Ashley Greyson hopped around the kitchen, holding her foot and glaring at the young girl beside her. Ginger had just dropped a tray of cupcakes on her foot, a tray fresh from the oven. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time. Why had she hired the girl again? “I’m so sorry, Ms. Greyson,” Ginger gushed. “I certainly didn’t mean to drop those on you.” Ashley noticed the girl didn’t admit to not meaning to drop them. From the moment Ashley had let slip she donated some of the baked goods to the local fire department, Ginger had been dropping and messing things up, then smiling and volunteering to take the goods over. At this rate, Ashley might as well close the doors on her new business because she wasn’t going to have anything to sell. “Ginger, I’d like for you to go help Mavis at the front counter.” “But Grandma said I was only allowed to work here if I helped you in the kitchen.” Ginger looked tentatively at the swinging door that led to the front of the bakery and the counter her grandmother had manned since the day Ashley opened the doors.
