Page 6 of Their Sweet Haven
“Dress codes are ignorable if you know what to say. Or perhaps flash them the right amount of cash.”
She cackles. “You’re going to bribe someone just to go out on a date with me?”
“I can’t think of a better use of my money. Can you?”
I have her. She’s laughing. She’s mine.
This is going to be way more fun than talking to the governor.
THREE
hannah
Elias kept tellingme it was okay. That I shouldn’t be fretting over this.
It’s kind of hard not to.
Every guy in this place is wearing some form of three-piece suit. The women are in shimmering evening gowns or at least fancy blouses and skirts.
All of those scream class, importance, and money.
Meanwhile, I’m wandering in in a pair of blue jeans and ratty yet comfortable sneakers, and a sweatshirt advertising my bakery. I’m dressed to run between ovens and the cash register, do business, and not feel too bad if I get completely covered in flour.
“Reservation for three,” Elias says as we meander to one of the hosts. “It is under Lawson.”
“Right away, sir, follow me,” the other man says with a respectful half-bow.
Elias and I follow. “Three? We’re not three.”
“It was supposed to be my father, the governor, and myself tonight. They spared me the pain of that get-together, thankfully.”
“Hate your Dad that much, huh?”
“Hate’s a strong word to describe our relationship. But it certainly isn’t feeling like a loving relationship right now.”
We come to our table, which is at a booth. I always liked sitting at those a bit more. We have plenty of room, but I couldn’t help but scooting toward Elias a bit anyway.
“And the governor? Why on Earth are you meeting with the governor?”
Elias sits back. Our waiter comes, we order our drinks. Just some wine and water for now, nothing too excessive.
“You say you own the bakery, right?” Elias says, seemingly dodging my question.
“Yes. The Sweet Stoppe has been handed down by three generations of my family. From my grandmother to my aunt, to me.”
“Yet you do want to keep it open, right? You seem passionate. Like this wasn’t just dumped on you due to familial obligation?”
What a weird way to take the conversation. “I do quite enjoy my job, yes. I get all the pastries I could ever want, I get to make people happy, I get to bring cake to all of the town’s big events. It’s pretty fulfilling on top of paying my bills.”
“Sounds nice. You actually get to know the people you work with,” Elias says, sipping his wine.
“And you don’t?”
“Not particularly. I know the people around my office. But for the people I actually help with my work? There’s so many layers between us it doesn’t even feel like I’m doing anything.”
“Then why’d you become a commissioner for the public health department? It doesn’t sound like it’s your passion.”
He shrugs. “Maybe because I didn’t choose this job.”
