Tex didn’t seem to notice.
“Maybe throw on some desserts for the dining room menu. Leave some dough or whatever so the weekend staff can just shove it in the oven and we’re not spending money to toss crap in the garbage. We know it’d be a hit on your tips, so we’ll bump you up to an average pastry chef’s salary and we’ll negotiate a percentage of Willow’s Good Stuff to cover the cost of you runnin’ it out of the kitchen.”
He rammed a hand in his jeans pocket, came out with a crinkled piece of paper, and shoved it my way.
I took it, uncrinkled it, and saw, in Tex’s antagonistic handwriting, a figure that I assumed would be my base pay, and it was fifteen thousand dollars more than I made now at SC.
Tex confirmed my assumption.
“Salary, same benefits.”
Holy…
Fuck.
My mind flashed through this offer.
The money was freaking awesome.
I’d take a percentage hit on Willow’s Good Stuff, but I wouldn’t have to deliver (it wasn’t good to give my home address to clients). I could add my ingredients on SC’s food orders and get them for less. I could do my work in a shiny, happy, big kitchen. I didn’t have to run my business out of my own place, essentially driving back and forth to two workplaces. I’d be doing more baking, but I wouldn’t be serving (and again, not offering deliveries), so it was without a doubt I would shave off a good four or five work hours a day, so I wouldn’t be working twelve-to-fourteen-hour days, but something akin to what normal people worked.
“You can think about it,” Tex said. “You like the way it is…” He shrugged. “Your body too run down. Though, think it’d be good for you and us.”
“Thanks,” I choked.
Otis, who helped Tex in the coffee cubby, came in whistling.
He smiled at me and said, “Hey, Willow,” then looked to Tex. “You ready to face the under-caffeinated mob, big man?”
Tex answered by lumbering behind the coffee cubby.
I raced to the staff room, hearing Raye (who I’d already greeted with a happy hug and gushed over her ring) call, “You okay, Will?”
I ignored her, hit the staff room, yanked my phone out of my server apron and called Gabe.
“What’s up, babe?” he answered on the second ring.
“I-I-I…” I stammered again. Then in a rush, I told him what Tex just offered me.
“Fuck, that’s awesome,” Gabe said when I quit blathering.
I didn’t reply.
“Isn’t it awesome?” he asked.
It was so awesome, it redefined the meaning of awesome.
That was why I burst into tears.
Within seconds, I was in Raye’s arms and Luna had slid my phone out of my hand.
I heard her murmuring to Gabe. Raye led me to the bench in front of the lockers and sat me down. Lucia brought me a glass of water.
And when I recovered from the earth-shattering blitzkrieg of emotions caused by realizing…
No, understanding—truly, deeply, to my soul understanding that it was over.
Shit would happen but it was over.
