Page 5 of Winning Her

Immediately, I cut the line, because I didn’t want to hear whatever else she had to say. As much as I hadn't wanted to go back, I knew…

It’s time.

2

Jessi

I hummed to myself as I moved through my space. The kitchen in the Charlotte branch of the Thompson Hotel chain was quite spacious, but with so many people working in it, it could feel pretty crowded at times.

It was a working environment I’d had to grow used to, but it was one I enjoyed thoroughly.

As usual, I had my phone in one of my pockets, my earbuds in, cords under my work clothes, and I was making another of my specialties.

Working as a pastry chef wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Working as a pastry chef at one of the best-known hotels in the country was even harder. It was pretty demanding, and there was no room for mistakes. But I’d proven myself when I was hired, and I’d become one of the top pastry chefs in the Thompson Hotels.

I was just finishing the layout for one of my cakes. Everyone else went about their own business at their own workstations, and no one bothered me as I worked.

Well, no one but my mother anyway.

The call was unexpected enough to startle me, and I glanced around to make sure no one had noticed. The calm music I was listening to was suddenly the loud song I’d set as my ringtone. I checked my phone, and sure enough, her name was right there.

She was the only person that still called me during work hours. But she was my mom, so I could hardly tell her to stop calling me, no matter how distracting it got. I hurried through the parts that couldn’t wait, before picking up the call just before it was dropped.

“What can I help you with, Mom?” I asked, not leaving out the exasperation from my voice.

“Did I distract you from work again?” It was always her first sentence when I’d answer a call.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but if I did it every time my mom asked the same question, my eyes would ache in their sockets.

“It’s fine, Mom. What did you call me for?”

I glanced at the work I’d done so far, mentally going through what I would need to do to have a perfect standing cake in front of me. After that came the slicing, then the decorating.

“Honey,” Mom said, voice turning conspiratorial, catching my attention. “You’ll never believe what happened. It’s just horrible! Mr. Thompson had a heart attack!”

I gasped, my mind now fully on my mom’s news. It was huge. It had been a while since I’d seen Mr. Thompson in person but it was hard to imagine he’d had a heart attack. He’d always seemed larger than life, even when I got to see a side of him most wouldn’t see.

“When did it happen?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed.

The last thing I needed was someone getting curious about what I was talking about. None of my coworkers knew the background I had with the Thompsons, and I didn’t want to make waves where I worked.

“I’m not sure, but it couldn’t have been that long ago. All the sons are finally coming home to see their father’s condition. If we want more information, it would have to come after that.”

Wait… what? The Thompson sons were all coming back to Charlotte?

“I’m sorry, Mom, but what did you say?” I asked slowly, wishing she would say something other than what she’d said.

“Mr. Thompson's sons are all coming back home,” she repeated carelessly, not aware of how each word dug into my heart like an ice pick. “Isn’t that wonderful, honey? I was starting to get worried about that man left in that big house with just his daughter to look after him.”

No, Mom. It’s not wonderful. It’s the exact opposite.

I thought the words but didn’t dare say them out to my mother in case she asked me why. Because that was something I couldn’t tell her. There was little of my life that I hadn't told my mom about, but this was one thing I’d thought best to keep to myself. I wanted the moment to have never happened, and I’d tried to live acting as if it hadn't.

And what did she mean about Mr. Thompson being lonely? It was a big house, sure, but it was full of servants that saw to the man’s every need.

My parents had been in that position all of my life, servants to one of the richest men in the world.

“Um, look, Mom. I need to be getting back to work, alright? I don’t want anything to burn. I’ll talk to you when I get off?”