Page 36 of Far from Destined
Chapter 9
Dakota
“I am cravinga white mocha with strawberry drizzle,” Pop said from my side as she put her hands on the small of her back and stretched.
My stomach rumbled, and I grinned. “You know, I don’t work with strawberry in coffee often. It doesn’t always work out.”
“You’re right, but I think it could if we make it sweet enough.”
“Just like a raspberry white chocolate mocha?” I asked, my mouth watering.
Pop moaned. “Oh good, now I want that, too.”
“I guess if we add enough sugar, we don’t need to worry about the taste of the coffee?” I asked dryly, and Pop just snorted.
“Oh, yeah, I could see you not caring about the taste of the coffee. That’s so you.”
“You’ve caught me. I think we can make something special, but we’re not going to sell that treat in the large size.”
“The amount of sugar that’ll be in a drink like that? Not very responsible,” Pop said.
“We can always pair it with the strawberry tarts. I’ve been in the mood to play with more pastry.”
“I love this place.”
I paused and looked over at Pop. “I know you do. But thanks for saying it.”
“No, really,” Pop said again. “You never let anything get stale. And not just the food,” she added with a laugh, and I rolled my eyes. “You always have a plan in mind, and you try out new things. Plus, you work with the seasons. You love this place, and it shows.”
“You just made my day. Thank you, honey.”
“Thank me? I think I should be the one thanking you. I get to work for a boss that’s not an asshole, that lets me work on my own time, and allows me to create. I’m not stuck to a corporate menu.”
We both shuddered at the thought but grinned.
“Anyway, how was your night? Have you found someone to replace Nancy and Constance?”
I closed my eyes and groaned. Jason was up front, taking care of any after-lunch-crowd customers. But Pop and I were in the back, getting ready for the next surge of people and whatever we could get done early for the next day.
“No,” I said, sighing. “It’s getting ridiculous at this point. Everyone that I can trust just can’t fit me in. And the process for finding someone new or working with an agency just isn’t going to work.”
“But Myra is helping, right?”
I nodded, guilt filling me at the thought.
“She is. She’s been a lifesaver. Everybody has.”
“Do not feel guilty about that,” Pop snarled.
“How do you know I feel guilty?” I asked, my voice going a little high-pitched.
“I know you,” Pop replied. “You feel guilty over the fact that you need to rely on your friends. Those that offer to help you time after time. People who love you, which you never want to lean on. And now you’re forced into it, and you feel that.”
“I don’t like that you can read me so well,” I said wryly.
“You don’t need to like it. All that matters is that I know all.”
That made me laugh. “Whatever you say, Pop.”