The woman beside the service entrance had tucked her hands under her arms, although the September evening wasn’t cold. Through the open doors came the smell of roasted meat and warm butter. She watched a server carry a tray past her, then turned toward the women arriving from the parking lot.
“Could somebody help me get a little supper?”
Vanessa stopped beneath the entrance light. Her dress caught the light when she turned, and one of her friends paused behind her.
“Of course you picked tonight,” Vanessa said. “All these expensive cars. You must think you’ve found a good spot.”
“I haven’t eaten, honey.”
Vanessa glanced at the cup in her hand. “Here. Have a drink.”
She flicked the water across the woman’s front. Her friend gave a startled laugh, and Vanessa dropped the empty cup into a wastebasket before continuing inside.
Mara had been balancing a covered pastry tray against her hip. She set it on a clean cart and hurried over.
“Did she hurt you?”
The woman looked down at her wet cardigan. “I’m just hungry.”
Mara reached into her canvas bag. Her supper was wrapped in foil, two thick slices of bread around an egg she’d cooked before dawn. She put the package into the woman’s hands.
“There’s a napkin in there, too.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll find something when I get home.”
The woman studied her. Mara pulled a second napkin from her bag and dabbed water from the old cardigan’s sleeve.
“Those desserts belong through this door,” a server called.
“Coming.” Mara lifted the tray again.
She’d just handed over the last box when Vanessa appeared beside the kitchen doors.
“Why are you still here?”
“They needed the last tray.”
“Then you’re finished. The invitation didn’t include my staff.”
Mara adjusted the empty delivery bag on her shoulder. At the entrance, she paused beside the woman.
“Take your time eating, okay?”
“May some good come back to you, sweetheart.”
Mara smiled and went down the steps toward the bus stop.
A man in a dark suit emerged only after she’d gone. He held out a clean wrap to the older woman.
“Your guests are waiting, ma’am.”
“I won’t keep them much longer.”
“Was the evening useful?”
She folded the foil carefully around the sandwich. “One person made it worthwhile.”
“And your grandson?”
“Can practice patience.”
Upstairs, Julian Ashford had loosened his tie. On a monitor near the door, a security feed showed guests moving through the entrance below. He’d caught a brief, unpleasant scene involving a woman and a cup of water, but now all he could see were attendants clearing the walkway.
When his grandmother entered, her hair was pinned neatly and the damp cardigan was gone.
“Finally,” he said. “Can we get through the introductions?”
Lenora picked up her evening bag. “You’re coming downstairs with me.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been waiting to do?”
“Without the introductions.”
In the ballroom, conversation dwindled as she approached the microphone. Several young women straightened. Vanessa moved a little nearer the front.
Lenora thanked everyone for coming, then announced that her grandson would not be selecting a prospective wife that evening.
Julian turned his head sharply.
She returned the microphone to its stand before he could speak.
Once they were alone, he shut the sitting-room door with more care than his expression suggested.
“You arranged an entire evening for this.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Now we’ve spared ourselves some mistakes. Tomorrow, you begin a job.”
“I already have several.”
“This one has an apron.”
He stared at her.
“There’s a bakery in town,” she continued. “You’ll report there as an ordinary employee.”
“Grandma, I oversee businesses. I know how work happens.”
“Then learning to carry out somebody else’s instructions shouldn’t trouble you.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re serious.”
“Entirely. No driver at the door, no assistant solving problems, and no discussion of your money or your family.”
“You’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Wear comfortable shoes.”
The next morning, Julian arrived at Velune, a narrow-fronted bakery on a busy street in Arven, Pennsylvania. The glass display case was already full, and someone in the kitchen was tapping a pan against a worktable.
A woman beside the counter gave him a second look.
“Where have I seen him before?” she asked Vanessa.
Vanessa barely glanced up from a delivery sheet. “He’s the new hire. You’ve probably passed him somewhere.”
Julian stepped forward. “Where would you like me?”
“Mara will show you.” Vanessa raised her voice. “Mara!”
A woman in a flour-marked apron came through the swinging door. He recognized her from the delivery staff the night before, though she seemed not to recognize him at all.
“Come around here,” she said. “We’ll start with the register before the line gets ugly.”
Within three minutes, he erased an entire order.
Mara looked at the blank screen, then at him.
“I was trying to finish the sale,” he said.
“You certainly finished something.”
He laughed despite himself. She entered the order again, slower this time, making him repeat the steps.
His next assignment involved two coffees and a plate of rolls. He lifted the tray with confidence, caught its edge against the counter, and rescued one cup only by sacrificing the other to a rubber mat.
