InsaneJournal

Who: Melinda Bobbin (and open, though it works as a standalone, too)
What: After the last cake of the year
Where: Sweet Nothings
When: December 31, after closing time
Rating: SFW


Melinda was still smiling when she closed her journal. Last cake of the year had been picked up, and tomorrow was the first day of her two weeks off, before the real work with the make-over of the patisserie began. At least for her. The people doing the renovations on the place would start on Monday, but that only required approvals from her, no actual work.

No actual work…

Melinda stopped. Work was what had kept her going the past weeks. Work was what had kept the thoughts of and longing for Oliver bearable. Work was what had made her feel like she could actually do this, but now? Now the last cake of the year had been picked up and tomorrow was the first day of her two weeks off. Tonight was the party at Wingbeats, with the sexy dresses, the high heels, the make-up, the drinks, the champagne (or at the very least; sparkling wine)… the kisses at midnight.

Overwhelmed – and at the same time grateful that she had sent everybody else home for the day – she leaned against the freezer and let herself slide down until she was sitting on the floor. There was a pain in her chest that she hadn’t… no, she had noticed it before, she had just ignored it, and now it was there at full force, suffocating her and forcing the tears to her eyes. It was stupid. So incredibly stupid. Since when had she cared about stupid kisses at midnight? Or who to toast with when the new year began? This wasn’t her first New Year’s Eve as a single witch. She agreed with Marietta – and loved her just a little bit more for pointing it out to her – that she didn’t need a man. She didn’t. She really didn’t. She didn’t even miss a man, but bloody hells she missed Oliver, and she had missed him for a long time. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how what they had had could have affected her so deeply, so fast, only to unravel and evaporate even faster. It blew her mind that it had even happened, that she could have felt this much for him, and now all she wanted to know was where it all had disappeared off to.

Apparently hers hadn’t disappeared at all, she mused as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her chef’s coat, not caring one bit about hygiene regulations or even proper conduct while in the kitchen. None of it mattered, she figured, burying her face in the crook of her elbow and just gave in. Right now, unfortunately, she had the time. Another twenty minutes and it would be a different matter. In twenty minutes she had to at least be upstairs so she could get ready for the party tonight, though right now, partying was the last thing she felt like doing.