The Fluffy Pastry

My name is Wendy Scott, and I've been working as a helper in the Pastry Department at Joy Restaurant for three years.
My colleagues say I'm slow-tempered, like a gentle little deer, with hardly any anger.
That afternoon, the restaurant owner, Leo Clark, suddenly called me into his office.
The scent of cigars lingered in the office. He leaned against the leather sofa, fingers tapping on the desk, eyes flickering with impatience.
"Wendy, the restaurant's profits aren't doing well this year. You're a senior employee, so you need to lead by taking a pay cut."
As he spoke, I glanced at the new watch on his wrist, feeling somewhat stunned.
Joy Restaurant is packed every single day. Last month he even bought a new yacht—so how could the profits be bad?
But I didn't dare ask. Instead, I thought about Chef Lee's fluffy pastry—soft and fragrant, just like the ones my mother used to make.
To be able to eat fluffy pastry every day, I nodded. "Alright, I have no problem with that."
Seeing that I was so easy to talk to, Leo Clark's expression softened a bit, but then his wife, Mary Lewis, suddenly spoke up.
"Let me say it."
She wore bright red nail polish and carried a limited-edition bag, her tone dripping with disdain.
"The Pastry Department has switched to pre-made pastries now; they no longer need helpers."
"You eat so many fluffy pastries every day; the restaurant really can't afford it. Why don't you go do odd jobs at the fast food place across the street?"
I froze, clutching the edge of my clothes, barely able to believe my ears.
She spends tens of thousands on a single beauty treatment, and her pet dog's monthly expenses exceed my entire salary—yet she can't afford someone like me who earns 3,000 a month?
Could it really be that I ate too much fluffy pastry?
I bit my lip, realizing I might never taste Chef Lee's fluffy pastry again, and a sharp sadness welled up inside me.
"Fine..." I whispered.
I spoke softly and turned to leave, but someone grabbed my arm.
It was Shirley Lincoln, a Front Desk attendant and my closest work buddy.
She has a quick temper. Whenever she sees me wronged, she can't hold back.
"Leo! Don't you have any conscience?"
Shirley pointed right at Leo's nose, her voice loud and clear, so sharp it almost hurt my ears.
"Two years ago, when the restaurant was on the brink of collapse, she filmed Chef Lee making fluffy pastry, posted it online and saved the restaurant."
"And now that you're making money, you just throw her aside?"
Leo's face flushed dark red from the scolding. He slammed his hand on the table, stood up, and snapped, "My restaurant's affairs are none of your business."
“If you want to be the heroine, then get out with her!”
Shirley Lincoln glared, tore off her badge, and slammed it onto Leo Clark's face with a sharp smack.
“Fine then. I don’t want to work here.”
She pulled me along as we walked out, and when we reached the parking lot, she made sure to key the tires of Leo Clark's new yacht.
She went around to the backyard again and totally messed up Mary Lewis's beloved dog's fur.
I watched her, all huffy and out of breath, and couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Shirley Lincoln and I started working together. She was quick, I was slow, but somehow we just clicked.
We often hid out together in the pantry, snacking and venting about difficult guests. We became each other's most reliable support.
She once said that if I ever quit, she would definitely leave with me.
Back then, I thought she was just joking, but I never expected she would actually do it.
On the way, Shirley's phone rang. It was her mother saying they were almost out of medicine at home.
After hanging up, Shirley's eyes were a little red as she quietly told me, “My mom has been bedridden for years, and it's only my modest salary that pays for her medicine.”
I listened with a heavy heart, feeling guilty. If it weren't for me, she wouldn't have lost her job.
I thought for a moment and said to her, "Shirley, why don't you work at my brother's restaurant?"
"My brother, Calvin Scott, opened a Michelin restaurant. He's way more reliable than Leo Clark."
Shirley paused for a moment, her eyes instantly lighting up. "Your brother runs a Michelin restaurant? Wendy, why have you never told me?"
I scratched my head, feeling a little embarrassed. "You never asked, either."
We took a taxi to Calvin's Food. The moment we stepped inside, Shirley was stunned by the restaurant's decor.
Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, waiters neatly dressed in suits—every detail radiated elegance.
Calvin Scott was in his office going over the menu. When he saw me, he furrowed his brow. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at the restaurant?"

