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[Not Another Cinderella Story Masterlist] • [Membership Stories]
The movement at Maison du Lavien was slower than usual and the main culprit was the weather. When Tudal got cloudy weather, tourists were advised to stay indoors, because once the rain started, it would soak them to their bones, and they would have nowhere to protect themselves.
Miriam moved through the different tables at a steady pace, smiling and chatting with the few tourists who had ventured out of their hotel rooms for their morning breakfast or who simply weren’t aware of the cloudy weather advice. In most cases, it ended up being beneficial to them since they spent less time waiting in the outside queue, and they could stay inside for a while longer. Miriam could also indulge in some more conversation with them.
It always fascinated her the diversity of answers she got when she asked what brought people to Tudal. Some said it was its history, others its landscapes. Some even mentioned some of the old folklore that very few people knew about, while others merely came for the view, food, and status associated with the country.
She had a good discernment to figure out in which categories these tourists belonged. It wasn’t just in the way they dressed or how they talked to one another. It was also how they spoke to her and the kind of questions they asked her. Nothing made her happier than to see people excited about Tudal and eager to explore it further. She was only disappointed by those who saw her country as a mere photo background for a social media post and nothing more.
As she wiped one of the recently emptied tables, Paul stepped out of the kitchen, his gaze falling on her. He gestured with his head to the kitchen area and she nodded, grabbing the dirty dishes, cups and cutlery, and joined him beyond the kitchen doors.
“He’s in the office,” Levi said to her, tugging the tray from her hands. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Do you know what it is about?” she asked.
Levi walked towards the commercial dishwasher, not answering her question. Miriam sighed and fixed her uniform before knocking on Paul’s office door and stepping inside.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” He nodded, his expression stern. “Please, close the door and have a seat.”
Miriam nodded and sat on the only other chair available in Paul’s office. Before being an office, this used to be a storage room where most of the dry ingredients were stored. Now, with how the contracts with suppliers were drawn out, Maison du Lavien received a new shipment of most ingredients almost every day, which didn’t require them to be stored for long. As business grew, it was necessary to add an office to keep track of expenses and other business matters, and that was when this room was turned into the office.
It was a cosy space with several photos hanging on the walls of Paul and other head bakers throughout the decades the Bakery had been running. One photo in particular stood out to Miriam. It was of Paul, a few years ago, his moustache darker and his figure thinner, and two other people, one under each of his arms as he wrapped them around their shoulders. There was a young man with green eyes and a charismatic smile, his focus on the young woman on the other side, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail while she smiled at the camera. In the background, if Miriam squinted her eyes, she could make out the shape of the Eiffel Tower.
“I noticed your siblings didn’t come for breakfast today,” Paul said, fixing his glasses on the tip of his nose.
“Yes,” Miriam said, focusing her attention back on him. “Since I started my shift a bit later today I decided to have breakfast with them at home.”
Miriam also wanted to make sure that Vivianne took her medication before she headed to work.
“Do you think that is something you can do moving forward?” he asked.
Miriam blinked, adjusting herself on her chair. “What do you mean?”
Paul briefly lifted his gaze from the papers he was signing and focused on Miriam. “Yesterday, I received complaints about your siblings. Customers were not happy with how they behaved, and they made it known to several people. Besides that, what happened in the kitchen was disrespectful to the entire staff. We have rules in place for a reason, Miriam. I think I’m already doing enough for you to disrespect me and your coworkers this way.”
It took a while for Paul’s words to register in Miriam’s mind. “Oh,” she eventually said. “So you’re saying that I can no longer have my siblings here for breakfast.”
“Not exactly.” Paul cleared his throat and removed his glasses, massaging his eyes. “What I am saying is that you can’t have your siblings here for the time being.”
“You mean they can’t even step inside the Bakery?” Miriam stared at Paul, incredulous. “Why? They’re not bad kids. They— They bicker every once in a while, but they’re not throwing food or bothering customers. Paul,” she moved to the edge of her chair, closer to the desk, “I understand that what happened yesterday was inexcusable but I ask you to rethink this through. I will talk with them, I will ask them to be more conscious of the people around them, but I need them to have breakfast here.”
“You said they had breakfast at home today,” he said.
