Showing posts with label gordon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gordon. Show all posts

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Memories of Bakery Bleu

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2015
Consolidating my archived emails, I came across some that were labeled Bakery Bleu. Ah yes, the first bakery I ever worked at, the one described in my novel, Notes from Nadir. The one where I met Gordon, the owner and baker. A quick Google search revealed that things had changed since that interview back on a beautiful warm and sunny April day. No longer was the bakery there—it had vanished. 
Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 19 ~ The Boss of Bakery Bleu
Upon entering the bakery, I noticed a bin of unwrapped baguettes on the counter. I saw a variety of rolls and sweet rolls on the shelves, and behind the man who stood at the counter, were rows of different kinds of breads.
I met Gordon, a tall auburn haired man bordering on pudginess. He wore a navy polo shirt with the golden-brown Bakery Bleu logo [a pair of crossed breadsticks] above one of his manboobs. He shook my hand and sat down across from me so he could see both me and all the baked goodies to the north.
“Do tell me about yourself,” he said in a hearty voice. His accent wasn’t local, that’s for sure. He sounded English. Of course, I didn’t think he wanted to know about my personal history but about how valuable I’d be as a minimum wage slave, I mean, employee. I smiled, and for once, I wasn’t unhappy about sitting across from the man even though he could only offer a part time job. I pulled out a pale blue resume and handed it to him. He nodded and looked at it. I knew he was probably surprised when he saw the word Dreamweaver on the bottom where I listed a few web related things.
“You had your own business,” he studied that piece of paper atop the black table. “You lived in Los Angeles…what’re you doing here?”
Much as I want to, I couldn’t avoid that question. The man was scrutinizing me now. I looked at his dark eyes, then down at the table. “Cheap rent. I live with my mom.”
He had a genuine, hearty laugh. It sounded so wonderful after not hearing much of it that year. And I laughed out loud myself. It was true, that cliché about laughter being healthy.
“I did too when I first moved here from London.”
“Not London, Kentucky?”
He smiled broadly and I was feeling more comfortable with this man I had just met. “England.” He replied, though I knew the answer and he knew I knew that he was from across the pond.
“The people are so boring here,” I said. Oops, not the kind of thing to say in a job interview, especially as I was applying for a job where I’d be waiting on those boring people. But this didn’t really feel like one. “I didn’t say that,” I said.
He leaned forward a bit, covered his ears and replied, “I didn’t hear that!”
God, we were like teenagers on a first date.
He began speaking of the duties. The first date was over; it was a real job interview. He went over them: waiting on customers, taking calls, helping out with orders, mopping up… “It’s not General Motors,” he said. “We’ve all got to pull together.”
Like team spirit? I thought, but left that unsaid.
He complained about how slow business was. And the customers’ taste in bread. “The baguettes are too hard!” he mocked, using a higher pitched voice. He shook his head and in his sexily deep voice said, “I lived in France for eight years. A baguette is CRISP. Here they think it’s burned. I offered to sell them dough if they want soft baguettes.”
I chuckled at that image.
“Look, I only have one important question for you…” he paused with the drama of a stage actor.
Hmm, this was getting interesting. 
To read more, click NOTES FROM NADIR.
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Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Notes from Nadir ~ Manic Monday Excerpt

By Lisa Maliga
Copyright 2013



eBook cover
It’s 2009. Lisa Hansen is impacted by the great recession and can’t focus on her writing career. She has to make the tough decision to stay in Los Angeles or return to her former Midwestern home. Not having seen her mother in over a decade, she moves back in with her in a suburban semi-retirement community. Confronted with long forgotten memories, Lisa finds it difficult to adjust to life in Nadir. She works a couple of dead end jobs, and meets Gordon, a sexy British bakery owner. An opportunity to freelance for him and work as a writer/photographer at The Factory ensures a better income. But how long will she be confined in a lifestyle that she has long outgrown? “Notes from Nadir” is an alternatively poignant and amusing story of life’s unforeseen journeys, sorrows, and rewards.

Where is Nadir?
Merriam-Webster defines nadir as "the lowest point." And that is where Nadir is located. It’s not a place that is found on any map. No GPS will guide anyone there. Nadir is a state of mind.


Notes from Nadir is approx. 88,000 words/292 pages. The release date is Tuesday, November 5, 2013. Both eBook and paperback versions will be available on or around that date.

Chapter 47 ~ Manic Monday

[This is a brief excerpt from the chapter].

Right before lunch one of the Packers came over and announced: "Bakery donuts downstairs in the warehouse … main door!"
On a Monday? Rita smiled and turned to me, "That's great! They sometimes donate donuts from the bakery down the street. It's really a great place…" she got up and was heading for the stairs a lot faster than I'd seen her move since I began working there.
I followed her; I could walk faster than her as I didn't wear a size 18. I knew her size because she saw a pair of large black pants on my cart and said they'd fit her and placed a bid on them. She didn't win them as some other fatso from Nebraska did.
Near the main door I saw a big flimsy pink cardboard box on top of a dilapidated table. It was surrounded by red shirted employees.
Most of the warehouse employees didn't wear gloves. They spent the day handling pee-stained rugs and bedding, cast off toys and games, old electronics, mildewed books, filthy furniture with chewed up legs and torn upholstery; all manner of junk. And they were pawing through the donut selection. Not a napkin or paper towel in sight. But that didn't stop Rita or any of the other workers. A toothless worker wearing a faded, almost pink shirt decorated with holes, licked his fingers. Free food, free dessert, and free germs!
Paperback link




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