Mara brought a cloth.
“Still think this is simple?”
“I may have revised my position.”
“Good. That table’s waiting for what’s left of its breakfast.”
Vanessa came out while Mara was explaining the table numbers.
“Does nobody have actual work?”
“I’m showing him the floor,” Mara said.
“Then show him faster.” She looked at Julian. “And stop wasting stock.”
After she left, he lowered his voice. “Is she having an unusually bad morning?”
Mara wrung out the cloth. “You’ll learn the pattern.”
By late morning, he could deliver a tray without requiring supervision. Mara even approved a drink he’d made, although she wouldn’t let him forget the first two.
“Some people appreciate progress,” he told her.
“I’ll appreciate it when I stop mopping.”
While she shaped dough, he asked about the dessert delivery. She told him she’d dropped everything off and gone home.
“You didn’t want to stay?”
“For a room full of strangers hoping to meet a wealthy man? I had an early shift.”
He watched her tuck a loose end beneath a roll with the side of her little finger.
“You’ve done this a long time.”
“Since I was small enough to stand on a chair.”
“And you like it?”
“Baking? Yes.” She glanced toward Vanessa’s office. “The employment arrangement has its drawbacks.”
At lunch, he found her on a low wall behind the building, eating crackers from a paper sleeve. He sat beside her without trying to find a comfortable spot.
“That’s lunch?”
“It qualifies.”
“You’ve been moving since before I got here.”
“My paycheck doesn’t increase with every trip across the kitchen.”
He looked at the crackers again, then away. She noticed.
“I’m saving,” she said. “Eventually I want my own place.”
“A bakery.”
She nodded. “A small one would do.”
“You’ll get there.”
“You’ve known me for half a shift.”
“I’ve also seen what you can do.”
She brushed salt from her fingers. “What did you do before this?”
“Office work.”
“That clears up the tray situation.”
Before he could answer, Vanessa pushed open the back door.
“Break’s over.”
Mara checked her phone. “I have five minutes.”
“Not when there are orders waiting. Both of you, inside.”
The afternoon brought stacks of flat pastry boxes, ribbons, labels, and more orders than Mara could possibly pack alone. Julian moved beside her, folding cardboard while she filled each box.
Vanessa sent him out to wipe tables.
“I can finish this row first.”
“I assigned you tables.”
He started to object again. Mara gave a small shake of her head.
“Go. I’ve got it.”
He did as he was told. But when the others had left and he returned for his coat, Mara was still at the worktable, surrounded by unsealed boxes.
“Tell me that’s tomorrow’s work.”
“It has to be done for tomorrow.”
“And Vanessa left?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
He took off his coat.
“You can go,” Mara said. “This is normal.”
He pulled the unfinished stack toward him. “Show me that fold again.”
They worked until the front windows reflected only the kitchen lights. He learned that Mara took a bus home, and she learned that he had no useful knowledge of the town’s routes.
“Which one do you ride?” he asked as they walked toward the stop.
“The one that goes to my apartment.”
“That narrows it down.”
“You’ve never had to figure out a bus schedule, have you?”
“I’m willing to be taught.”
“You’re a peculiar office worker.”
At the stop, she told him he didn’t need to wait. He stayed until the bus arrived and she found a seat. Through the window, she lifted her fingers in a small wave.
Later, at home, Lenora found him leaning against the kitchen counter with his shoes off.
“One day,” he said. “I’ve completed one day.”
“And survived.”
“Apparently there’s another one tomorrow.”
She poured herself some water. “Was it only difficult?”
He looked down, smiling before he could stop himself.
“There’s someone there.”
Lenora set the glass down. “What’s her name?”
“Mara.”
Lenora’s mouth curved, and Julian immediately regretted answering.
“Don’t,” he said.
“I haven’t said a word.”
“You’re saying plenty with your face.”
She took her water upstairs, leaving him beside his discarded shoes.
At Velune the next morning, Vanessa’s friend watched Julian hang up his coat.
“Are you sure he’s just someone looking for a job?” she asked.
“What else would he be?” Vanessa said, though her eyes followed him into the kitchen.
She approached him while Mara was fetching a fresh tray.
“Settling in?” Vanessa asked. “Anything you need, come straight to me.”
“Mara’s been taking care of the questions.”
“Yes. You two seem to have become close awfully quickly.”
“She’s a good teacher.”
Vanessa lowered her voice. “Just don’t mistake attention for something harmless. Mara tends to get ideas about people…”
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