“That was only because I started my shift an hour later. I can’t do that every day. I need to work as many hours as possible. You know that too. I’m the only one earning a wage in my household and—”
He raised a hand and shook his head. “I’ve heard enough, Miriam. I have done a lot for longer than most people would. I think it’s time you tell Oscar that he is old enough to take care of his younger brother. You can certainly teach him how to use the toaster and the microwave. He’s sixteen. He’s not a child anymore.”
Miriam pursed her lips, clutching her fingers into fists on her lap. So this was the price she had to pay for yesterday. It felt like a kick to the stomach, followed by a series of shoving her head in a bucket of cold water. This wasn’t just bad. This was a nightmare.
“I need to see them have breakfast, Paul.” Miriam pleaded with her eyes. “I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I had any other solution, and you know that.”
Paul shook his head and put his glasses back on. “It was either this or I would have to fire you for misconduct. You can’t keep stretching the thread and expect it not to break. This is the best scenario. I am doing you a favour.”
“Right.” She chuckled. “A favour. Thank you for your generosity.”
Miriam couldn’t help but sound bitter, she couldn’t help but feel angry at this predicament. She understood where Paul was coming from, but she knew this hadn’t been his decision. He had been the person to offer her this job, he had been the person who suggested Oscar and Elliot had breakfast in the main room. This wasn’t his doing. What upset her the most was that he couldn’t even look her in the eyes, he couldn’t even be honest with her.
If this was truly Paul’s doing, then she wouldn’t be so upset about it because he would explain his arguments reasonably. He always did so. But this was Levi’s influence, Levi’s doing. He simply couldn’t stand when people showed her compassion. It was devastating.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Paul said. He took a deep breath and pursed his lips, keeping his eyes on the papers on his desk. “We’re removing the old oven to replace it with new refrigerators. This means that you’ll stop having a working space for your occasional freelance baking job. I suggest you find someplace else to pursue that passion of yours since you won’t be able to continue doing it here.”
Miriam wasn’t sure if she should laugh, cry, scream or do all three at the same time. This wasn’t just a kick in the stomach followed by shoving her head in a bucket full of ice. This was what it felt like to be burned alive, she was sure. The rage inside of her built to the surface, a heat that she allowed to escape with each deep breath she took as her eyes focused on the cracks of the ceiling, trying to calm down.
Things had been good for too long. She was getting used to a sense of goodness around her, and this was what happened when she got comfortable. Someone always pulled the rug from under her feet. It was humiliating.
“Please, don’t fire me,” she whispered, blinking away her blurry vision. “I know I sometimes cross a line, but this is all I have right now. I can’t lose this job. I don’t ask for a lot, and when I do, it’s because I need it, Paul. So let me ask you this.” She looked at him. “Stand up for me when Levi tries to turn you against me. I know he’s your son, but I’d expect you to know me well enough to know that I am not half of the things he says I am. Again, I’m sorry I was unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope it won’t. But if it does, Miriam, I won’t be able to protect you. I’m not staying in this position for much longer,” Paul said and gestured with his head to the door. “I’m giving you a twenty-minute break so you can regroup yourself. Then, get back to work.”
“Of course.”
As soon as Miriam left Paul’s office, she slipped into the staff room and washed her face in the restroom. She stared at her reflection, unable to feel anything. Other than a wave of disappointment in herself, all her emotions had fled her body the day her father passed. Now, she was merely on autopilot, stuck between fight and flight, unable to take a deep breath and rest.
This was merely another problem to add to her pile of never-ending issues. It would take her a lifetime to solve all of them, but she hoped that slowly, she would be able to get through them.
Miriam opened her locker, grabbed her jacket and phone and left Maison du Lavien through the backdoor. She leaned on the wall and took a deep breath as the cold greeted her cheeks, her eyes focused on the dark clouds in the sky. It would start to rain at any moment, and she had forgotten to pack an umbrella for work. Great. What else is there to happen to me?
Before her reality could collapse any more, she grabbed her phone from the pocket of her apron and narrowed her eyes at the messages and missed calls on the screen.
Zoe: Just gave your contact info to the client! They will call you ASAP.
Zoe: Are you there? Can they call?
Zoe: I’m telling them to call you either way.
Zoe: Please, reply to this when you see my messages.
