Read Mint Chip Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 6 for Free Online Page B

said.  “On the house.  Any variety you’d like.”
     
    “I don’t want another donut.”  The
woman grimaced.  “It would probably be as bad as this one.”
     
    “Then I’d be happy to refund your
money.  Was there anything else that wasn’t to your satisfaction?”
     
    “The coffee wasn’t very good, either,”
she said.  “But I managed to drink it.”
     
    “Ma’am, I’ll be glad to refund your
money for the coffee, too,” Heather said, moving toward the register.
     
    “Well, you should.  It’s the least you
can do.”
     
    Heather rang up the price of a donut
and a cup of coffee, counted out the woman’s refund, and handed it to her.
     
    “And I won’t be coming back,” she
said.  “The prices you charge for these donuts!  You should be ashamed of yourself.”
     
    Heather kept her smile pasted to her
face until the customer had gathered up her purse and left the store.  Then,
she turned back towards the kitchen, drew in a deep breath, and let it out
slowly.
     
    “You were so nice to her,” Angelica
said.  “But she was very nasty toward you.  Why would you be so nice to her?”
     
    “Because she’s a customer,” Heather
said.
     
    “Not anymore.”
     
    “Then maybe just because it’s the
right thing to do.”
     
    “I’m glad she’s not coming back.  We
don’t need any customers like her.”
     
    “For every one of her, there are 99
delightful ones,” Heather said.  “Gotta take the good with the bad sometimes.”
     
    “You’re the boss,” Angelica muttered
as she turned back to her work.  “But I don’t like the way they talk to you.”
     
    Heather smiled as she grabbed an
apron, slipped the strap over her head, and tied it behind herself.  Maybe you
couldn’t make everybody happy, she thought, because there was just no pleasing
some people.  But if you could spend most of your life making most people
happy, as she had the privilege to do, then you had nothing to complain about. 
In fact, you were very blessed.
     
    ***
     
    “Sorry,” Amy said, giggling.  “Hee
hee.  Sorry again.”
     
    The white-coated pedicurist working on
Amy’s right foot didn’t look up.  She was probably used to customers with
ticklish feet, Heather figured. 
     
    As another pedicurist worked on
Heather’s foot, Heather leaned back against the leather chair and sighed.  The
constant, low hum of the vibrations as the chair massaged her back provided a
soothing background noise that almost lulled her to sleep.  That, and the fact
that the foot not being worked on rested in a tub of delightfully warm water.
     
    “Ahhhh,” Heather sighed.  “I could
really get used to this.”
     
    “You should get a mani-pedi more
often,” Amy said.  “Hee hee.  Because you’re on your feet all day.  Ha! 
Sorry.  Maybe I better not try to talk to you until she’s done with my feet.”
     
    “You’re funny,” Heather said.  She
closed her eyes.  In a moment, she felt the pedicurist gently place her foot
back into the warm water, then lift her other foot to be worked on.  “I just
don’t pamper myself very often,” she said to Amy.  “You know?”
     
    “Every woman needs pampering once in a
while,” Amy said, sighing in relief as the woman placed her foot back into the
water.  “Preferably often.”
     
    “Mmm,” Heather murmured
noncommittally.  Once in awhile was fine with her, but pampering herself too
often would feel…decadent, maybe.  Or wasteful, in terms of money.
     
    “I know what you’re thinking,” Amy
said.
     
    “What am I thinking?”
     
    “That it costs too much.  That it’s
too indulgent.  Something like that.”
     
    “Right-o.”
     
    “Okay, then,” Amy said.  “Marry Ryan
and let him pamper you.”
     
    “He hasn’t asked,” Heather said.
     
    “Would you marry him if he did?”
     
    “You want the same color polish on
your toes as on your fingers?”  The nail tech was looking up at Heather, saving
her from