Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
“ I look forward to it?” Cat’s face screwed up in confusion.
“I know! The nerve of that guy. Like he is accepting a challenge or something. Do we think he is a psychopath?” I asked, taking a sip of my matcha latte. I had already had my coffee that morning, so I couldn’t justify the jitters of having a second. Still, I needed something to keep my hands busy.
“Maybe he likes you,” Cat said, lifting an eyebrow over her iced peppermint mocha.
The coffee place kept the peppermint syrup stocked all year round just for her. You can take the girl out of the Christmas shop, but you can’t take the Christmas out of the girl, I thought with a shake of my head.
“There is no way he likes me. Number one, he doesn’t know me. Number two, we aren’t in high school. I don’t buy into that he’s mean ‘cau se he likes you bullshit,” I said. I hadn’t told her about the kiss. I didn’t want to add any fuel to her theory. Even if this guy thought he liked me two days ago, he certainly wouldn’t after I made his life a living hell, so it didn’t matter.
“Jay did,” Cat said with a shrug.
“’Cause Jay is insane. No offense,” I said.
Cat shrugged her shoulders and shook her head as if she were in full agreement. “I’m just saying, stranger things have happened.”
“It doesn’t matter. The man is clearly off his rocker.”
“Off his rocker? Where do you come up with these things?” she asked, trying and failing to hold back a laugh.
I rolled my eyes. “That is a totally normal thing to say.”
“If you’re eighty!”
“I’m an old soul.”
“An old soul out for revenge!” Cat said, her eyes sparkling. “That would make a great band name.”
“Or a horror movie title,” I said.
“I’m gonna do a photo series of that,” Cat said, and I could see that I was losing her. Her bright eyes sparkled with the sort of creative thought that I wished I had.
“Okay, that’s great. I am glad something came of this little meeting. But seriously, how am I bringing this a-hole down?” I asked.
“Make a bunch of fake reviews?” Cat said
“Call the police and report a suspected murder!”
“Witchcraft! Oh! Accuse him of witchcraft Salem witch style! ”
“Vandalism?” I asked, we were laughing so hard that tears prickled the corners of my eyes.
“Fill his life with minor inconveniences until he is convinced Cape Shore is cursed and he leaves!”
“That’s not a bad idea…” I said.
“Seriously? How would you even do that?” She gasped between laughs. “I must ask again, what have you done with my best friend?”
“Hear me out. I have been working in the food industry a long time. I have a lot of connections. I may be able to pull off some mischief and mayhem. I could hide rotten eggs around the bakery. No one would eat there with that smell!”
“I’ll put my cat burglar ‘fit together,” she said. “Just tell me when and where.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said, gulping the last sips of my matcha before standing. “I’m off to work. I’ll let you know the plan.”
“Hey,” Cat called as I turned to go. I stopped and looked at her over my shoulder. “No chickening out, okay? You deserve that bakery!”
I saluted her before walking out the door and traveling the two minutes to The Lobster Tail. The weather was a perfect, breezy seventy-four degrees, but with the sun still climbing, it threatened to be scorching by late afternoon. I kind of liked the hot days that made the pavement wavy and the ocean feel refreshingly cool.
“Jenna,” Mom called from the opposite side of the restaurant as soon as I walked through the back door, grabbing my white jacket off the hook. I had a busy day, and my plans for reven ge had to be put on hold for the time being as I checked inventory, called vendors, and made the schedule for next month in addition to whatever Mom was about to add to my plate.
“Yes?” I asked as I weaved through the already hot, chaotic kitchen.
In an hour, the heat would feel oppressive with the cooktops and ovens blasting at full temp and the press of bodies bringing the atmosphere to boiling. When I reached the office, I knew immediately that something was up. Mom’s mouth did this weird thing where it remained flat except for the corner that pulled up before she brought it back into line with conscious effort. She was trying not to grin.
“I need you to do me a favor,” she said. I folded my arms over my chest, waiting for her to continue. “You know that Jared is just getting started over at the bakery. I promised that I would give him all the names and numbers of our vendors.”
The vendor list was one of the many things that I had tried to organize and digitize but had only been partially successful with because of my parent’s stubbornness. As it was, half were listed in a thick binder filled with old invoices and the other half was organized neatly on a spreadsheet.
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Jenna, you know that there is a certain camaraderie amongst the restaurants here. Jared’s new place will be no different,” she said.
“Again, I cannot fathom why,” I said, shaking my head.
“He is a nice young man, and I don’t think he is planning anything nefarious. ”
“Hostile takeover or not, he is taking business away from locals.”
“That bakery was sitting vacant for a year,” Mom said. “I’m glad that someone will be revamping it, even if you not. I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you still represent this restaurant, and I expect you to be polite and professional.”
It was interesting that she mentioned politeness first. Nothing she said was wrong, but it still cut like a knife. I knew that I only had my own hesitancy to blame for the situation I was in, but still. It would have been nice if she had a little understanding of my worry around the Wallace take over. I had ran out of arguments to not show up at Mr. Corporate’s bakery, carting an armful of vendor numbers.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll drop it off this evening or tomorrow. I have a few things I need to do.”
“I’d like you to take it over to Jared now,” Mom said. She had already turned her attention away from me, but her voice booked no argument.
I looked between the book and my mom. What would new Jenna do? I wondered even as the familiar anxiety of professionalism and responsibility and other people’s opinions worked its way through my psyche.