“Yes, we are.” He sounded amused. “In our defense, we enjoy what we do for a living. There’s no crime in that.”
She nodded. “What’s that adage…when you love your job it doesn’t feel like work?”
“I’ve heard that, but it’s still a lot of work for me.”
“True.” Her gaze traveled from each of the desserts remaining on the table. Pride swelled in her. “But I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”
Taryn hoped her dad gave her the chance to keep running Lawson’s in some capacity.
Garrett reached out, held her hand, and squeezed. “It’ll all work out.”
How did he read her so well? Before she could reply, Brecken ran up to the booth. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away.
Brecken’s cheeks were flushed, and he still wore a hairnet and his bakery whites. “Jayden sent me over to help you pack up.”
“We have a few more minutes left,” she said.
“Cool.” His breath came fast. He must have run. “Lots of people are in the shop.”
“Wonderful.” Taryn would discuss staying open on an occasional Sunday with Jayden, and then they could talk to the others. She would need at least three of their staff willing to commit to an extra day.
“What should I do?” Brecken asked.
She pointed to the plastic containers they’d brought baked goods over in. “Leave a couple of those out, but put the rest into the cardboard boxes, please.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” He wiped his hands on his apron and stacked them. “Now that they’re empty, they’ll be easier to carry. Want me to take these to the bakery?”
“That would be great, but don’t carry too many. I don’t want you to trip.”
“I’ll be careful.” A minute or two later, he held on to a large box. “Be right back.”
The lanky teen hurried away.
Garrett watched him go. “Tell me about Brecken.”
“He’s a sweet kid. He started working at the bakery two years ago to save for community college and help his family. His siblings cut the coupons.”
Garrett lowered his gaze to the table, staring at the plate of brownies as if it contained the winning numbers for the upcoming lottery drawing. That was odd.
“Why do you want to know about Brecken?” She waited for an answer, but he remained silent. “Garrett?”
“I’m good at figuring out people. It’s a useful skill with selecting juries.”
“Okay.” Except it wasn’t if he used that with her or her employees. “What does this have to do with Brecken?”
“He’s wearing three-hundred-dollar tennis shoes.”
The words sunk in. She immediately rejected what he implied. “No.”
“Taryn—”
“No.” The word flew out. She shook her head as if to emphasize the point. “Brecken is the oldest of seven children. His family lives in an apartment and can barely afford rent because his dad was in a terrible accident and on disability. Brecken’s mom works two jobs. They must be knockoffs.”
“He has the motivation.”
Her stomach went rock hard. “You think Brecken stole…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
