Page 30 of Only for the Season
“I thought you went toHideaway Haven Resortfor Thanksgiving.”
Hideaway Haven Resortis an exclusive and super fancy hotel and restaurant on the beach. Hudson Clark built the place after he got injured and was forced to retire from the NFL.
My parents spend all of their holidays at the resort because they can afford it. While they complain about how expensive my culinary school education was, they don’t need the money. They’re orthodontists and have the sole orthodontic practice on the island.
My dad’s nose wrinkles. “Their pumpkin pie was very bland this year.”
“I spoke to Hudson,” Mom says and I bite my tongue before I groan. I also try to come up with another topic of conversation. But I don’t manage before she speaks again. “He’s searching for a new pastry chef.”
I’m aware since he contacted me and offered me the job. But I’m not closing my bakery to work for someone else. I don’t do well under someone else’s control. Witness my interactions with my parents.
“I’m certain he’ll find someone,” I say.
“You could go work for him,” she pushes and I sigh. Here we go.
“He pays very well,” Dad adds.
My parents don’t care how much the job pays. They care that the resort is owned by a famous man and, therefore, is prestigious. Unlike owning a quirky little bakery.
“Did you ask him what the salary is?” I can’t stop myself from poking at my parents. Money isn’t everything but try and tell them anything of the kind.
Dad’s eyes light up. “You’re interested?” He digs out his phone. “I bet Hudson would interview you today.”
“I’m not interested. I have a business to run.”
Dad shoves his phone back in his pocket. “A business to run into the ground,” he mutters just loud enough for me to hear.
“Things are going well. Thanks for asking.”
I’m not lying. Much. Thanksgiving was a success and once I win this gingerbread house contest, I’ll have ten thousand dollars to put toward my debts. Plus, the loft above the bakery is rented out for two months when it usually sits empty.
Things aren’t all doom and gloom forPirate’s Pastries.
“Going well?” Mom raises her eyebrows at me. I don’t squirm. She can’t guilt me. She lost the right after all of the snide comments.
Why aren’t you running a patisserie in Paris? Why did you return to this island? You’re such a disappointment. I thought you had grand ideas.
I did have grand ideas. Which were crushed by one asshole who I never told my parents about. I knew exactly howthey’d react and I had no interest in being caught up in litigation for years. No thanks.
I force a smile. “Yes, going well.”
“The chain coffee place on the boardwalk is packed whenever I’m there,” Dad says.
His comment hurts worse than being devoured by a kraken. My parents frequent the other coffee place on the island. They’d rather spend money on a chain place than help out their daughter.
I need to get out of here. Why do I ever bother trying to speak with them? All they ever do is push me to do as they wish. They don’t want to supportmydreams. They want me to live out theirs.
“I need to get back to the bakery,” I claim, even though the bakery is closed today.
I practically run as I push my cart out of city hall and away from them.
If I had children, I would never be mean to them the way they are with me.
Chapter 11
“Turns out the kraken isn’t the only thing getting released.” ~ Jeremy
Jeremy
