Less Money, More Love

Chapter 6: First Job

Rachel had almost managed to put her old life behind her, especially including her wedding. She had found a place to live and landed a job. That is, what was becoming old news to her was still of world interest. However, it was hard to take a surprise reminder about that old life when she looked at an article in a left-behind British tabloid about the rich and famous. “Billion-heiress and Teddy Bear King Postpone Merger Marriage", the headline read.

“Postponed?" She was intrigued and grateful. Her old life was now world news, but without her in it. She cautioned herself about seeking truth or comfort from a tabloid and threw it away.

“Good morning," Beatrice greeted her with the warmth and cheer of spring sunshine when Rachel came downstairs to the kitchen. “Are you hungry, or do you just want some cold cereal for a real life American style breakfast?"

She shook her head no to all of it and left for work.

Faye beat Rachel's arrival to open the cafe by mere moments. Once the doors were unlocked, alarm off, and lights on, she beckoned to her, “Rachel, I'm going to teach you the business. I've decided. I never had children and as a result no grandchildren, but from here on out I adopt you. You are my protégée."

The day's lesson from Faye was on smiling as a greeting and an easy although not effortless, silent form of customer service.

“I don't know what you are going through, Honey, but you have to learn to check your feelings at the door in this business. Some are kind customers who tip generously and some are so rude you wanna slap some sense into them, but they all have money to spend. We want them to spend as much as possible and as often as possible here. Clear?"

“Crystal," Rachel replied coolly.

Several times during the day she noticed Faye checking on her from a distance and smiling with pleasure at her protégée.

No one needed to know the truth about who Rachel was and where she had come from; her private boarding school and Ivy League education; and always being the one served instead of the one doing the serving. Her now, new life defied explanation or preparation, given her background and pedigree. But it was hers. She was not lowering herself. She was starting over.

Today once the breakfast rush was over, Faye checked in to see how Rachel thought she was doing on customer service.

“Okay. I'm doing okay."

“Good. Only you decide how much of yourself you agree to let them see or have access to. No one hurts you unless you let them do so. Control the experience, don't be controlled. Smile. Okay, enough pep talk, granddaughter. Let's have a quick tea break before they take theirs, okay?"

Rachel decided that Faye and Beatrice were great fairy godmothers in her new adventure. To stay strong and independent from her father's money and connections and the trust fund her late mother had left her, she would take each day, one day at a time, so as not to get overwhelmed. Warm, freshly baked bread, farmer's butter, and locally sourced honey with Darjeeling tea hit the spot, especially since she skipped breakfast with Beatrice.

“Thank you Faye."

The rest of the day zoomed by filled with smiles and service. Here and now, she was the agent, the protagonist, the creator in her story. She would not take the gift of building a new life lightly. She resolved that she would make it on her own based on who she was becoming or not at all because of who she used to be.

Faye was impressed with Rachel's knack for customer service and trusted her with the shop. So far Rachel had only worked as Faye's helper, and shone in this role. If she continued to work this well in the more technical aspects of the job, like operating the cash register and easy baking, then Faye could take a much needed day off.

The next day was better because her confidence was increasing in her new normal as bakery/cafe associate.

“Good morning Honey." Faye greeted Rachel who was waiting to be let into the shop.

“Good morning."

“You'll have to remind me to get you a set of keys and go over the security system. The code is simple. It's 'SWEET'."

Rachel smiled.

“Today, I'm going to train you on some of the more challenging aspects of the shop. Depending on how quickly you can learn and do them will dictate when I can leave you alone in the shop, responsible for the daily operations."

Rachel was worried. She had never worked before. She was unsure if she could make the cash register sing as she rang up orders or muti-task so that she could stay on top of ongoing baking tasks.

“I want you to have that time. You deserve it. But...I dunno if I can swing things smoothly on my own."

“Don't you worry. By the end of the day, both of us will have had a jolt of self-confidence, believe me; my confidence in you will grow and yours in your new role will increase with more experience, especially after dealing with the demands of the shop when it is busy. I will then give you the title of Assistant Manager and a small raise. How about that?"

“Wow," Rachel gushed, “but I've never had...I've never actually..."

“Never what, Honey?"

