I giggle, shaking my head. “Not a man of many words, is he?” I muse.
“No, not at all, but he’s invaluable to me. I don’t know where I would be without him. Do you want to look around? A tour?”
“Yes, please.”
While walking around the warehouse, I’m pleasantly surprised by how many people rush over to him to say hello. Even the men who are bandaged and looking a little beaten down still have smiles on their faces.
“Anton, good to see you. Don’t worry, we’ve got it up and running again.”
“Anton, don’t stress it, man, we’ve got your back.”
“We’ve got a good team!”
“Thanks for sending the doctor to my home to check on my son this morning.”
“My wife made you cookies, they’re in the locker,” the last man says after we’ve moved around the break room to talk to a lot of different people.
“What kind of cookies?” he asks, grinning.
“Lemon and poppy seeds. The best kind,” the rough-looking man says. He has a beard as wild as grizzly bear, looking like he just walked out of the Russian wilderness.
“I tell you what, let me taste one and then share the rest with the guys in the break room.”
“Ah, bless your heart. I’ll bring one for the missus, too,” the man winks at me, then hurries off.
We’re busy talking to a lady when he returns with a plate holding two cookies.
“You have to give me a full review, because I know the moment I walk through the door tonight my wife is going to ask me, and she won’t stop nagging till I tell her what you thought."
Anton pops the entire cookie into his mouth and closes his eyes.
I bite a piece off mine and chew quietly, enjoying this exchange.
The man watches both of us with patient, yet eager attention.
“Well?” he says after a while.
“If I had my way, I wouldn’t have offered to share,” I giggle, covering my hand over my mouth. “Those are absolutely divine!”
“Aaaah! She’ll love that! And you?” he looks at Anton.
Anton grins. “Is Bella still working that second job doing a few loads of laundry for people in the building every week?”
“She is, and still complaining about it like a banshee,” the man chuckles.
“What if I commissioned her to make two weekly batches of cookies for each warehouse? Four warehouses in total. For the guys to share in the break room. Would she be happier doing that? Because I think these are fantastic!”
“Seriously? She’s always dreamed of opening a bakery!” he exclaims. “This will be almost like that. She has loads of baked goods she can make. She can mix it up each week, and the guys can enjoy all the different flavors!”
“Have Bella put together a quote for me. If she wants to do it, that is. Tell her not undercharge! I want a realistic price that makes it worth her while. You can give it to Yaroslav; he’ll make sure I get it.”
“Yes, sir!” the man says, nodding happily.
On the way out of the warehouse, Anton walks past Yaroslav. He waves for his attention.
“I’ve just asked Lenon’s wife to quote us on baked goods for the warehouse break rooms. Whatever she quotes, adds twenty-five percent, and then accepts it.”
“Yes, sir.”
