LITMIR.BIZ

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compared to how much we make on average.”

      Melissa pointed out another checklist, rattled off some more information about stock and overages, words spilling out of her mouth faster than oil out of a busted hydraulic hose.

      “Hey, Miss Sweeney,” he said, holding up his hand to stem the verbal flow. “You’re throwing too much at me too quick. Why don’t we take this one step at a time? Let me learn as I go.”

      “Okay,” she said, her gaze flicking away from his. “I’m usually in the back so I’m available.”

      “Good. Then I’ll start with memorizing the price list.”

      Melissa nodded, then, avoiding his eyes, walked to the supply room just off the front of the bakery.

      Brian blew out a sigh as he looked around the front of the bakery. Well, this was it. His new job. And from the way Melissa was acting, it was as if she wasn’t too impressed with having him as an employee either.

      As Miss Coraline said, God moves in mysterious ways.

      “One other thing I need from you,” Melissa was saying as she came out of her office carrying a bag. “You’ll have to wear this.”

      Brian opened the bag, pulled out an apron with broad pink-and-white stripes, then stared at Melissa in dismay. “Seriously?”

      “Seriously.” Melissa gave him another pinched-lip look and he stifled yet another flicker of humiliation.

      “Looks too small,” he said, grimacing as he held it up.

      “I had ordered a couple extra because I had assumed if I hired someone I would be hiring...” She paused, shrugged.

      “Another woman,” he finished for her. He blew out a sigh and slipped the top loop of the apron over his head. The bottom of the apron, instead of coming to his knees like hers did, hit him midthigh. Well, his indignity was complete. God was definitely trying to teach him humility.

      It’s for Grandpa.

      “I can order another one.”

      “No. I’m good.” As he knotted the ties at the back he couldn’t help think of the phrase “tied to a woman’s apron strings.” That was him. “So, what do you want me to start with?”

      “You could start with them,” Melissa said as the door of the bakery opened and two men came inside. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

      He held her gaze for a heartbeat, then turned to his first customers of the day. His heart sunk as Don Mankowski and his ever-present friend, Jake Fry, stood in front of him.

      Don was almost as tall as Brian but heavier. He wore tight T-shirts in all weather to show off the muscles he worked diligently to maintain. His short cropped black hair made him look tougher than he really was, but Don was all about presentation.

      Jake was shorter than Don, not as heavily built, blonde where Don was dark and not as full of swagger and self-importance. A decent guy but too attached to his sneering buddy.

      Jake and Don had played football with Brian in high school and had also worked at the factory, albeit under him.

      Don elbowed Jake as he tilted his rounded chin toward Brian. “Well, look who’s serving up pastries. Our old boss, Mr. Montclair.”

      Jake gave Brian a lopsided grin. “Hey, Brian. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

      Didn’t expect to be here, Brian wanted to say.

      “So, this is your new job,” Don said with a smirk. “Suits you. All this sweet and fancy stuff.”

      “What can I get you guys?” he asked, tamping down his own humiliation.

      Don pulled a face as he looked around the display cases, then the bread racks. “You out of doughnuts already?” He shook his head, tut-tutting. “You snoozing standing up?”

      Brian recognized the comment as a jab he gave Don from time to time when Brian found him slacking off. His back stiffened but he knew he couldn’t let this guy get to him.

      “I doubt that. Melissa said we were well stocked.” But he walked behind the display cases to make sure.

      Don was right. They were out of doughnuts. Great, his first minute on the job and he had already messed up.

      “I’ll be back,” he said.

      Melissa was cracking eggs into a large mixing bowl on a stand.

      “We’re out of doughnuts,” he said, unable to keep his annoyance with Don out of his voice.

      Melissa brushed some dough off her chin with her shoulder, then frowned at him. “We’re not out of doughnuts because I don’t make them.”

      “What? Really?”

      “No. I thought I would try a different direction with the bakery.” She hit a switch and the huge paddle of the mixing bowl started spinning around.

      Brian could only stare at her. “Everyone expects doughnuts at a bakery. That’s not a good direction.”

      Melissa’s expression darkened. “I think I know best what I’m trying to accomplish in my own bakery.”

      Now she was getting all uppity with him. One of those “her way or the highway” bosses. He’d worked under a couple of them in the factory.

      He also knew sometimes you just needed to push.

      “I’m sure you do, but the other bakery we had here always had doughnuts.”

      “And where is that bakery now?” Not hard to hear the chill in her voice as she turned the mixer off.

      Brian just stared at her, then spun around and walked away. “No doughnuts today,” he said to Don. “But I got some amazing ‘petty fours’ you could try.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

      “Nah. I prefer something I can bite into. Guess you don’t get our business today,” Don said, tossing off a wave. “Don’t get your apron dirty.”

      Brian drew in a slow breath as he watched them leave. Just fantastic. Now it would be all over town. Brian Montclair wore an apron. A pink-and-white-striped apron.

      Awesome.

      But now it was quiet in the bakery and he needed to do something. He walked over to the wooden shelves and straightened the loaves of bread. Once he was done with that, he glanced down at the floor, noticing the crumbs there. Guess Melissa and Amanda were too busy baking to clean up. He strode to the back of the bakery, looking for cleaning supplies.

      Melissa was dividing some of the mixture she had made over a set of four baking pans sitting on a scale. “Something I can help you with?” she asked as she looked up from what she was doing.

      “Nope,” he replied, still fuming at Don’s “lady boss” comment and Melissa’s previous attitude to his suggestions.

      He grabbed a broom and dustpan from the cleaning supply room and walked past Melissa without a glance her way.

      He swept the floor in the front, again taking out his frustration with a broom. What kind of bakery doesn’t carry doughnuts? City girl and her fancy cakes and pastries that cost too much. Not so good for business in a town where people were struggling to get by.

      He made short work of cleaning the floor, then strode to the back again, returned the broom and came back with a spray bottle of window cleaner. He wiped down the front of the display cases, surprised at how many fingermarks were on it. Wasn’t Amanda supposed to take care of this?

      Guess it was his job now.

      The rest of the day went by with fits and starts of work. Some people came in to simply look, a few more to buy. He wasn’t terribly busy, but he wasn’t too bored.

      But as he worked he was far too aware of the woman fussing away in the

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