I told him everything that had happened. After hearing me out, his expression darkened. "That bastard Leo Clark—how dare he bully my sister?"
He turned to Shirley Lincoln, his tone softening a bit. "If you don't mind, come work at the front desk as a supervisor. Your salary will be twice what it was before."
Shirley nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Mr. Scott! I'll work very hard!"
Just then, my phone rang, and the caller ID showed Leo Clark.
I thought he was going to yell at us for slashing tires or something crazy, hesitated for a moment, but still answered the call.
On the other end, Leo Clark's furious roar almost burst my eardrums: "Wendy Scott! You actually made the Global Jewelry Association cancel the tea break partnership! Are you out of your mind?"
That's when I remembered that, a month ago, my dad, Ben Scott's jewelry company, had won the tea break contract for the International Jewelry Summit.
It was supposed to be an open tender, but I told my dad that Chef Lee at Joy Restaurant made excellent pastries, so he gave me the chance to hand the contract over to the restaurant.
I even took the time to share Chef Lee's process of making the fluffy pastry on my social media to bring in customers for the restaurant.
I never expected to be dismissed before our cooperation was even signed.
I said seriously into the phone, "Mr. Clark, didn't you say the restaurant's performance was poor and it was about to close down?"
"How can a restaurant on the brink of closing take on such an important Tea Break Order? I was just being honest with the association."
Leo Clark's voice trembled with anger: "When did I ever say we were closing? That's an eight-million order!"
"You'd better call the association and explain that you were talking nonsense before!"
I thought it over, then said again, "But Mary Lewis said that from now on, the Pastry Department will only use pre-made pastries."
"The tea break for the Jewelry Summit can't possibly use pre-made pastries, right?"
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then the call abruptly ended.
Before hanging up, Leo Clark spat out a harsh warning: "Wendy Scott, if you don't help me get the order back, I'll make sure you can't stay in the industry!"
I smiled and thought, if I can't make it, then so be it.
Besides, my monthly salary of three thousand isn't even as much as the pocket money my Dad gives me.
These past three years working at the restaurant have all been for Chef Lee's fluffy pastry.
Shirley Lincoln heard everything clearly beside me, rolled up her sleeves, and was ready to confront Leo Clark: "That bastard actually dared to threaten you! I’ll give him a beating!"
I quickly held her back, rubbing my stomach: "I'm hungry. Let's eat something first."
Shirley burst out laughing and nodded: "You're right, it's not worth getting angry at him. Let's enjoy some good food first!"
During the meal, Shirley asked me curiously, "Wendy, your family is so well-off, so why are you still working as a helper in the restaurant?"
I put down my chopsticks and thought about my mother.
My mother passed away when I was in elementary school. She was best at making fluffy pastry, and every time I came home from school, there was always a warm plate of fluffy pastry on the table.
After that, I never tasted anything like it again until three years ago, when I tried Chef Lee's fluffy pastry at Joy Restaurant.
The taste was exactly the same as my mother's.
I tried to get close to Chef Lee, hoping to learn how to make fluffy pastry from him or at least buy the recipe.
But Chef Lee said this is his family's secret recipe; it can't be shared.
I had no choice but to take a helper job at the restaurant, thinking at least I could enjoy fluffy pastry every day.
I told Shirley this, and after hearing me out, her eyes welled up: "So that's why."
Just then, Shirley's phone rang again; it was a call from her former colleague.
After hanging up, Shirley excitedly told me, "Wendy! Leo's gone crazy! He actually fired Chef Lee!"
"He said Chef Lee's salary was too high. Now they're using pre-made pastries. Keeping Chef Lee is just a waste of money!"
I was stunned, nearly dropping my chopsticks to the floor.
Two years ago, when Joy Restaurant was on the brink of collapse, it was my video of Chef Lee making the fluffy pastry that drew a massive crowd and revived the restaurant.
Leo Clark firing Chef Lee now is like tearing down the Great Wall with his own hands.
Shirley Lincoln, seeing that I remained silent, tugged at my arm. “Wendy Scott! Chef Lee's out of work now—why not bring him over to Calvin's Food?”
“That way, not only can you enjoy fluffy pastry every day, but you might even get the secret recipe!”
"Besides, we could also take on the tea break orders for the Jewelry Summit ourselves!"
My eyes lit up—I thought Shirley made a lot of sense.

