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“An order?” I ask.
He nods his head once. “Enough of your amazing cupcakes for about three hundred.”
My mouth drops open. I couldn’t keep my lips closed at this point, even if I wanted to. I’m completely shocked.
“All different flavors. However you want to do them. Deliver them to this address,” he says as he reaches for a piece of scratch paper that I keep at the counter for such occasions, although it’s never been used, and writes an address on it.
“Have it there by seven. Party starts at nine, so you should be in and out before shit gets real,” he says, although it kind of sounds like he’s talking to himself.
“So, fifty of each flavor?” I ask as he slides the slip of paper toward me.
“Sounds good to me,” he says with a grunt. “But don’t tell anyone it’s vegan or any of that shit. And maybe…” He lifts his gaze to meet mine, holding it, his eyes searching my own. I wonder what he’s thinking. I want to ask him, but I decide against it. “Maybe leave your business cards there.”
I hold my breath for another beat before I let it out slowly, then my lips curve up into a smile. “I can do that,” I whisper.
“I’ll give you half now and half on delivery. That good?”
“Yeah,” I exhale. “That’s good.”
“How much do I owe you?”
I want to give him my regular price, mainly because I want to make some serious cash off him, but he’s buying in bulk, and that wouldn’t be fair at all. Instead, I quote him four hundred and fifty dollars.
He reaches into his pocket, and I start to ask him for details so I can fill out my slip. “So, what’s your name?” I ask, my gaze focused on the slip and nowhere else. There is a moment of silence, and my gaze flicks up to meet his.
I watch as his tongue slides across his bottom lip before he smiles. “King.”
“King?” I ask.
He hums. “King Stanley.”
Scrawling his name on the slip, I repeat it. “King Stanley. Okay, three hundred cupcakes. Six flavors and four hundred and fifty dollars to be delivered this Friday at seven in the evening,” I say, repeating everything as I write it down on the slip.
Not that I could forget any of it because this is the only thing that is going to pay my rent for the month. I’m still going to be losing money, but I can at least pay Arthur, my wonderful landlord. Even at the hugely discounted rate, this is going to save me for one more month. And then I can worry about what’s next.
“That’s not enough money,” King announces. “Your cupcakes, right there in the case, say three bucks. You’re charging me half.”
God. What a nice guy. Seriously.
“I can’t see charging you the à la carte price for a bulk order like that,” I whisper.
He reaches out, and his index finger touches the back of my hand. My gaze slides up to meet his, and I hold it, loving the way his blue eyes sparkle as they look directly into mine. Then he smirks. “Babe,” he rasps. “Those fuckin’ cakes are worth three bucks a pop.”
Then, without another word, he slams his hand down on the counter. Five one-hundred-dollar bills. Five. My mouth drops open, and I stare at him. I don’t know what to say at all. Instead, I give him a smile.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “See you Friday.”
Then he turns his back to me and walks away. I watch him slip out of the front door. Five hundred dollars sit in front of me, but I can’t take my eyes off his back. Why me? Why my shop? He could get them from Sam’s Club or anywhere for a hell of a lot cheaper. But he came here and special ordered them, paying retail.
Why? I’m trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. However, I can’t help but feel curious about it all. Then I wonder if he’s really going to pay me anything else. He doesn’t have to pay me a cent more. My price was less than what he’d already given me, but it would help me more than he would probably ever know.
Instead of asking myself any more questions, I decide it’s time I do. I’m going to shut up and bake three hundred cupcakes and deliver them on Friday, all in hopes I’ll gain some new customers. And maybe, just maybe, this is the break I’ve needed.
CHAPTER
FOUR
