Emmy
“You picked the best one.” I smile at the little girl as I reach into the glass case and carefully pull out her cupcake. She picked the one topped with generous swirls of bright purple icing and snowy white edible glitter sprinkled on top, giving it that decadent royal feel. I carefully place the purple confection in a pink box, seal it, and attach the little handle before I hand it over.
“Thank you.” She smiles, and I can’t help but smile back at her gummy grin where there is a wide gap where her front teeth should be. Her dad hands over a crisp twenty-dollar note, and shakes his head when I head over to the register to get his change.
“Keep it.” He grins, watching his daughter carefully balance the bag in her hands. “You’ve made her day. That’s one monster of a cupcake. Did you bake it?”
Grateful for the tip, I thank him before I shake my head ruefully. “I’m afraid my talents lie in convincing people tobuythe goodies rather than actually baking them. Although, these cupcakes are so pretty, they hardly need a sales pitch.”
This is all true. The cupcakes that my boss Mrs. Morgan sells are beautiful, and they taste amazing. Her little bakery down by the waterfront is always busy, and she’s run off her feet keeping a steady flow of baked goods filling her cabinets. Business has been so good that she’s thinking about opening a second location, which is where I come in. I’m one of about a dozen pop-up stands set up across town—at the mall, parks, and other eating hotspots—to gauge interest and demand so she can decide which direction to spread her wings.
“I agree. My daughter saw them from several yards away and was desperate to get her hands on one.”
I smile up at the man again. “Are you sure you don’t want one for yourself, sir? We’ve got a snickerdoodle cupcake that is to die for. I sneaked in one the other day and let me tell you, it was the closest I’ve come to tasting heaven. Not too sweet, with just a pinch of cinnamon.”
I run an unconscious hand over my abundant hips, sighing inwardly. That cupcake isn’t the only thing I’ve eaten over the last couple of weeks I’ve worked here, and I’m pretty sure my expanding ass is a testament to that.
“Go on, Daddy! Get a blue one.” The girl bounces on her toes, her enthusiasm infectious as she giggles up at her father. Of course, he gives in. I mean, who can say no to a little girl with curly pigtails?
“You won’t regret it,” I say as I pick out the snickerdoodle cupcake. “And how about surprising your wife while you’re at it?” I grin cheekily, and the man lets out a booming laugh before genially buying a salted caramel cupcake for ‘the Mrs.’
“If I’m not careful, you’ll talk me into buying one for our dog.” He chuckles, before handing over another note for the cupcakes, once again leaving a generous tip. He takes the box from me and, still smiling, says goodbye, the little girl waving over her shoulder. I wave back, my cheeks hurting from my ‘customer service grin’. I’ve been giving it all day, and if I’m not careful, the wind will change and I’ll be stuck like this forever, smiling manically for the rest of my life. I’ll look like the Joker.
Once they’re around the corner, I drop the smile and stretch my cheeks, eyeing the glass case containing the cupcakes.One, two, three...fourteen…twenty-four.There’s an even two dozen with just over two hours to go before the mall closes and I have to close out the pop-up stand.Not too bad, Emmy Townsend. But there are still two dozen cupcakes that stand between me and that bonus Mrs. Morgan promises for every day I manage to sell the entire stock of baked treats. It isn’t huge, but it’s the equivalent of an extra two hours of pay. That means that if I work my butt off and get that bonus every day, I’ll have an extra day’s pay by the end of the week—not too shabby, right? I’ve managed to take home the bonus almost every day so far too. Except last Monday when I still had six left. I’d briefly done the math to see if it would be worth it to just buy those six cupcakes myself to get the bonus. Sadly, I would have lost money that way. These cutie cupcakes are pricey!
Lucky for me, I’m allowed to get one half-price each day, so I’ve gotten to test the tasty wares at a discount. I’d feel guilty about it if I didn’t feel like it equated to necessary product research in order for me to do my job well.
