Mischa Lecter (sweetestheart) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-03-02 11:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | eros, mischa lecter |
Who: Mischa Lecter & Eron Fletcher
When: March 3rd, 6:00 PM
Where: Mischa's bakery shop
What: Eron's pre-employment meeting
Rating/Warning: Low and none
Status: In-progress
Mischa had overall been pleased with the last few days that her terrible dreams were pushed aside by the liveliness of her days. Since the Flower Gala word of mouth had increased the small bakery’s business that by the time closing came all the special cake orders had all been picked up much to the delight of the brides and grooms and parents alike and there was scarcely anything left in the display cases and walk-in freezer come six o’clock. The rush had driven home two facts into Mischa’s head: One, she needed to make more daily to satisfy the greater demand. Two, all this running back and forth between the front counter and the kitchen wasn't feasible. Try as she might, Mischa couldn't physically be in two places at once. She needed to hire on help to man the front that would enable her to be able to keep up with the work in the kitchen. Lastly, Mischa needed to utilize the front space more to display more of the delicious baked goods.
Fortunately, Kili and his brother would be start building and installing the desired number of display cases and shelves to make this happen soon (and wouldn’t destroy her shop in the process) and a local college student and burgeoning harpist, Eron Fletcher would be manning the front leaving Mischa’s free to work in the kitchen. She didn't mind the prospect of sacrificing a cake or two and the occasional meal to Kili and his brother while they worked as cooking for others put a real smile on blond chef pretty face. Nor did sharing a slice of her counter space for Eron to advertise and hopefully capitalize on the thriving wedding business, there was more than enough wealth and good fortune to go around and Mischa was glad to share it with the talented youth. She hoped everything would work out.
As Mischa stood behind the counter, the very picture of tired but content chef, taking this quiet moment to review her extensive notes and accompanying sketches for next week’s wedding cakes orders and silently calculate the amount of each baked good she would need to make in the morning before teaching class. All the while, she absently nibbles on a chocolate croissant in substitution for a long-neglected dinner, when the silver bells above ring, prompting her all too serious blue green eyes to glance up with a pink smile to warm her pretty porcelain face.