Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 77663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
My family came down to see the bakery that first night when everything was done and fell in love with it. My Dad and brothers walked through the whole building, studying the structure and making sure everything was up to their code. I realized that my family was more relaxed in my presence and thought that was a good sign. They no longer have to walk on eggshells around me to protect my sensitive feelings.
But then my Dad started asking the hard questions. “How are you going to find helpers?”
“I’ve thought about that. I think I’ll try the culinary school in the next town over. I’m sure there are students there who would like a job. The only problem is I don’t want to share Grandma’s recipes with anyone, so I’m trying to figure out a way around that.”
“Evelyn already had an NDA drawn up, but I don’t trust those things. I think what I’ll do for now is keep each department separate. I’ll still be doing the premix myself, so no one ever has to know that, so it should be okay.”
I was still getting anxiety over that one. Every other story I read about opening a bakery was about recipes being stolen for commercial use. I guess I’ll have to get used to it. I plan on starting off by myself in that beautiful kitchen, though, so I won’t worry too much about it. Plus, who knows if I’ll be bombarded with orders?
I was bombarded with orders. The way Amanda’s Sweets is set up, there’s a row of showcases in the front along with waiting chairs, a television, and other amenities for patrons, as well as a cash register. There’s a catering menu available to take home with you, along with all the information you would need. Then, there was a computer for taking online orders that I thought would take at least a day to pick up.
Luckily, I had worked like a dog the week before opening and had plenty to go around, but I wouldn’t have anything for the next day, nor would I have anything to fulfill the online orders. I was both excited and terrified. When Evelyn said she was going to spread the word, I imagined a handful of high-society women coming through the door within an hour of each other.
Instead, it looked like this crazy woman had informed the whole city. She was out there on the sidewalk, schmoozing with the people waiting in line; Mom and Dad were helping out at the counter while I headed to the back to start prepping more cupcakes and cookies as my siblings pulled things from the ovens. Thankfully, no one had ordered a full-size cake as yet so that was a relief.
I ended up having to look for help much sooner than I had anticipated and had come up with a system that worked for me. Since I had no intentions of ever giving up the baking side of the business, I would do the premix and have the others take care of mixing the different flavors. I’m also thinking about keeping each department separate so that one hand doesn’t know what the other is doing. Can you tell how paranoid I am?
That hard lesson I learned two years ago has given me that as well. My trust seems to have dried up in me that’s why I took so long to agree to Evelyn, and as it turned out, she’d given me the new beginning I’d needed.
I went to the bakery early every morning and dragged my butt home well into the night when the three helpers I’d hired were already long gone. I was happier than I’d ever been before in my life, though my body ached in strange places.
I was out front waiting for any last-minute customers since it was ten minutes to closing time, and each night so far, someone had come in at the last minute. Thankfully, with the help, I was able to stay a little bit ahead, especially since most people seem to have decided on their favorites already, so I have some idea of a head count for the different flavors.
I had just turned my back to the door when I heard the voice behind me. It sent shockwaves down my spine. “Listen, you little pain in the ass; I asked you which flavor like ten times already.” He looked up and noticed me before holding up a finger for me to wait.
Oh my! Oh, my ever-loving…. Sweet Baby…. HooYah. I need a minute. I didn’t know I had a weakness before. I was with the same guy since I was about twelve or thirteen. I have a weakness, and that weakness is bike gear-wearing, tattooed muscle men with salt and pepper hair cut very low, and a voice that vibrated through my very core.