Imagine That by Kristin Wallace Read Free Book Online Page B

cringed as her boss raced into the kitchen, nearly tripping over the firefighters.
    â€œWhat happened?” Jessie asked.
    â€œOnly a little smoke,” Emily said.
    Jessie’s eyes slid toward the sink where the now sodden cake resided. “Sorry boys,” she said on a deep sigh. “Looks like we had a kitchen mishap.”
    The firemen gave Emily a dark look as they filed out of the room. She wanted to sink through the floor.
    Jessie walked over to the sink to inspect the damage. “Pan’s destroyed, too.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Emily said. “I had an idea all of a sudden and got distracted.”
    â€œThe cake was on a timer.”
    â€œGuess I didn’t hear it.”
    â€œWe need to talk,” Jessie said in a soft, resigned voice.
    Emily’s heart sank. She hated that phrase. Talking never ended well. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
    â€œOh, don’t start crying now,” Jessie said, alarm in her voice. “You and I both know a bakery isn’t the place for you. I knew when I hired you I was taking a gamble, but…”
    â€œA gamble? What do you mean?”
    Jessie fixed Emily with a let ’ s-get-real stare. “I could tell right off you didn’t have much experience, but something told me you needed this job. I guess I’m a soft case for people who are down on their luck. I didn’t even realize it until you looked at me with your sad eyes and babbled something about God and signs. I was willing to give you a chance, but I can’t ignore a fire.”
    â€œI’ll figure it out. I promise.”
    â€œHoney, either you’ve got the knack or you don’t. You don’t unfortunately. It’s like you and your writing. I couldn’t write a chapter, let along a whole book, if you put a gun to my head. Cooking isn’t your thing. No need to feel bad about it.”
    So why did Emily feel so ashamed? She hated failing, and she’d been doing nothing but failing for so long now. Emily took off her cooking smock and handed it over. “I’m sorry about your cake and the pan. I’ll pay for it.”
    â€œI’ve got more pans. Cake batter, too,” Jessie said. “Don’t think I failed to miss the fact that most of your earnings went back into the till.”
    Emily’s cheeks were going to become permanently stained with red. “What a disaster.”
    Jessie winked and walked Emily to the door. “In the kitchen maybe, but your little fans improved my bottom line.”
    Emily managed to keep the tears at bay until she was out of sight of the bakery. She swiped a hand across her wet cheeks. It was stupid to be so upset. Except a baker’s assistant could now be added to the list of things at which she couldn’t do. Depression sat heavy on her chest.
    She looked up and down the street, wondering what to do now. She could go back to the bed and breakfast where she’d been staying. Better yet, she could pack her bags and head out of town.
    Good idea, except her car still resided in Fred’s garage. Shockingly, parts for expensive foreign cars were not abundant in Covington Falls, so unless she wanted to hop on a bus, she couldn’t leave. She didn’t think buses allowed cats, in any case, and she couldn’t leave Wordsworth.
    Another alternative was to climb into bed and not come out for days. Refuse to shower, eat nothing but dry cereal out of the box, and mutter about eight-legged sea creatures. Have a real breakdown. All the best authors had one at some point. She’d be joining elite company.
    â€œSounds like a plan.”
    She went in the direction of the bed and breakfast. She reached the park at the intersection of Main Street and First Avenue. To her right, City Hall guarded over the good citizens of Covington Falls like a benevolent uncle. Opposite the hall stood an imposing gray building with stone columns. The library.
    All thoughts of breakdowns