Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lucy
I scowled at the laptop screen when I saw my current checking account balance. Not working wasn’t sustainable for me.
If I cashed out my retirement fund, which was my plan, I’d be able to start fresh. Still, it wasn’t a ton of money, and I hated the thought of spending every dollar I had to my name.
Sawyer was out on his run, and it was the perfect time to go check out the only idea I had for a part-time job—Morelli Brothers. There was a Help Wanted sign in their window, and I couldn’t imagine better people to work for.
Leaving here was going to be hard, and I was more undecided about it than ever because things were going so well with Kon. Sawyer was doing great, too, and being roommates had turned out to be a good fit for us.
I grabbed the keys to Sawyer’s SUV and my bag, checking to make sure the cards were in there. It was nearly impossible to find the right gift for people who had put their lives on the line for you, but I’d gotten each of them a gift card to a local Italian restaurant. It wasn’t much, but the gifts and the heartfelt thanks I’d written in each card were better than just saying thank you.
Before I opened the garage door, I locked myself in the car and took my new pepper spray from my bag and put it within arm’s reach. Leaving the house alone was risky, but I refused to let Nate make me into a terrified prisoner.
After a deep breath to ground myself, I opened the garage door and backed out. I could do this. I’d park close to the door and ninja my way in there, pepper spray in hand.
Or something. I’d spent a lot of money on holiday gifts—at least a lot for me—and I couldn’t just sit at home like a damsel in distress as my bank account dwindled.
The Morellis had started selling holiday baked goods yesterday morning, and I was hoping they’d be extra busy and hire me instantly because they were desperate for extra help. My jaw dropped as I passed the bakery entrance and saw a line that went out the door and halfway down the block.
Holy shit. I usually got here early in the morning, normally before seven, but today it was closer to nine. I didn’t know if the crowd was due to the later hour or the holiday items, but I was happy for my friends.
Parking in front of the store was impossible, so I parked a block over, got my pepper spray in hand, and ran to the front door.
“Hey, there’s a line!” a woman snapped at me.
“Oh, I’m…” I considered what to say without pissing anyone off. “Not a customer.”
At least, I didn’t feel like one anymore. Not only had the Morellis saved my life, they’d also become very special to me. I looked forward to my visits to the bakery when I got to talk to them, and I felt like I was getting to know each of them.
I worked my way through the crowd and went to the front counter, catching Luigi’s attention.
“Lucy!” he cried as he swiped a customer’s debit card. “How are you?”
“Doing great.” I slid out of my coat. “I came to ask about your help wanted sign in the window.”
His whole face lit up and he pointed at me. “You? You want to work here?”
I nodded. “If you need me, I’m in.”
“Lucy, you’re an angel! Can you start this very second?”
Shrugging, I said, “Sure.”
“Go wash up in back and find Mario. He’ll put you to work.”
I had a job! And it involved baking, which was something I loved. But I didn’t have time to celebrate the moment. As soon as I’d dropped my coat and bag in the office and washed my hands, Mario greeted me and showed me how to bake bread. I had a huge spatula thing that I moved the loaves in and out of the ovens with, and once they’d cooled, I put them in bags and wrapped each bag with a foil twist tie.
“Lucy, welcome to the family!” Maria said, looking up from her station, where she was decorating cookies.
“Thanks, I’m so happy to be here.”
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Good.”
“Have they caught the guy who attacked you?”
I shook my head. There was no hope of that, but I didn’t mention it to her.
“Don’t you walk out of here alone,” she said, pointing at me. “One of us will walk you to your car later.”
It was a touching gesture, but I had no intention of being the cause of Luigi hurting his knee again, or Mario testing the limits of his heart with a sprint. A shot in anyone’s eyes with my pepper spray would give me enough time to get away.