The Cafe on Crescent (Lemon Sugar Book 2) by Carolyn Finch

Author:Carolyn Finch [Finch, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Upon arrival at the back entrance of the hotel, Lucy closed her eyes and hoped that Tavish was going to be all right. As she placed her handbag in a cubby hole and picked up the basket of clean sheets for the first-floor bedrooms, she was so worried about Tavish, his leg, and his scheming fiancée, she didn’t think about her tree—at all.

Lucy tried to stop her thoughts from running wild with anxiety, but her work was so mind-numbingly boring that she had nothing else to think about. As she made the last bed, she realized she couldn’t put off the conversation with Mr. Treleaven any longer.

Am I really doing this? Giving up a sure paycheck to take a chance on baking wedding cakes? Have I lost my mind? What if I fail miserably?

Lucy stopped with her hand on the handle of the door to the bar—a place respectable ladies didn’t enter—ever. Feeling sick to her stomach, she knew this was the only way to finally speak to Mr. Treleaven with some semblance of privacy. If a few old drunks overheard them, she didn’t care.

Lucy braced herself for the altercation. She had never, ever had to assert herself like this before. In her previous life, married to Russell, he would have handled this. He had always stepped in to handle any unpleasantness once they were married, as her adoptive father had before that. Now, she was here, standing on her own, charting a new path, and she worried what Mr. Treleaven’s reaction would be.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her hand as she grasped the door handle. Rough and red from the water she had used to clean the kitchen, her hand didn’t look like it used to when she was married. Without the protection of a husband, she was at the mercy of endless drudgery, unless she could navigate this new career.

Lucy straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and turned the handle.

Her boss was standing by the bar, wiping glasses.

Her stomach flipped with apprehension as she approached him. “Mr. Treleaven, I need a word. I’m sorry to drop this on you at such brief notice, but I have to let you know that due to some unforeseen circumstances, today will be my last day here.”

“Last day?” Mr. Treleaven’s head snapped up in anger.

“Yes. I’m quitting.” She handed him her apron and the little cap she wore to identify her as staff.

“You can’t,” Mr. Treleaven snarled at her. “I need more notice than that.”

“That would matter if I needed a reference, but I don’t. This is my last day, and I’ll take the pay owed to me.” Lucy stepped back; her heart pounded.

Mr. Treleaven’s face reddened in fury. “What came up?”

“A private matter.” Lucy couldn’t bear to speak of her precious wedding cake business to such a bully. He would mock and humiliate her if she mentioned the Lemon Sugar Confectionary.

“I’m not paying you when I expect you here first thing tomorrow.” Mr. Treleaven’s eyes narrowed. “You can leave in two weeks, as is standard.

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