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Second-Chance Sweet Shop

Page 2

by Rochelle Alers


  Kiera stood up. “Does that mean I’ll get the job?”

  Sasha felt as if she’d been just put on the spot. “I’m going to be up-front with you, Kiera. You’re still a student and I don’t want you to compromise your grades. And because of this I’d like your permission to talk to your father.”

  Kiera tucked several braids behind one ear. “I don’t mind, Miss Sasha.” She paused. “Will you call me if you decide not to hire me?”

  “I will send you an email.”

  Leaning down, Kiera picked up her backpack. “Thank you.”

  Sasha smiled. “You’re very welcome. I still have a few samples on hand I’d like to give you from our grand opening. Are you allergic to chocolate?”

  A smile spread across the girl’s face, softening her youthful features. “Thank goodness, no. I love chocolate.”

  Sasha scrunched up her nose. “It’s my weakness, too.” She walked over to a refrigerator in the prep kitchen and took out a candy cane–striped box and filled it with chocolate crinkle cookies, brownies, a cup of chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and grated chocolate, and the last chocolate hazelnut cupcake. “Enjoy. And thank you for coming in.”

  Kiera’s smile was dazzling. “Thank you so much, Miss Sasha.”

  There was something about Kiera’s youthful enthusiasm Sasha liked.

  * * *

  Dwight Adams’s head popped up when he heard the light tapping on the door to his office. He had a two-hour wait before seeing his next patient. He hadn’t expected to see his daughter until later that night, but her coming to his practice was a welcome surprise. He came around the desk to hug her as she dropped the backpack filled with books on the carpet and set a red-and-white-striped box on a side table.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Kiera rose on tiptoe to kiss her father’s cheek. “What happened to ‘nice seeing you’?”

  “Of course I’m happy to see you. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to come here instead of going home. And, by the way, how did you get here?”

  “I asked Grammie to drop me off. She has a luncheon meeting with the Ladies Auxiliary.”

  Dwight studied the teenager who was the mirror image of her mother at that age. The exception was her complexion and height, which she had inherited from him. Kiera, at five-six, was four inches taller than her petite five-foot-two mother. The school bus picked up and dropped off Kiera at the house; Dwight’s widowed mother lived in a two-bedroom guesthouse Dwight had built on the property.

  Kiera rested her hands on the thighs of her denim-covered jeans. “I applied for a part-time job at the new bakery.”

  Dwight went completely still. “You did what?”

  “Please don’t lose it, Daddy.”

  Extending his legs, he ran a hand over his face. “I’m not losing it, Kiera. I just need to know why you feel the need to get a job when you should be concentrating on your schoolwork. And it can’t be about money, because I give you an allowance.”

  Kiera slipped her right hand in her father’s left, threading their fingers together. “I need something to beef up my college applications, either work or community service. A lot of kids at school have already signed up at the church, town hall and other businesses in Wickham Falls. And besides, Miss Sasha said I was the first one to apply, so there is a good chance she might hire me.”

  “What about your working here?” Dwight questioned.

  The summer before Kiera had worked for him when the permanent receptionist went on vacation. As a divorced father, he shared custody with his ex-wife, Adrienne; for years Kiera lived in New York with her and spent one month every summer with him in The Falls. He had made it a practice to visit his daughter several times a year, and whenever he returned home, he’d experienced a modicum of guilt that he bore some responsibility for ending his marriage when he’d been away in the military, which resulted in his not being there to see his daughter grow up. However, everything had changed this past summer when Kiera announced she did not want to return to New York to live with her mother and stepfather, and preferred spending the last two years of high school living with her father and grandmother in Wickham Falls.

  Dwight had a lengthy conversation with his ex-wife and convinced her it was time for him to have his daughter for more than a month or a brief visit on school holidays. She finally agreed, with the provision that Kiera vacationed with her during the month of July. Assuming the role as a full-time father had also impacted his obligation as an army reservist. Serving his country for almost two decades while attaining the rank of major was now relegated to his past.

  “That’s nepotism, Daddy. I can’t put down that I worked for Dwight Adams, DDS, and not have someone question our relationship. Miss Sasha said she wanted to talk to you beforehand if she decides to hire me. I guess she doesn’t want my having a job to mess with my grades.”

  “Good for her.” Dwight liked the idea that Kiera’s potential employer was concerned about her education.

  Although he was five or six years old than Sasha Manning, Dwight hadn’t had much interaction with her when growing up in The Falls. He and two of her older brothers had attended high school at the same time. But he’d heard a lot about Sasha when she became a celebrity chef and then married platinum-selling country singer Grant Richards. He was as surprised as most in town when she returned to The Falls to set up a bakeshop in one of the vacant stores at the far end of Main Street.

  Kiera pointed to the box. “She gave me samples of chocolate desserts. I was going to leave it in the break room until I remembered Miss Chambers is on a diet and doesn’t want to eat anything with sugar, so I’m going to take them home for Gram...” Her words trailed off when her cell phone rang. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she stared at the phone. “It’s Miss Sasha. She said she would email me if she wasn’t going to hire me.”