“I've never worked...in a bakery before." She left it at that, another truth artfully shared to cover up a more significant omission.

“That's okay. I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time. It's not like you never worked before," Faye laughed out loud at the thought. “Go ahead and grab an apron and I'll take you through everything that should happen in a regular day."

OMG. OMG. OMG. Rachel was not sure if she could be a trainable employee/assistant manager and quick enough study in this new, fast paced world of hot tea and breakfast biscuits.

Rachel was encountering the limits and challenges of working for a living beyond the fairy tale characteristics of her new life in Clovelly. She first fell in love with this village when it came to carving out her independence. But the white lies and dangerous omissions she told were causing that life to crumble before her eyes.

If only she could find a way to strengthen this insecure foundation. Her new responsibilities based on the expectations of others were filling in the cracks of her untruths. Any discomfort she felt at this moment was her own fault; she was overwhelmed purely due to her minimizing what she had not done or allowing assumptions about what she skillfully failed to say.

“Okay," she called from the back of the shop where the washer and dryer churned out cleanliness to maintain the quality service linens that set this bakery/cafe apart from some more substantial, industrial, multi-national, similar businesses.

“You look ready for action, Honey. Here's your job description to review and read and some other onboarding paperwork you can complete later once you get back to your room. Smile. It's not rocket science."

How did she ever think she was going to work in a bakery and just be responsible for smiling and shadowing but never actually baking or ringing up a sale? How foolish she was and how frightened she was becoming.

That day of working helped Rachel progress from awful to acceptable and almost finished with awesome. Almost. But she was still the new girl. At least one customer was dissatisfied and made it known at the top of her voice to the owner. Her name was Jane Jones. She was hard to miss or forget.

The young lady was determined to find fault and complain about her experience in the shop at the hands of the new girl, who mashed her raspberry and cheese-filled donut by carelessly setting a piping hot cup of Earl Grey tea on top of instead of next to it without properly or securely sealing the top, leading to a stage one mess all over her jacket, laptop bag, and the inside of her tote bag-sized purse.

“Faye, how can you expect me to go to my meeting with all of this mess? Why ever would you hire someone whose only skill is ineptitude? Did she get some B.S. degree in incompetence? I at least want an apology and a promise never to let it happen again. I come here every single day of the week and on the weekends. I spend about as much time as a part-time screw up like her does, and I could have done it better."

“This isn't right. Everyone makes mistakes," Rachel mumbled, no longer able to contain her anger or withhold her tongue and temper. After she served and rang up the last customer, Rachel marched from behind the counter where the cash register was to confront this disgruntled lady.

“Ma'am, I could not help but overhear that you were speaking to the manager about the lack of quality of service you felt I gave you. I apologize and would like to know what we can do to properly ensure that we don't lose you as a valued customer and make it up to you today."

“I am new and still learning. I do not feel that you should talk to anyone that way and especially about something as minor as my error. Everyone makes mistakes. But you are the customer, a loyal one, and I want you to know I am here to help serve you, but not to be your cafe servant or bakery slave."

Rachel was surprised she was able to stand up for herself like that.

Jane had never been spoken to like that. She responded with a more humble request after Rachel's slight very public humiliation of her. She probably expected to shame and hurt Rachel. And Rachel, although new to the world of work, was sure that addressing a customer the way she had talked to this woman was probably not the benchmark for the kind of customer service Faye had in mind or the woman had come to expect with her nasty attitude and, until then, her unchecked rude remarks.

“Black tea and a new pastry," she responded in a small quiet voice, following a few painfully silent moments after the confrontation.

“Pardon," Rachel said to her, her voice volume increasing with her self confidence level rising.

“Black tea and a new pastry, please."

“Okay." She left her to refill her order but never took her eyes off of Jane, a twentysomething attorney at law.

“Here you go. I put some extra cloth napkins in the bag. Just bring them back the next time you pop in. Again, apologies."

Faye and Rachel waited until the pit bull turned chihuahua silently left the store, and then, once alone together, with the morning rush and uncharacteristic customer rudeness well behind them, they gave each other high fives, then the bakery vigilante and the advocate-owner quietly returned to work with smiles on their faces and pride in their hearts.