Chapters (34)
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Epilogue
- Ruby’s Yeast Rolls
- Yellow Moon Road
- The Jury
- Teaser chapter
- About the Author
“Don’t leave those lights on in the window display when you leave. Runs up costs. And lower the thermostat as well, another unnecessary expense. Before we’re hit head-on with the usual Christmas craze, let’s make a note to take cash and checks only. No more credit cards; they’re too expensive to use. Personally, I think anyone using them is foolish. If you can’t afford to pay for something, then you don’t need it in the first place. Learned that from my granddad,” he said. “Ilene, let’s grab lunch at Ruby’s since Lauren’s already had hers. Lauren, we’ll come back after we’ve had some lunch. You can leave anytime you want. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but it can’t be helped,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Lauren looked at her mother. She just smiled, as usual. “I’ll take care of dinner tonight, dear,” she said, then followed her husband out through the back entrance.
If she didn’t know better, she would swear two strangers were inhabiting the bodies of her parents. Were they both becoming senile? Or was it just her father, and as was the norm, hadn’t her mother just agreed with anything he said? Or did they really think her lack of skills, whatever you wanted to call it, had created this slump? Whatever, she’d do as they asked. Lauren sincerely believed that once they returned, saw how sad sales were, they’d have a change of heart. Until then, she’d focus on her career.
As soon as they were gone, Lauren turned the window lights off with the remote. She turned off the gas fireplace, adjusted the thermostat to a low sixty degrees, as she knew this is what her father deemed acceptable. Part of her felt it was childish to just agree to his terms, and another part felt justified, as she was sure that, given time, he would draw the same conclusion she had: Razzle Dazzle’s days were numbered if they didn’t step into the twenty-first century. As she looked around the office for anything she’d missed, an item that might be important, she saw there were none. Tears blurred her vision, and her nose felt stuffy when she left through the back door for the last time. Or maybe the last time as a so-called employee, and if she believed her father, not a very good one at that.