  Dwight pointed to Kiera’s death grip on the small instrument. “Are you going to answer your phone?” He noticed her expression of apprehension when she put it to her ear. Her expression changed quickly as she covered her mouth with her free hand. “Yes. My dad is here with me.” Kiera extended the phone to him. “Miss Sasha would like to speak to you.”

  He took the phone. “Hello.”

  “Dr. Adams, this is Sasha Manning. Your daughter applied for a part-time position at my bakeshop. Although I told her that I’m waiting to interview other folks, I’ve decided to hire her, and I would like to talk to you because I need your reassurance that her hours won’t conflict with her schoolwork.”

  Dwight smiled. His priority for his daughter was maintaining her grades so she could gain acceptance into at least one or two of her colleges of choice. It was apparent Sasha was of like mind. They discussed the details of the position. Dwight agreed to let her take the job but warned that if her grades slipped, she’d have to quit.

  “I understand that, Dr. Adams. If it’s all right with you, I’d like her to start tomorrow. I’m going to need a copy of her immunizations because she’ll be working in what we call food service, and her Social Security number.”

  “I can get those to you later this afternoon after my last patient. What time do you close?”

  “I draw the shades once I close at six, but I’ll be here later than that. Does that work for you?”

  Dwight nodded although she couldn’t see him. “Yes.” He was scheduled to see his last patient at 5:30. Then he would have to go home and get the documents Sasha needed to place Kiera on her payroll. “I’ll probably see you after you close.”

  “I’ll be here.” There came a pause before Sasha’s voice came through the earpiece again. “Thank you, Dr. Adams. I hope you don’t mind my saying, but your daughter is a delight.”

  Dwight stared at Kiera staring back at him and winked at her. He had to agree with Sasha. There was never a time when he did not enjoy spending time with his daughter. And
now that she was living with him, they had grown even closer. “I know I sound biased, but I have to agree with you. She is pretty special.”

  “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Yes,” Dwight confirmed.

  “Dr. Adams, can you spare a few minutes of your time when you come because I’d like to talk to you about something other than your daughter’s employment.”

  He paused, wondering what it was Sasha wanted to discuss with him. “Yes,” Dwight repeated, now that she had aroused his curiosity. He ended the call and handed the phone back to Kiera. “It looks as if you’re hired.”

  Kiera clasped her hands together in a prayerful gesture. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Instead of the bus dropping me off at the house, I’ll get off with some of the other kids on the other side of the tracks.”

  Dwight nodded. The railroad tracks ran through the downtown business district. “What about lunch?” He knew Kiera left school early because lunch was her last period of the school day.

  “I get out at twelve and by the time the bus drops me off it will be about 12:30. Instead of going home to eat, I’ll ask Grammie to help me make lunch and I’ll eat it here before walking down to the bakery.”

  He smiled. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

  “Daddy, aren’t you the one who told me to have a strategy before I execute a plan?”

  Dwight managed to look sheepish. “Yes, I did.” He’d lost track of the number of forewarnings he’d given his daughter over the years, and it was apparent she remembered most of them because she could repeat them verbatim.

  * * *

  Dwight found a parking spot behind the bakery and walked around to the front. He’d dropped Kiera at home and told his mother not to plan for him to eat dinner with her and his daughter. He had no way of knowing how long his meeting with Sasha would take.

  The woven shade on Sasha’s storefront had been pulled down, as had the one covering the front door.

  Dwight tapped lightly on a square of the door’s beveled glass insert, and seconds later he saw Sasha as she pushed aside the shade and then opened the door. He was just as shocked as many in the town at the word that Sasha Manning was back in town, and without her superstar country-artist husband. She’d kept a low profile until the town council approved her opening a bakeshop in the downtown business district. Questions about her marriage were finally answered when a photographer captured photos of Grant Richards with a woman who was purported to be his new girlfriend. And when reporters asked Grant about his relationship with Sasha, he’d admitted it was over.

  Smiling, Sasha opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

  Chapter Two

  Sasha successfully smothered a gasp when she greeted Dwight Adams. He was more than gorgeous. He was beautiful. His balanced features in a lean sable-brown sculpted face, large dark penetrating eyes and dimpled smile were mesmerizing. His buzz-cut salt-and-pepper hair was a shocking contrast to his unlined face. Dressed entirely in black—sheep-lined leather bomber jacket, pullover sweater, jeans and Doc Martens—he was unequivocally the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.

  Six years his junior, she’d had little or no interaction with him when growing up. By the time she entered the first grade Dwight was already in middle school. Even if they had been the same age, they might not have traveled in the same circles. Wickham Falls, like so many small towns, was defined by social and economic division. His family lived in an enclave of The Falls populated by those who were middle-and upper-middle-class professionals and business owners, while she had always thought of her family as the working poor, because her father always said he was one paycheck away from the poorhouse. Despite Harold’s claim they were poor, Sasha never felt as if they were. Her parents owned their house, there was always food on the table and, as the only girl, she hadn’t had to wear hand-me-downs.

