Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“No, no,” I laugh. “I work at Frosty Freeze, an ice cream parlor in New Jersey, and the ice cream’s free when you’re on shift. So I’m having way too much of that and I need to stop. Or at least slow down so that I don’t consume ten gallons a week.”
Preston cocks his head at me.
“Okay, too much ice cream isn’t good for anyone, but Carolyn, for the record, I think your curves are gorgeous,” he says adamantly. “Definitely don’t change because the ten gallons look good on you.” I feel myself blush.
“Well, I just wish voluptuous women were more in style, but it seems that every magazine model is stick thin. It’s as if curves are a crime!”
Preston reaches across the table and serves me a slice of bread still hot from the oven.
“Well, I disagree,” he growls with his brows lowered. “You’re perfect the way you are, and you should eat ice cream. I consider it one of the major food groups myself.”
With a giggle, I cut into my steak, which is a perfect medium-rare. It’s pink on the inside, and when I stab into it with my fork, it’s tender, juicy, and just right. One bite makes me close my eyes with ecstasy and I literally let out a small moan.
“How do you like it?” Preston asks with a grin. My eyes fly open.
“It’s the best steak I’ve ever had.”
He smiles. “Good. Eat up because I love a woman that can clean her plate.”
I take another bite, this time of the potatoes, which are just as delicious as the steak. The outsides are crunchy and the insides are creamy and perfect without being overly moist. As we savor the food, I nod.
“I can see why you prefer your chef to a restaurant because this meal is to die for.”
The billionaire smiles. “I actually poached Sherrie from my old favorite restaurant when it closed down. She was looking for work, and I offered her a full-time position with me. Actually, she says that this is a lot less stressful than working in a professional kitchen.”
I nod.
“I can imagine so. After Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential came out, I was so shocked. I had no idea that those places were basically slave shops where people were physically punished for being too slow. I had no idea that the culture was so hardcore.”
Preston nods as he digs into his steak.
“But it’s not like that for you at Frosty Freeze, right?” he questions. “They don’t treat you like indentured labor, do they?” I shake my head.
“Oh no, of course not. First, because we don’t have a kitchen. The ice cream’s just delivered in huge plastic containers each week from corporate. But second, I really like my coworkers at Frosty Freeze, and we’re real friends, not just employees together on shift. It’s just that …”
One black brow rises.
“What is it sweetheart?”
I sigh. “Well, I got the position when I was in high school, and it was a part-time gig at first. My parents struggled with money quite a bit when I was growing up, and I wanted to contribute to the household bills. But it was never a serious thing or anything. I figured that after graduation I’d get a real job and quit Frosty Freeze.”
Preston nods thoughtfully.
“Makes sense. I take it that’s not what happened?”
I sigh and shake my head.
“No, not by a long shot. By the time I graduated, I’d already worked at Frosty Freeze for two years, so I was one of the more senior employees, believe it or not. It’s a summer job for most people, so most people are only temporary, and management decided to give me a raise as an incentive to stay. Not only that, but they offered me a position as an associate, and it was for a decent amount of money with benefits, so I stuck around. Now, I’ve been with Frosty Freeze for almost six years, if you can believe it. I’m twenty-four and I’m still working my high school job,” is my rueful comment.
Preston nods thoughtfully.
“So you feel stuck?”
I sigh. “Sometimes,” I admit. “But it’s not like it’s all bad. I do enjoy working in an ice cream parlor, and I’m good at it too. Plus, I like our product. I can eat my body weight in ice cream if given a chance, and adore milkshakes, sundaes and the specials we offer. The customers are great, too. We have some regulars that I’ve bonded with, and I always look forward to seeing the kids.”
Preston smiles. “I’m sure they love you.”
I smile and nod. “Yes, because being the one who dishes out ice cream makes me very popular with children, as you can expect! But I guess I just thought I’d be doing a little more with my life by now, you know? Sure, I’m in charge, but being a manager of an ice cream parlor doesn’t mean much. It’s like saying I manage a Burger King or Chuck E. Cheese.”