Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3)
Page 24
Georgina nods. She firmly clasps her hands together.
"My apologies," she gulps.
Mr. Harris growls and storms out of the kitchen. I've met men like him before. Men with a short fuse. I suppose seeing certain things from the front lines, or from the cook's line, can scar a person for life. My dad once did business with a captain in the Navy who dove to the floor during lunch after a plate shattered in the kitchen. He thought he was being shot at.
"Remind me never to piss him off," Cole says quietly.
I wipe another bead of sweat from my forehead after Jeff nods in my direction. I follow Cole back outside just as the sun is starting to rise. It turns the sky an orangey color that reminds me again of orange-scented sticky buns. I clutch my stomach to stop it from making loud noises. At least one good thing came of this bakery orientation. I met Jeff.
"Ready?" Bree finally joins me again as our class breaks up across the quad before our morning lessons.
"Ready for what?"
"Day two," she responds. "We still have a full day of classes ahead of us."
"But our first one isn't until ten this morning, right?"
I feel relieved when Bree nods. That means I can head back to our apartment and sleep off my headache. The two of us walk back to our apartment. Bree makes another pot of coffee, and I collapse on my bed and close my eyes. Day two cannot be like day one. I have to try harder.
I have to wear flats.
SOUTHERN PEACH PIE & A DEAD GUY
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