new candy-apple red Corvette this time—I see him through the window. His father lets him take whatever car he wants from the lot out for a test drive anytime he feels like it. I thought that was fun when we first started dating, but to be honest, it’s getting kind of old now. I’ve never exactly been a car person—all I care is that a vehicle gets me from point A to point B and it has AC in the summer and heat in the winter. But Charles isn’t like that—he always has to have the flashiest car.
He comes in, swaggering a little, looking around to see who saw him driving past the diner’s front window in the sleek Corvette. He’s dressed in golf slacks and a polo shirt—he must be hitting the links over in Clariton a little later.
Charles doesn’t really do regular work—he acts as a salesman for his dad sometimes but mostly he has enough free time to do what he wants. It must be a nice life—I have to admit I’m a little jealous. Of course, I love my job, but if I had as much time as I wanted, I’d be spending it going to college to earn a business degree so I can open my own bakery some day. That’s my big dream and I haven’t told it to anyone but Kane.
My big brother was supportive of the idea—which I appreciate. I’m afraid that if I tell anyone else, they’ll think I’m just having “pie in the sky” dreams—literally in this case, since I specifically want to open a pie and pastry bakery.
Anyway, I give Charles a peck on the cheek and get him seated at table three. I want to introduce him to Kane—I haven’t even told him that my big brother is in town yet. But Kane’s in the back washing dishes and I figure I can bring him out later. For right now, I ask my boyfriend what he wants for lunch.
“Something light, babe. Gotta watch it, you know?” He pats his stomach, which is fairly flat. As I said, he looks nice naked. But after seeing Kane without his shirt—
No, I can’t think like that. Kane’s my big brother. I put a pin in it and suggest the Chef’s salad.
“I had it for lunch and it was great,” I tell Charles.
He frowns.
“I hope you left off the cheese and used the diet dressing, babe. You’re getting kind of chunky, you know?”
I bite back an annoyed retort. If I get mad at him, he’ll just claim he was kidding. Or he might say he was trying to watch out for my health. But just because I’m curvy doesn’t mean I’m not healthy! I’m on my feet all day baking and waitressing so it’s not like I don’t get any exercise. Besides, I’ve tried dieting—it doesn’t seem to do me any good. I’m just miserable for no reason since the scales never budge. I think I’d rather be curvy and happy.
But I don’t say any of this to Charles—it wouldn’t do any good. Instead I ask him again if he wants the salad and he shakes his head.