Shelby’s eyebrows raised at Jane’s comment. There wasn’t a line either, so she felt okay keeping up the conversation. “You’re a cop?” Duh. She’d just said that. Shelby gave an apologetic expression. “Oh my god, forget I said that. I’m not usually dumb.” She placed both her hands on the counter and tried to relax again. At least she didn’t embarrass easily, so she knew she wasn’t tomato red at the faux pas.
“We used to have a lot of the cops in Boston stop into the shop. There was nothing official, but my Gram always said that we were the city favorite.” Her Gram would probably be entertained later when Shelby told her they had their first law enforcement officer not even a few hours into being open. “I’m sure the other doughnut shops would have disputed that, though.” She caught herself with a small laugh and a shake of her head. Her customers didn’t want to hear about food favoritism.
“Anyway, I’m Shelby.” She pointed at the nametag pinned to her apron. “And you should probably just take a lap around the police department with that bag, to make them extra jealous. Then send them our way.” Shelby hadn’t had to do so much promotion… well ever, really. Her Gram had been established in Boston before Shelby was in a sparkle in her parents eye, and they’d opted out of opening anything in Des Moines.
“We run specials sometimes for civil servants,” she added. “I don’t know what the schedule is yet for that, though.”