Chapter Thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen


Jamie Vandeviere

 

“It says here that we are to list at least five ways to promote our product,” I said, going over the instructions for our marketing project again. “And so far we have coupon creation, newspaper advertisement, and T.V. commercials. We need two more.”

“How about…” Paul’s eyebrows creased together, taping his pen lightly against the table. “Online social networking?”

“That’s good,” I nodded. “Oh! And we can send out samples and get people to testify our product.”

“Great. So that’s five, right?” 

Even though the project wasn’t due for another eight days, I wanted to finish it early so I could cross it off my to-do list. I hated waiting till the last minute to work on my assignments, as I didn’t work well under pressure, and this project was pretty important. After all, it accounted for sixty percent of our semester grade.  

Sitting across from Paul with my laptop between us in my mother’s café definitely made this the strangest Saturday afternoon. It was actually my suggestion since the downtown library had closed this weekend for maintenance and I couldn’t really think of anywhere else to go. When I asked Paul if he had any suggestions… Well. Let’s just say Paul’s not a very opinionated person.

“You guys want some more coffee?” Cherri asked from the counter. Cherri was a second-year student at Roseville Community College and had been working for my mom at the café since she was a sophomore in high school. She was Mom’s most trusted employee therefore mom always left her in charge when she had errands to run, which coincidently happened to be today. I think she drove out to Charlotte to meet one of her coffee suppliers.

“That’d be great. You know what? I’ll get it,” I said, walking over to the counter since Cherri was clearly busy teaching the new waitress, Beatrice, how to work the cash register.

I helped out at the café occasionally, usually on the weekends since that was when the diner had the best business. I would have come more frequently but Mom turned me down practically every time I offered, wanting me to focus on school and to “spend more time mingling with kids my age” instead of locked up in that café of hers. Little did she know, “kids my age” usually meant Lucy and Clara and recently, Luke. Which reminds me; I still hadn’t told her anything about Luke.

I handed Paul a blueberry muffin that my mom had baked earlier this morning and poured some more coffee into his cup.

“Oh. Thanks.” His face flushed and he seemed so flustered that I wanted to slap him on the back and tell him to lighten up. Hard to imagine that someone as shy and quiet as Paul used to be Luke’s best friend. They just seemed so different, personality-wise.

I refrained myself from giggling when Paul’s eyes widened after taking a bite out of my mother’s muffin. “Wow! This is really good!” Even though I had nothing to do with the muffin- it was all mom’s hard work- I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in me. Take that, Summer. You’re apparently the only one in town who thinks Mom’s café is rubbish.

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