Be Sweet to Me

Chapters 1 - 6

Chapter 1

"Is there anything else I can help you with Mrs. Plat?" I waited, hoping that this headache of a nearly two-hour service call would end.

"No. Goodbye," Mrs. Plat ended the call and the line went silent. I glance at the time on my computer screen.

'5:02 PM - Quittin time', I thought to myself. I checked my call log and realized I was two calls short of hitting today's goal. 'I won't be getting the $250 bonus this week', I sighed. I'd be skipping guilty pleasures this weekend. No nails, no shopping, and most difficult to say no to Chez Chopin, the French bakery I go to every weekend to try a new treat.

My mouth watered at the thought of that little bakery off I-575. It was my own little slice of paradise, filled with sweets that made every grocery store cupcake or restaurant apple pie pale in comparison. My plan was to get some cute Autumn nails, then I was going to wrap my fresh manicure around a hot chocolate and a warm croissant on the bakery's patio while breathing in the scent of freshly baked bread and crisp new Fall air as a reward for braving the stores after a day well spent early Christmas shopping. But that was all out the window now. I'll have to spend my weekend organizing my bedroom and helping Mama and Mirah, my sister, get ready for Thanksgiving. Though I wasn't much help in the kitchen, I would help by getting a head start on the cleaning.

It wasn't that I was a terrible cook, and I could follow a recipe, but I get bored or distracted and before you know it the meal is a little less than perfect, but hey so am I. Sometimes I'd get ambitious and attempt to recreate one of the fine desserts I'd tried the week prior from Chopin, now that usually went horribly wrong. Those fine desserts had inspired me one day to take a pastry-making class and learn a new skill. Unfortunately, pastry classes were far-and-few between in the small town of Perris, West Virginia.

I glanced back at my report of today's calls, 'geez', I thought, looking at the time spent on the last call, with Mrs. Plat, '103 minutes of my life I'll never get back.' It would be alright if I didn't have this headache from the call and a backache from sitting in the same position all day. A week of skipping desserts would probably do me some good anyhow. Maybe if I wasn't so top-heavy my bust could actually fit my Thanksgiving dress. I couldn't fit into any of my holiday clothes as it was and if I didn't do something about it I'd be stuck wearing business casual to all the family holiday events.

"Hiya Jenny," Calvin, my snotty manager, popped his head over my cubicle wall nearly giving me a heart attack, I was pretty lost in my thoughts. "I see you didn't meet today's call goal." He cocked his head to the said and pouted his lips. "We all have bad days Jen."

"It's alright Calvin, but you can call me Jennifer if that's OK." I was technically off the clock. I couldn't stand when he tried to talk to me off the clock. Calvin was getting on my last nerves.

"Corporate was hoping that you wanted the opportunity to meet your call goal today," Calvin made it sound like a question, but it was more of a statement. He started grinning at me and his head bobbed to the other side. My irritation grew. I calmed myself, knowing that he was gonna ask me to stay late.

"You think you'd like to stay late," he asked?

I didn't want to stay late at work, but if I was being truthful I didn't have much else going on. No dinner or evening plans, my agenda was wide open. If I stayed a couple of hours late I'd make a few extra dollars and then I wouldn't feel so guilty about my weekend plans, because if I was being honest with myself bonus or no bonus I was going shopping this weekend. "I could do that. Let me just get a little break in first and I'll start right back in it.