Besides my ‘research’ money, every penny I earn goes into my savings—not that there’s a heck of a lot ‘saved’ in there. Almost every penny immediately goes out again toward Pop’s medical bills, utilities, and that damn car he loaned me last month after mine died on me. I’d like to save up for a cute little Honda with great mileage, but until I can get on top of the regular bills, I’ll have to contend with Pop’s old Chevy. That thing eats gas faster than I eat cupcakes, and that’s saying something!
Letting out a sigh, I take a look around, searching for prospective customers—you can find them by the hungry gleam in their eye when they look my way. They’re fairly easy to reel in, but I realize I might have to work a little harder this afternoon when a few minutes tick by and nobody even bothers to glance at the display of cupcakes. I lean against the side of the register, idly watching people go about their day when I see him.
I stand up straight and take in a deep breath because walking toward me—his gait long and fluid for someone as tall and big as he is—is a man that can only be described as a silver fox.Lord, he’s handsome. I openly ogle, taking in the span of his shoulders and his overall appearance. He’s both rugged and elegant at the same time. And as he walks closer, his eyes fall on the pop-up stand, right before they meet mine. I quit breathing altogether. He has the most piercing stare, his eyes a steely blue that perfectly offset the flecks of steel in his thick, dark hair. Despite the expensive suit, he gives off a vibe that he works with his hands more than he sits behind a computer. His skin looks tanned, and his jaw is covered in a smattering of salt and pepper stubble that somehow makes him look even more attractive than he would clean-shaven.
I guess he has what my late grandmother would have called ‘an edge’.God rest her soul.And if she was still with us, my grandmother also would have been elbowing me in the side, urging me to call him over. “You just never know when you’ll find your one,” she’d say. Not that I think this guy could be myone, but I do miss granny and her eternal optimism. So it’s with her in mind that I lean across the counter and call out to him across the mall.
“Hey, mister, I hope you have a sweet tooth because I have a deal that you can’t refuse!”
Drake
“Adeal, huh?” A grin tugs my mouth to the side as my feet alter my course and take me directly to the tall and curvy girl standing in the pastel pink and turquoise pop-up bakery. She’s gorgeous. A feast for my tired eyes. I’ve spent half my day trying to convince my bank manager that my expansion idea is worth the investment, but he’s so caught up in numbers and risk that I’m about a bee’s dick away from pulling the whole thing. However, seeing this beauty beckoning me closer has perked me up enough that I might just find the energy to see this through. It’s interesting how fast a shitty day turns good when there’s a pretty girl involved.
As I draw nearer, her eyes grow wide, almost like she didn’t expect me to actually walk over. My lips quirk a little, then widen as her warm cinnamon-colored eyes run over me, taking me in head to toe.
Well, well. Seems the interest is mutual.
I stop a mere couple of feet away from her, the tiny counter the only thing that’s keeping me from getting close enough to touch her. Still, the warm, heady scent of vanilla fills my nose, and I can instantly tell that it’s not from the cupcakes but rather from this girl.
“OK. Show me what you’ve got,” I say, grinning as she tilts her head back and looks up at me. Her thick waves of ebony fall away from her shoulders like an open curtain as she studies me with curiosity in her gaze. She’s tall, much taller than most women—and men too, for that matter—but I’m taller. The top of her head reaches just below my chin.
“I’m sorry?” Her delicately arched brows furrow as she lifts a hand to adjust that luscious mane of dark hair, sweeping it all the way over one shoulder. Crazy as it sounds, my hands automatically itch to wrap around that hair, pull her face up and, bring those full lips to mine. The attraction I feel for this girl is instantaneous, and looking down into her face, I notice the slight color stain her cheeks as she stares back at me.
“Didn’t you promise me a deal I couldn’t refuse?”
“A what?”
Fighting a grin, I tilt my head toward the display case.
She blinks, once, twice, then suddenly, the pink stain blooms into full on red as she blushes and looks away, taking a tiny step back and lifting a pink bakery box from the stack to her left.
