Page 53 of Stronger Than Blood

Dupris chuckled. “Only wonderful things. You do need to hire some help and soon, very soon. You can’t do all this by yourself.” Then she clammed up, not willing to share anything else.

I sighed. I didn’t need a psychic to tell me I needed help.

I would be sneaking back to the café early tomorrow morning to restock my coolers.

From my quick perusal, I had enough pie to last a couple of days, but most of the cookies were gone.

Christmas had fallen on a Tuesday, which meant we had several days before the weekend, and I had planned not to return until Friday.

Ugh, I did need help. Sooner rather than later.

Kalinda and Rory joined us. As I always did these days, I snuggled up against my man as we chatted about Dupris’s new business in New Orleans and how she’d been bombarded with clients the moment she set up shop.

“The LGBTQ+ community didn’t have any one person they felt good going to, so they’ve become most of my clientele,” she’d said.

“That’s good, though, right?” Rory asked.

“It’s excellent, and… well, I-I think I might have met someone.”

Kalinda immediately looked up from the pecan pie she was eating. “A man?” she asked.

Kalinda shook her head. “No, auntie, you know I’m bisexual. I… well, she’s sorta psychic herself, and we met one night while I was at a local business event.”

We spent the next hour chatting before we all stood to go. “My dear,” Rory said before kissing me, “you’re going to fret over the baking for the rest of the day. Why don’t you go ahead and get your chores done now, and then you don’t have to worry about it.”

I chuckled. “I should probably get back to Granny Ida. I told her I’d help get the decorations put in the attic.”

“She has us to help with all that, and besides, you’ll just spend the entire time fretting.”

“Yes,” I admitted, laughing. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Rory said and turned to leave the restaurant. Dupris hung back a few moments, and when Rory and Kalinda were outside, she pointed toward a man who looked to be homeless, sitting at a table by himself on the restaurant side of the building.

“You should go meet him. I think he might be your new employee.”

“What?” I asked, but Dupris was already walking out the front door. “Ugh, psychics,” I said to myself, but I knew not to ignore such a pointed message from a master of her craft.

I walked up to the table and immediately saw the man was filling out an application.

I stood to the side, where I could be inconspicuous as I studied him.

He had on a green camo coat. It was worn around every edge.

His pants, what I could see of them, were shabby as well.

His hair was too long; it looked like he’d needed a haircut a few weeks ago.

Normally, I don’t think I’d have given the guy a second thought, but with Dupris’s intuition, I decided to give him a chance. “So, you are applying for employment?” I asked, startling him. He looked up and nodded.

“Well, may I ask your name and see your application? I’m Mick, the manager of the bakery area, by the way.”

Again, he nodded, then said, “I’m Arden Hernandez,” and he pushed the form over to me. He lifted a coffee cup to his lips, and I noticed he was shaking slightly. Strange, I thought.

I reviewed his past employment experience and saw that he’d worked in a couple of chain restaurants.

He’d done some baking but nothing that would’ve caused me to overlook his raggedy clothes.

I was like Granny Ida and Brenda in thinking if you’re coming in for a job interview you should dress your best; however, how was I to know if this was his best or not?

“I’ll be right back,” I said when I spotted Essie walking into the kitchen. I took his application with me and walked over to where Essie was about to throw the fried chicken into the basket to take it out to the buffet.

“Essie, you got a minute?” I asked.

She paused and smiled at me. “Hey, I thought you were off today?”

“Yeah, well, surprise, surprise, I’m not.”

She laughed.

“Okay, I saw this guy was filling out an application. Were you thinking of hiring him?” I asked, handing the application to her.

“No, he just came in and asked for one. I usually ask people to do it online, but Kendra found one of Brenda’s old forms under the cash register and gave it to him. Why? Do you think I should?”

I shook my head. “No, I think maybe I should.”

“Wait, what? Mr. Control Everything is going to consider taking on an employee?”

“Don’t be that way. You know I didn’t think we needed another person baking.”

“And you do now?”

“Well, look, I tried to take two days off, and the coolers are almost empty. I am at full capacity, and I still can’t keep up, so yeah, I think maybe it’s time.”

Essie walked back to the doors and peeked through the window at the man who sat nervously twiddling his thumbs, waiting for me to return.

“Not much to look at, but even though his clothes are worn, they appear clean.”

“So, you did check him out.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I saw him get out of his car when I got to work this morning.”

“What? Like at five in the morning?”

She nodded. “Took him until a half hour ago before he came in, but Mick, I’m almost sure he lives in that car.”

“Oh,” I said glancing back at him. “Regardless, my instincts tell me I should give him a try. What do you think?”

