Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I look to the windows, then to the phone, grabbing it as I set the dishes down and run to the door.
I open it and peer out. “Sir?”
I look both directions, but all I see are diners sitting outside to my right, at Rivertown Grill, and some cars driving by. He’s gone.
I lock the door again and inspect the phone, finally noticing how old it is. The gritty texture leaves patches of black on my hand, and I bring it to my nose, noticing the scent of fire. I flip it open, pressing buttons, but it’s dead. No one uses these anymore. What a strange thing to even carry.
I shrug. He’ll come back for it.
Swiping up the dishes again, I walk into the kitchen, set the phone on the counter, and place everything in the sink. I turn and move all the remaining pastries from a tray to a box.
But no sooner have I started than Dylan comes bursting through the swinging door, from the front of the shop.
I jump as she rushes me. “No, no, no!” she cries, running for the chocolate coconut donuts. “I need them!”
Hunter laughs, trailing in behind her, followed by Hawke and Aro, Hawke’s girlfriend.
Dylan barrels into me, and we take turns shoving each other with our hips for supremacy over the remaining baked goods.
I snatch one out of her hand before she takes a bite. “No, you need to take them to the senior center and help me out.”
I’m doing a test run for the summer to see if I can be a bakery and do some light fare for lunch too. Sandwiches, flatbread pizzas, soups….
I’m staying open way too late, though, and trying to be back here at three-thirty in the morning to bake is making it difficult to find time for exercise, my family, or any kind of sleep.
If I don’t get into a groove with my business soon, this trial will be a fail. I thought going to business school would teach me more practical applications, but I’m still struggling on time management. I learned marketing and accounting, and I’ve easily mastered things like strategy, taxes, and communication. But leadership? It would’ve been better for me to apprentice before jumping into my own bakery. Jared would tell me that real work experience trumps schooling every time. I don’t believe that, exactly, but I’d be better off if I’d slowed down.
Hunter stands on the other side of the counter, plucking a donut off the tray and handing it to his girlfriend. “We’ll take them,” he tells me, kissing Dylan on the temple.
“How’d you guys get in?” I look around at them. “I locked the front door.”
Aro won’t meet my eyes, Hunter gives me a tight smile, and Dylan leans her elbows on the counter, shrugging. “No, you didn’t.”
I cock an eyebrow as Hawke snorts, pulling a chocolate milk out of the fridge.
Hunter glances to him. “It’s time to tell her, man.”
“We’ll tell her when she’s ready to use it,” Hawke replies as if I’m not here.
Dylan stuffs her mouth with the pastry as she looks up at me with glee.
I point my finger around the room. “You know I’m older than all of you, right?”
They all laugh.
They’ve been hinting about something for a while now. I know there’s some urban legend they’re researching, and I know they’re in here after closing hours and off-season too. I gave them all keys because I might’ve needed any one of them to have access, in case a pipe burst while I was away at school, or if they were in need of extra space for holiday cooking.
But something is going on, and the only reason I don’t press harder about it is because I don’t want to know. If I know, then I’ll feel like I have to be the responsible one, because I’m the oldest. I’d rather not ruin their good time.
I shouldn’t feel like that, but I know I’m not fun. I’m the inexperienced one compared to them, and it sucks. I’ve got a college degree. My own business. I’m disciplined, punctual, and a taxpayer. Why do I feel younger than them?
“Come on, we’ve gotta get back.” Hunter dusts off his hands. “Lights out in thirty minutes.”
They’re all working at Camp Blackhawk, like last summer. They get a couple of hours of free time while the kids have campfire jamboree at night.
I hand Hunter the two boxes to drop off at the senior center. “Where’s Kade?”
“Tending to needs.” Dylan cleans her teeth with her tongue. “Whatever that means.”
“Even I know what that means,” I say as I lead the way to the back door.
Like Dylan, Hunter, and Aro, Kade is nineteen and would prefer to spend his summers doing one thing and one thing only. So suffice it to say, he makes the most out of his two hours of free time before lights out.