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SHORT
STORIES
Food for Thought...(continued)
"Where?" mumbled Mrs Jackson from the depths of her thick café-quality teacup.
"Where you said. The Hot Bread Shop. Counter person." I shrugged. "I start tomorrow, six in the morning."
Chelle grinned. "John'll have a cow at the thought of you being around food all day. Oh wait! John who?" She snorted, swallowing her chuckle. "You go girl!"
I went. Five to six next morning I was waiting outside the front door of the Hungry Hound Hot Bread Shop like a starving puppy skulking by the kitchen bench.
I knocked.
Nothing happened.
I knocked again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
I was about to knock a third time when he simply materialized behind the glass door; a lightly toasted, chocolate-eyed Mr Universe, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short under a snowy baker's hat, his tee-shirt sculpted marzipan icing over rippling muscle. Faded blue jeans and running shoes completed the picture. Well, almost. A black-and-white-checked apron wrapped around his waist like a lover.
I didn't blame it one little bit.
"Hi," he said, with a grin. "New girl, right?"
I nodded. His voice sounded as tasty as the rest of him looked; deep, calm, as comforting as hot apple pie on a cold night. Oh boy. Roll on winter.
"Gina, isn't it?"
I nodded again.
"I'm Logan." The grin widened and his teeth flashed white in the tanned face. "You do talk, don't you?"
I swallowed. "Of course I do." Although for a second there...
"Good." Those luscious milk-chocolate eyes gleamed and he gestured me into the shop. "No point in a counter assistant who can't talk, is there?"
Get a grip, you fool, I told myself, and walked in. "Guess not."
Logan closed and locked the door behind me. "My sister says you used to be a teacher," he said.
I nodded.
"Me too." His smile deepened. "This is different, but I love it. The food, the people. Gotta love what you do if you want to be happy, right?"
"Yes," I said, realizing only in that instant how long it'd been since I really loved what I did. "Yes, you do."
"Well, come on then." He gestured towards the kitchen and the sound of cheerful voices and laughter. "There's a wonderful new life waiting right through those doors."
"A wonderful new life?"
I hadn't realized I'd spoken the words aloud. Not until Logan touched my shoulder.
"It will be," he said, gently. "Trust yourself." His hand dropped back to his side and he flashed that tempting Devil's Food smile again. "Now, follow me," he said, and headed for the kitchen.
Follow him? I studied Logan's muscular and extremely gorgeous back. Oh yeah. No hardship there!
Trust myself? Yup, I could do that too.
A wonderful new life waiting? Maybe.
Perhaps.
It was food for thought.
The End