  She’d overheard some of the girls that were in her brothers’ classes whisper about how gorgeous Dwight was, but talking about cute boys or fantasizing about teen idols with her girlfriends had not been reality for Sasha. She’d never wanted to host a sleepover, because what happened in the Manning house stayed within the Manning household. Neither she nor her brothers ever publicly spoke about their parents’ toxic union.

  What she had never been able to understand was why her parents had married in the first place because they could not agree on anything; and yet they’d celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Two days later her father passed away from a massive coronary. He was only forty-nine. That was seven years ago, and the first time Sasha had returned to The Falls since leaving at eighteen.

  “Congratulations, Sasha. You managed to add some class to The Falls,” Dwight said as he glanced around the bakeshop.

  She forced a smile she did not quite feel. She had spent more than a year planning to open a bakeshop, several months awaiting the town council’s approval, and then even more time until the contractor finished renovating the space to make it functional for her to furnish it with prep tables, sinks, industrial ovens, mixers, blenders, deep fryers, food processors, bakeware and utensils.

  “You don’t think it’s too fancy?”

  Dwight turned and met her eyes. “Of course not. It’s charming and very inviting.” He smiled. “And I like the alliteration of Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe.”

  She nodded. “It took me a while to come up with a catchy name. My first choice was Sasha’s Patisserie, but changed my mind because I didn’t want to have to explain to folks what a patisserie is.”

  * * *

  Dwight walked over to the showcase and peered at the colorfully decorated and labeled pastries. “All they have to say is ‘I want one of these and two of those.’ By the way, how was your grand opening?”

  Sasha moved over to stand next to him. “It went well enough. I gave out a lot of samples, and hopefully it will be enough to induce folks to come back again.”

  Dwight gave Sasha a sidelong glance. He had been more familiar with her brothers than their little sister. It wasn’t until she had become a contestant in a televised baking competition that he, like most living in The Falls, tuned in to watch and remotely cheer her on. The camera appeared to make love to the tall, slender pastry chef with a wealth of red-gold curls, sparkling green eyes and an infectious laugh. Although she did not win the competition, her appearance was enough to make her a viewer favorite. Her star continued to rise when she became the personal baker to several celebrities and married a popular country singer, and then without warning walked away from the bright lights to come back to her place of birth.

  It only took a quick glance for Dwight to notice lines of tension around Sasha’s mouth. As someone responsible for managing his own practice, he suspected she was apprehensive about making her new business a success.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I ate a piece of your chocolate-and-pecan cheesecake and wanted more.”

  Sasha flashed a relaxed smile for the first time. The gesture softened her mouth as her eyes sparkled like polished emeralds. “I’ll definitely put that on my cheesecake list.”

  Dwight reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out an envelope. “I brought you a copy of Kiera’s immunizations and her Social Security number.”

  Sasha took the envelope. “Come with me. I’m going to scan both and then give them back to you. The less paper I have to file, the better.”

  He followed her to the rear of the shop, where a spacious immaculate commercial kitchen was outfitted with industrial appliances. His gaze was drawn to a built-in refrigerator/freezer, and then to dozens of cans and labeled jars of spices stacked on metal shelves that spanned an entire wall. Sasha had set up a desk with a computer, printer and file cabinet next to the exit door leading out to the rear parking lot. Bills and invoices were tacked to the corkboard with colorful pushpins affixe
d to the wall above the desk.

  “So, this is where the magic happens.”

  Sasha nodded, smiling. “Disney may take offense, but this is my magic kingdom.” She sat on the office chair in front of the computer and patted the straight-back chair next to the workstation. “Please sit down.”

  “When did you know you wanted to be a baker?” Dwight asked, as he sat where Sasha had indicated.

  She swiveled on her chair to face him. “I never wanted to be a baker.”

  His eyebrows rose slightly. “But don’t you bake?”

  “Bakers make pies, while pastry chefs make desserts.”

  Dwight inclined his head. “I apologize and stand corrected.” Sasha’s low, sensual laugh caressed his ear.

  “There’s no need to apologize, Dr. Adams.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “It’s Dwight. I’m only Dr. Adams at my office.”

  Sasha paused and then nodded. A beat passed. “Okay, Dwight. I suppose you’re wondering what else I wanted to talk to you about?”

  Dwight, sitting with his hands sandwiched between his knees, watched as Sasha inserted a thumb drive into a port. “I must admit I am curious.” The seconds ticked as she saved what she’d scanned and handed the papers back to him.

  “How difficult was it for you to set up your practice here in The Falls? And how long did it take before you knew it would be viable?”

  Her query caught Dwight slightly unawares. He thought Sasha would’ve established a detailed business plan before deciding to open the shop. After all, she was selling goods that relied on supply and demand, while he offered a specific service.

 

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