He hated to admit it to himself, but he was becoming more and more intrigued by Drew Carnevale.
Chapter Six
The next morning Drew hustled into the café, fifteen minutes late. When she hurried in, she saw that it was pretty busy. Her father was behind the register, and tapped a finger on his wrist to show that he had noticed she was late. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he waved her off. She smirked to herself and hung up her jacket and went into the back.
She normally would have had to be there at the crack of dawn to help Bunz with the day's baking and getting the store ready for its eight o'clock opening. But her parents had been so pleased when she'd taken the ballet teaching job that they had eagerly amended her schedule to let her come in late on Saturdays. They had been so happy that she'd revisited her one true passion from…before. Now, her mother helped Bunz with the baking in the early morning while her father tended to the registers, made the coffee¸ and completed general opening duties and dealt with the customers until Drew arrived. She personally liked for her parents to do as little around the café as possible. They were more like absentee landlords, and had bigger fish to fry with the apartment complex they owned, where Drew lived. Not only that, Drew wanted to prove that despite her recent traumatic turn of events, she was still smart, capable, and dependable. As a result, her parents came to the café once during the week, on Saturday mornings, and on Sundays when the place was closed after mass to go over the books and the registers and prepare the cash deposits for the next day.
Now that she had arrived, her parents assisted with the last of the late Saturday morning rush, peddling coffee and pastries to bleary-eyed college students, enterprising young professionals and the elderly who were out to take the early spring, albeit chilly, air. Once the crowd died down a bit, her mother and father kissed both her and Bunz good-bye and made to leave.
"We'll see you tomorrow for dinner," her mother said, and it was more of a threat than an invite. She allowed Drew's father to help her into her coat before pointing at Bunz. "You coming too, for once?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carnevale," Bunz said with true regret. "Not tomorrow. I have a huge paper due on Wednesday and it needs my full attention. Maybe next week, though."
"Fine," Mrs. Carnevale sighed, tossing her hand up in defeat. "I just worry about you not getting a good, hot meal in your belly. You college kids, you work too hard."
"Bye, Mom," Drew said, smiling and shaking her head. It was their typical parting routine on Saturdays.
"Bye, girls," her father called over his shoulder. "Be safe and make some money today, huh?"
"Yes, John," Drew called out. "Now go."
Bunz handed off a tray of freshly baked bigne to Drew to put out in the display case before turning her attention to some biscotti dough before her. Drew dutifully carried the tray out and began carefully placing each pastry in the case. She noticed that Bunz and her mother had been busy—there were several loaves of Italian bread, three different kinds of cupcakes, some whoopee pies filled with cannoli filling, and croissants. She knew they were all fresh.
As she finished with the tray, the lone college student huddled at a table in the corner approached the counter for a refill on her latte. Drew began measuring out the espresso and started the drip after adding the requested caramel flavoring, and began steaming the milk, humming to herself. The café would close at five and she had to be at Cliff's by eleven. She thought about going to the gym for a bit, then going home for a much needed nap.
She handed off the latte to the girl and grabbed the tray, taking it back into the kitchen. As she set it on the counter, she felt eyes on her and glanced up, seeing Bunz staring at her with a huge grin on her face.
"What, creepy?" she demanded but tempered her words with a smile.
"I have something for you," Bunz replied, and reached into her back pocket, pulling out what looked like a normal sheet of paper, folded in half. It was sealed with a Strawberry Shortcake sticker and had "SAM" written in marker on the front, accompanied by little doodles of hearts, flowers, and stars.
Drew took the paper with a smirk. "Is this your work?" she asked, gesturing to the doodles on the front.
"Yes, and I'll thank you to appreciate some artistic shit when it's in your face," Bunz replied, folding her arms. "Anyway, open it!"
Drew smiled, her dimples digging into her cheeks, and broke the sticker, unfolding the paper. Her eyes scanned the page, quickly seeing that it was a flyer.
"Pittsburgh Talent Showcase," the top of the flyer boasted. Her eyes dropped lower. It was an invitation for the best and brightest talents of Pittsburgh to come to the Benedum Center in the Cultural District two months from today's date. The showcase called for musicians, singers, spoken word poets, artists, and…dancers. There was further information on how and where to register as well as the cost to register for entering a piece for the showcase.