“I think it’s about time you found an assistant.”

I grinned, then we had to step out of the way as one of the workers grabbed the chicken Essie had been readying and carried it out to the buffet. I loved how Essie’s team worked together—never letting the balls drop and keeping the food fresh and flowing.

“Okay, here goes,” I said, taking the application back and asking her what I needed him to do.

“No worries, I’ll come with you and get all the things I need to get him started.”

I went back to the kitchen and preheated the ovens, knowing I didn’t want to waste time today. I just needed to bake some cookies and make a couple of extra pies, and then I could return home to my guests and family.

Essie brought Arden back to the kitchen, and now, instead of the lost, nervous look, he was smiling like he’d just won the lottery. “Arden, I’m only here for a couple of hours, but I’d like to see you in action. Have you done much baking?”

“Um, yes, sir. I… well, I used to help my grandpa when I was young.”

I couldn’t quite place the accent; maybe Spanish, but I wasn’t certain. “Your grandpa was a baker?”

He nodded. “He owned a panaderia in Kennewick, Washington.”

“Aah, well, then you’ve baked before. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Despite living in his car, I could tell Arden was clean. So, I sent him to wash his hands, then gave him an apron and hairnet. Once I was convinced that he was prepared for work, I gave him a list of things to do for the cookies while I made the pies.

He never complained, and I didn’t have to repeat my instructions once. Of course, I expected to find the cookies a mess because of that, but to my surprise, everything was cooked to perfection. Almost as if I’d done them myself.

Which, considering we didn’t use a recipe, and I had just given directions, was a huge accomplishment. “Okay, now the cookies are cooling. I need you to whisk the meringue for me. Have you done that before?” I asked.

“I have, yes,” he said, and after I poured the egg whites into the huge mixer we used, I left to deal with the items that were out of the oven long enough to go into the cooler.

I couldn’t believe I was willing to leave him on his own.

Normally, I’d have been terrified someone would ruin the meringue, and I’d have to start from scratch, wasting all those eggs. I hated waste, hated it with a passion.

But Dupris had said he was the right guy for the job, so I figured, why not toss him into the deep end of the pool and find out?

When I came back in, he was adding sugar, just as he should. I walked over to peek into the mixer and was pleased to find that the meringue was perfect, or would be in a couple more seconds.

He stopped the mixer just in time and lifted the bowl away, leaving perfect peaks. “Okay, so far, so good. Have you topped meringue pies before?”

He shook his head. “Um, no, but I’ve seen them in the supermarket. I think I know how.”

“Okay, show me then.”

Sure enough, he did an excellent job, and I showed him how to place the pies on a baking sheet, then slip them into the hot oven. “They just need to brown, which doesn’t take long. If you aren’t careful, they’ll burn quickly.”

I went back to the cookies and began to stack them in trays, so Stevie just had to replenish the displays when they ran out. I heard the oven open and looked up as Arden pulled the pies out and placed them on the cooling racks. The color of the meringue was perfect.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. Maybe this would work after all.

I showed Arden where to put all the food and even had Stevie help us bring in the cooling inventory.

“That should keep you busy, Stevie, at least until I get back on Friday. Arden, you’ve got the job if you want it, provided you’ve given Essie everything she needs.

Can you start Friday morning? I like to be here around five in the morning. Does that work?”

He smiled. “Yes… yes, thank you,” I glanced at his clean but worn clothes and almost said something about making sure he came ready to work but decided against it.

He couldn’t help if he was living in his car, but I could tell he was a naturally clean person.

If nothing else, his constant cleaning up around himself proved that.

“Okay, that’s it for today. Check with Essie to see if she needs anything else. If not, I’ll see you Friday morning.”

For a moment, it looked like the poor guy might break down, but he quickly got himself together, then turned to go back into the kitchen to find Essie.

“He’s a looker,” Stevie said, and I gave her a cocked eyebrow.

“Don’t make me have to HR you, Stevie.”

She laughed. “Just making an observation, boss.”

I chuckled and sent her back to put the desserts in the appropriate places to help her get through the rest of the day and tomorrow.

When I got home, Dupris was smiling from ear to ear. I sat next to her on the loveseat and bumped her shoulder. “Thanks, I think he’s going to be a great fit.”

She winked at me. I guess having a psychic on duty really was a good asset. Maybe more small businesses needed to hire them.

I knew when she left to go home that weekend, I was going to miss her something terrible.

How had I developed so many close relationships in such a short time span?

For someone who didn’t have friends, or at least not many before Rory arrived and changed my life, it was a bit overwhelming.

Amazing, fulfilling, but still overwhelming.