I told Calvin Scott about the idea, and he immediately agreed: "I know Chef Lee's skills. Having him on board means we've hit the jackpot."
That same day, we went to find Chef Lee.
When he heard we wanted to invite him to the Michelin restaurant and let him handle the tea break orders, he agreed without hesitation.
Originally, I wanted to quietly handle the tea break orders without letting My Dad know, so he wouldn't nag me again.
I never expected Leo Clark to actually spread rumors about us online.
That morning, when I opened my phone, I saw a trending topic: #Joy Restaurant Employee Fired for Seducing Restaurant Owner#.
When I clicked on it, all the posts were from Leo Clark.
He claimed that when Shirley Lincoln and I were working at the restaurant, we deliberately tried to seduce him, and he only fired us after discovering it.
Although the photos in the posts were pixelated, anyone who knows us could immediately recognize us.
The comments below were even more disgusting.
"She looks so quiet, but turns out she's so disgusting!"
"Not working properly at your job, just thinking about shortcuts."
"Maybe her mom is like that too; the whole family must be no good!"
I looked at these comments, my hands trembling with anger.
My mom is the best person in the world; how could he slander her like this!
Just then, my dad called, his voice laced with suppressed anger: "Wendy, I saw the posts online. That bastard Leo Clark—I won't let him get away with this!"
My dad, Ben Scott, gave me all his love after my mom passed away.
At first, when I wanted to work as a helper at the restaurant, he was firmly opposed, worried I might be mistreated.
I pleaded for a long time before he agreed, even specifically telling Leo Clark that the rent at Joy Restaurant wouldn't increase for ten years.
He even entrusted the eight million tea break order to the restaurant, all to make sure I could live more comfortably there.
I never expected Leo Clark to be so ungrateful—and to actually slander my mom and me.
I heard some noise on the other end of the phone; it sounded like my dad was calling the bodyguard.
I quickly stopped him: "Dad, don't be impulsive, don't fight him."
"Just raise the rent that was undercharged. As for the rumors he's spreading, I'll take care of those myself."
"I may be slow-tempered, but I'm not afraid of trouble. He slandered my mother, and I won’t let him get away."
There was a pause on the other end, then my dad's voice softened: "Wendy, are you sure? Do you want me to help you?"
"I'm sure, Dad. Trust me."
After hanging up, I shared my plan with Calvin Scott and Shirley Lincoln.
Calvin Scott frowned and said, "What do you plan to do? Leo Clark is acting crazy right now. Don't go head-to-head with him."
I smiled and said, "Don't worry, I have a plan."
The next day, my dad followed my plan and called Leo Clark.
He used exactly the same excuse Leo gave when cutting salaries: "Mr. Clark, the economy isn't doing well, our company needs to manage costs, so the rent for Joy Restaurant has to go up."
"Besides, this land has appreciated in value, so raising the rent is only fair."
The moment Leo heard about the rent increase, he panicked: "Mr. Scott, didn't we agree not to raise the rent for ten years? How can you go back on your word?"
My Dad paused, then deliberately said, "I heard you secured the tea break order for the Jewelry Summit? If you do well, maybe I will grant your more orders in the future."
As soon as Leo Clark heard this, his expression immediately changed. He said flatteringly, "Mr. Scott, rest assured, I will prepare the tea break thoroughly! I'll transfer the rent right now—whatever amount you say, I'll pay!"
That afternoon, my Dad received the rent transferred by Leo Clark—1.3 million, thirty thousand more than before, exactly a hundred times my previous salary.
Leo Clark also sent a message: "Mr. Scott, the rent has been transferred. Thank you for your concern about the tea break. I will definitely prepare it to the highest standards!"
I looked at the message and couldn't help but smile.
Chef Lee was even fired by him—how does he expect to uphold the highest standards?
Could it really be that they're fooling the association with pre-made pastries?
I want to see how he's going to get out of this.

