“It went very, very well,” Charlotte said in agreement. “Jonas took wonderful shots of the shop, and after your interview with Langston I’m willing to bet that you won’t be able to keep up with the demand for your cupcakes.”
Charlotte gave her daughter a reassuring smile. When she had come back six months before she had felt like crying when she opened the door to see her last born appear to be a shadow of the young woman who had come to her father’s funeral what now seemed so long ago. The bright red hair was a mousy brown, and she had lost a lot of weight. At five-nine she’d appeared almost emaciated and it took Charlotte all her resolve not to become hysterical. It was only after she revealed the circumstances behind her marriage and subsequent divorce that Charlotte understood what Natasha had gone through.
Sasha pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She wanted to sell not only cupcakes, but also specialty cakes, breads and made-to-order elegant desserts. Wickham Falls wasn’t Nashville, but she didn’t plan to offer the small-town residents creations of a lesser quality than those in the Music City. The doorbell chimed and within minutes there was a steady stream of curious potential customers. She’d sold out of fresh bread before the noon hour.
“May I help you?” Sasha asked an attractive teenage girl with large dark brown eyes and neatly braided hair ending at her shoulders.
“Yes. I’ve come to apply for the part-time counterperson position.”
“Are you still in school?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m finished with my classes at noon, so I’m available from one on.”
Sasha didn’t want to write the girl off before she interviewed her, although she would’ve preferred someone more mature. “What’s your name?”
“Kiera Adams. My dad is Dwight Adams,” she said proudly.
The moment Kiera mentioned her father’s name Sasha realized she was the daughter of the local dentist. “Does your father know you’re applying for the position?” She had asked the question because she did not want to have a problem with parents questioning the number of hours their son or daughter were committed to work.
Kiera shook her head. “Not yet. I figured I’d tell him once you hired me.”
Sasha bit back a smile. The young woman did not lack confidence. “Mama, could you please cover the front while I talk to Miss Adams?”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course.”
Sasha led Kiera to the rear of the shop, where she had set up an area for her office. She glanced over her shoulder. “Please sit down, Kiera. I’ve made up an application and I’ll give you time to fill it out before we talk.”
The help-wanted sign had been in the window for three days, and Kiera was the first person to respond. Sasha frosted several dozen cupcakes while Kiera filled out the application.
“I’m finished with the application, Miss…”
“You may call me Sasha,” she said when Kiera’s words trailed off.
She took the single sheet of paper from the teenager’s outstretched hand. It took less than a minute to review what Kiera had written. Although Sasha hadn’t included a category for age, Kiera indicated she was sixteen and a junior at the local high school. She was available to work every day beginning at one in the afternoon, and all day Saturday. Her prior work experience was as a temporary receptionist the previous summer at her father’s dental practice.
Sasha revealed, if hired, what Kiera would be responsible for. She would need Kiera to work four hours every afternoon from Tuesday through Friday. And if needed, one or two Saturdays each month. “If I hire you, will it interfere with your studies?”
“No, ma’am. Even though I’m enrolled as a junior, I’m taking senior-level classes.” She flashed a demure smile. “I took a lot of AP courses when I went to school in New York.”
It was apparent Dr. Adams’s daughter was very bright, and it was the third time Kiera had referred to her as “ma’am,” which made her feel much older than thirty-two. “You are the first one to apply for the position, and I’m going to keep your application on hand. I plan to wait a few more days, and if no one else applies, then I’ll contact you. Please keep in mind if I do decide to bring you on that initially you’ll start at the minimum wage.”
Kiera stood up. “Does that mean I’ll get the job?”
Sasha felt as if she’d been just put on the spot. “I’m going to be up-front with you, Kiera. You’re still a student and I don’t want you to compromise your grades. And because of this I’d like your permission to talk to your father.”
Kiera tucked several braids behind one ear. “I don’t mind, Miss Sasha.” She paused. “Will you call me if you decide not to hire me?”
“I will send you an email.”
Leaning down, Kiera picked up her backpack. “Thank you.”
Sasha smiled. “You’re very welcome. I still have a few samples on hand I’d like to give you from our grand opening. Are you allergic to chocolate?”
A smile spread across the girl’s face, softening her youthful features. “Thank goodness, no. I love chocolate.”
Sasha scrunched up her nose. “It’s my weakness, too.” She walked over to a refrigerator in the prep kitchen and took out a candy cane–striped box and filled it with chocolate crinkle cookies, brownies, a cup of chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and grated chocolate, and the last chocolate hazelnut cupcake. “Enjoy. And thank you for coming in.”
Kiera’s smile was dazzling. “Thank you so much, Miss Sasha.”
There was something about Kiera’s youthful enthusiasm Sasha liked.
Dwight Adams’s head popped up when he heard the light tapping on the door to his office. He had a two-hour wait before seeing his next patient. He hadn’t expected to see his daughter until later that night, but her coming to his practice was a welcome surprise. He came around the desk to hug her as she dropped the backpack filled with books on the carpet and set a red-and-white-striped box on a side table.
“What are you doing here?”
Kiera rose on tiptoe to kiss her father’s cheek. “What happened to ‘nice seeing you’?”
“Of course I’m happy to see you. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to come here instead of going home. And, by the way, how did you get here?”
“I asked Grammie to drop me off. She has a luncheon meeting with the Ladies Auxiliary.”
Dwight studied the teenager who was the mirror image of her mother at that age. The exception was her complexion and height, which she had inherited from him. Kiera, at five-six, was four inches taller than her petite five-foot-two mother. The school bus picked up and dropped off Kiera at the house; Dwight’s widowed mother lived in a two-bedroom guesthouse Dwight had built on the property.
Kiera rested her hands on the thighs of her denim-covered jeans. “I applied for a part-time job at the new bakery.”
Dwight went completely still. “You did what?”
“Please don’t lose it, Daddy.”
Extending his legs, he ran a hand over his face. “I’m not losing it, Kiera. I just need to know why you feel the need to get a job when you should be concentrating on your schoolwork. And it can’t be about money, because I give you an allowance.”
Kiera slipped her right hand in her father’s left, threading their fingers together. “I need something to beef up my college applications, either work or community service. A lot of kids