Zoe: They said you didn’t pick up. Call them as soon as you see these messages!! Their request is urgent, so you need to get on it ASAP!!
Zoe: And I think you’ll like this. I am rooting for you.
Zoe: Call them, Miriam. Please!!
The messages spanned an hour, and she had received the last one almost twenty minutes ago. Besides three missed calls by Zoe, Miriam also had a missed call from an unknown number. It was not hard to guess who it might belong to.
Miriam took a deep breath, pondering her options. She didn’t have a kitchen to bake at anymore, so she should just call it quits. She should tell Zoe she appreciated her help, but that this was no longer working for her, that she was no longer freelancing as a baker or a cake decorator. It would be easier, right? To turn her back on the thing she loved the most, on one of the few things in her life she still did because of the joy it brought her. It was only joy. She could get that elsewhere, right?
Wrong. Nothing had ever filled Miriam’s soul quite like baking. Everything, from the choice of ingredients to their combination, to their final tasting; it all brought so much joy to Miriam that she could not turn her back on it. It was the only thing that was keeping her sane.
She pressed the number on her screen and waited until someone picked up on the other side. Her heart jumped in her chest and she paced around the back of the bakery, looking over her shoulder towards the entrance to make sure she was alone.
Everyone inside those doors thought of her as a mere waitress, and she’d like to keep it that way. The last thing she needed right now was to be mocked for a dream she had, for a dream she almost fulfilled to its extreme.
Life always had different plans for Miriam. She was always close enough, but not quite.
The static picked up on the other side of the call. “Yes?” an old, rich, female voice spoke. “Who is this?”
“This is Miriam Barton. I had a missed call from this number…”
“Oh! Yes, yes. I’m sorry, I don’t have your number saved on my phone yet. This is Elisa Genet. I’m not sure if Zoe told you about me, but she spoke very highly of you and your baking skills, and I couldn’t help but ask for your number.”
The woman let out a nervous laugh on the other side, and that relaxed Miriam slightly.
“She did mention you were considering hiring me for a job. Did I get that right?”
“Yes. That’s exactly why I called.” She cleared her throat. “I am throwing a small party and I wanted someone who could prepare me some bite-sized pastries and cakes for this special event. I considered hiring from Maison du Lavien, but their quality is no longer on par with my standards, and with the way Zoe spoke of you, I believe you are the answer to my problems!”
No pressure, then. As much as Miriam was very appreciative that her friend always spoke highly of her to whoever would be willing to listen, this also meant that people came to her with higher expectations than they would otherwise have. It was a double-edged sword, and Miriam wasn’t at all happy to be in this situation. Especially because the space she used to have to prepare these orders was no longer available to her, and preparing them at home was out of the question as it was renting an industrial kitchen for the time being.
“I think the best way for you to know whether or not I am the right person for you is if I prepare some samples for you to try, free of charge, of course. Then, we could discuss the menu, payment and other sorts of arrangements as well. I—” she bit her lower lip, “The space I used to prepare most of my orders is no longer available, so I might take a while to find a replacement for it. If you’d be okay with it, I could prepare the samples in a normal kitchen. Their quality would not be compromised in any way, but I know some clients are not okay with that, and I want to be as honest as I can with you upfront.”
Miriam’s heart was pounding in her chest. She pursed her lips and kicked some small rocks in the alley to entertain herself. For some reason, waiting for this woman’s answer was excruciatingly painful. This was a small ray of light, and by the looks of it, it was dimming and fading by the second.
“I love that idea!” Elisa said, excited. “I was just consulting my schedule for the next few days to see when I would be available to discuss this with you… Do you think you could get them ready by tomorrow? Does five sound good to you? That way I could sample them while having some tea. It sounds wonderful already.”
It didn’t sound as wonderful to Miriam, though. She could get them ready by tomorrow, but she would have to skip on sleeping, not to mention that it was too last-minute for Miriam to ask her neighbour to keep an eye on her siblings while she was gone. Besides, there was also the matter of the kitchen. Since Elisa hadn’t mentioned anything, Miriam was going to assume she was okay with Miriam preparing them in a regular kitchen.
“Do you have any other availability?” Miriam asked. “Maybe during the weekend? My day job is not compatible with that schedule, I’m afraid.”