In the following days, Shirley Lincoln, Chef Lee, and I worked together to prepare for the tea break.
We went to an ecological orchard in the suburbs to inspect the organic fruits we needed for the tea break.
The fruits in the orchard were all very fresh, and no one even picked up the apples and strawberries that had fallen to the ground.
Looking at the fruit, Shirley said sympathetically, "It's such a waste to throw away fruit that fresh."
"I've never bought fruit this fresh for my mom before."
She said as she crouched down to pick up an apple from the ground.
I crouched down too, helping her gather the fruit.
Just then, a noisy commotion came from the orchard entrance.
I looked up and saw Leo Clark approaching with some people from the Global Jewelry Association.
Leo was startled to see us picking fruit. After a moment, he sneered, "Well, isn’t this Wendy Scott and Shirley Lincoln?"
"Just a few days out of the restaurant, and you're already picking fruit off the ground to eat?"
He walked up to us, looking down arrogantly, and said, "I'm in a good mood today—I just secured the big tea break order."
"If you kneel and apologize to me, then lick the dirt off my shoes clean, maybe I'll let you come back to work at the restaurant."
I stood up, brushed the dust off my hands, and said calmly, "Mr. Clark, you've already fired Chef Lee and me. How are you going to prepare for the tea break? With pre-made pastries?"
Mr. Warren from the Global Jewelry Association, standing nearby, immediately changed his expression and said, "Mr. Clark, what's going on? Are you seriously planning to use pre-made pastries for the tea break?"
"We signed a contract, and if you breach it by using pre-made pastries, you'll have to pay ten times the compensation!"
Leo Clark's face immediately flushed red. Pointing at me, he said angrily, "Mr. Warren, don't listen to her nonsense!"
"I brought you here today precisely to check the fruit. How could we possibly be using pre-made pastries?"
"Wendy Scott holds a grudge against me and is deliberately spreading rumors to get back at me!"
Seeing his panic, I continued, "If you're not using pre-made pastries, then tell me, what are the main pastries served at the tea break?"
I knew that over the years, Leo Clark had only cared about eating, drinking, and having fun. He knew nothing about the affairs of the Pastry Department.
He definitely wouldn't be able to answer.
Sure enough, Leo Clark opened his mouth but couldn't get a word out, cold sweat breaking out on his temples.
He panicked, suddenly grabbing a rusty fruit knife off the ground and pointing it at me: "Wendy Scott, stop making a fuss here!"
"Is it just that you're resentful because you see me doing well with my restaurant?"
"I know it was you who secretly slashed my yacht's tires! Today, I'm settling both old and new scores!"
As he said that, he lunged at me.
I'm slow to react, and it was already too late to dodge.
At that moment, Shirley Lincoln suddenly pushed me aside and stepped in front of me.
"Leo Clark! Are you out of your mind? You want to beat her up in broad daylight? Isn’t it against the law?”
Leo Clark sneered, "Law? Here, I am the law!"
"When the tea break ends, my restaurant will be booming."
"Even if I beat you, I'll just pay some compensation. What's the big deal?"
He ordered the two bodyguards beside him to hold me down.
He raised the fruit knife again and lunged toward my chest.
At that critical moment, Mr. Warren from the association suddenly grabbed him. "Mr. Clark, don't be impulsive! This girl looks familiar—she seems to be Mr. Scott's daughter."
Leo Clark shrugged off his hand with a look of contempt. "Are you out of your mind?"
"There are plenty of people named Scott. Are they all Mr. Scott's daughters?"
"If you keep spouting nonsense, I'll deal with both of you!"
Mr. Warren was so frightened by him that he didn't dare say another word.

Download the SnackShort app, Search 【 625429 】reads the whole book.

My Fiction

App Store

Google Play

SnackShort

App Store

Google Play