This tended to be how many of these opportunities fell short for her. When schedules didn’t align, people gave up on her services. If she couldn’t adapt to them, it was over. There was no way they were willing to adapt to her, either. She was supposed to be providing a service, she was supposed to mould herself to them and their needs. It didn’t matter if what Zoe said about her was good. If she couldn’t deliver, she was out.
Miriam stopped, focusing on the main road a few steps away. Maybe there was a way to salvage this. But if it didn’t work, then she would be in serious trouble.
“I could ask Zoe to deliver them on my behalf,” Miriam said. “You could have them with your tea, and then I could meet you after I’m done with work for us to discuss the specifics. Would you be willing to do that?”
“Yes, yes. Whatever works best for you.” Miriam sighed in relief. “I am on a bit of a tight deadline, otherwise I would meet you during the weekend. But tomorrow is my only availability, and I don’t mind your suggestion. I’m free after five, so you can stop by whenever you’re free from work.”
“Thank you.” Miriam smiled. “I’m very glad you don’t mind doing it this way.”
“Not a problem. I am quite curious about what you have to present to me, so I am willing to adapt. Besides, I trust Zoe’s judgement. If she says you’re a good baker, then I believe her. Although, I have to try it myself before the jury is officially out.” She chuckled. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to text you my address and a couple of the tiny pastries I’d like you to prepare for me. If you have any other suggestions, I will gladly have them. Then tomorrow, once you’re off work, you text me and let me know you’re on your way. Does that sound okay?”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Great, then! It was wonderful to chat with you, Miriam. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow!”
“Likewise. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When Miriam hung up the call, she couldn’t help but giggle in delight. Yes, this wasn’t much, and yes, the hardest part was yet to come, but it was a step in a good direction, and she wanted to celebrate this small victory.
“You seem happy for someone who almost got fired.”
Of course, celebrating would have to wait until she was alone again or at home. Levi leaned on the wall and grabbed a cigarette, placing it between his lips before lighting it. He blew out the smoke, his eyes still on her, as if expecting her answer. This morning, she wasn’t giving him any of it.
“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” she said, maintaining her distance from him. “That way, you could finally have the bakery all to yourself.”
“The bakery is mine, Miriam.” Levi chuckled. He blew out another cloud of smoke. “And you’re just a waitress. It’s all you’ll ever be.”
“To you, yes.” She shrugged. “To someone else, I might be more.”
“Keep dreaming,” he said in a mocking tone. “If I were you, I would start looking for a job somewhere else.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I am warning you.” His movements were relaxed as he smoked, but his eyes did not waver from sinking into hers. “Once I’m the head of this place, I won’t have space for you here. It’s only a matter of time before my father gives me what is rightfully mine.”
“I am not your competition. There’s no need for you to fire me,” she said. “Isn’t what you’re doing enough? What do you have against me, Levi?”
It was frustrating that the friendship they once had turned into this. Levi used to be someone whom Miriam genuinely cared for, someone she genuinely liked to be around. Now, he was just a pesky man holding onto whatever prestige or power came his way. And when he felt threatened, he attacked.
Even though Miriam hadn’t graduated culinary school and he had, the fact she had always been above him still followed him around.
“I have nothing against you,” he said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and crushing it. He picked it up again and threw it in the trash. “I’m just tired of playing charity, you know. I’m not my father.”
She nodded. Miriam couldn’t agree more. Paul was a kind man, someone who genuinely wanted to help her from the goodness of his heart. Levi couldn’t stand that. He couldn’t stand that his father showed an ounce of concern towards her.
“I hope you never have to go through what I am going through,” she said. “I mean that, Levi.”
“Sure,” he said, opening the back room. Before he stepped inside, he glanced at Miriam one last time. “I hope it all goes well with that meeting you have tomorrow.”
He stepped inside and the door closed behind him. Miriam took a deep breath as she looked at the sky, noticing the clouds getting darker. She should head inside soon, too. Her break was almost over anyway.
Before that, however, she had to make one last phone call.
“Finally!” Zoe said as soon as she picked up. “You have no idea how stressed I was that you weren’t picking up. Is everything alright? Did you speak with Elisa?”
“I did.” She nodded. “I think it went well.”
“Think?”
“Yeah.” Miriam pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “I’m going to need you to help me, though.”
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