At first I ignore it when she steps away smiling. I go back to filling the deli case with sandwiches for today’s lunch rush. A few seconds even pass this way with me ignoring whatever went on over there. I don’t want to know.
The problem is I know whatever she wrote on the pad of paper has to be bad for her smile to be so large. Eventually — about thirty seconds later — the curiosity gets to me and I slowly meander over.
As I expect. It’s bad. “No. I am not naming this place Pie Hole.”
“It’s missing something. Isn’t it?” She taps her pointer finger to her cheek for a few seconds staring at the tablet of paper. “Oh, I know.” She grabs the pen from the top of the phone and with a quick slash of her hand adds three letters to the front.
“Yeah,” I say with complete sarcasm. “The Pie Hole sounds so much better. Really classy.”
“The Pie Hole has potential.” She lifts a single shoulder and wipes the extra crumbs from the plate into the trashcan.
“No. Just no, Tabitha.”
“What about Bun ‘R’ Us? It’s memorable.”
“You’ve been around Katy too much.” I’m starting to worry there isn’t a name out there that these two couldn’t make sound sexual.
She stops halfway back into the kitchen, her arm keeping the door open. “My Sweet Cakes?”
Point proven. I shake my head no. “Just go back to burning more cookies. I’ve got the name thing under control.”
Truthfully? I do not have the name thing under control. I’ve got nothing. We’ve been open two full days since Pearl demanded an 8 a.m. opening on Monday morning. Even though I’m looking at Wednesday afternoon, I’m no closer to picking out a title. And not because Katy and Tabitha turn everything into a sex joke, but because none of them fit.
The rumble of a heavy exhaust has me turning my head, but the plywood covers my window, blocking my ability to see what’s going on outside the bakery. Since delivering the exorbitantly large number of doughnuts, cupcakes, and chocolate cake Monday morning, the bikers and their truck haven’t been back.
Not to be outdone, Bennett, Ridge, and at least three other guys in the security firm brought over enough sandwich material to feed the town until the end of the month. This has to be the first time in history testosterone-filled men have had a pissing contest over baked goods.
The bike sounds die off, but not because they fade away in the distance. No, the sounds cut off quickly from the stopping of an engine. This can’t be good. The bell over the door chimes and I plaster on my “spend money here” smile. I’m starting to hate that bell.
When the door closes, two gruff, bearded bikers stand in front of my display case. “Cup of coffee to go,” the taller of the two orders.’
Can you take coffee to go on a motorcycle?
The second, with Spider written on his vest, takes longer, his eyes scanning the different sugary treats I perfected in the display case. “A cup of green tea for me, actually.”
“Really, fucker. You’re going to take a tea back to the compound?”
“Jacey says it’s healthier.”
The taller of the two laughs, but it has a mean tint to it. “You really have let that woman cut off your balls. Does she carry them around in her purse?”
All righty then. I busy myself making the coffee and green tea, not about to get involved in what Jacey is carrying around in her purse.
“Uh-oh,” Tabitha slides up next to me and whispers. “Spencer won’t like watching this on the cameras.” She smiles, like she actually enjoys the thought. She steals the coffee pot from me and waves me away, the smile never dwindling. “Let’s time them?”
There’s nothing else for me to do except turn around and face the bikers. The same overdone smile is plastered on my face when I do.
“It looks like a pink fairy took a shit in here,” the tallest one says, his eyes scanning the room and his nose crinkling higher and higher with each sweep.
“So what brings you boys in?” Great, Anessa. When will I learn to not engage?
“Dom said we should make sure and patronize local businesses,” Spider says, his voice lifting on the word patronize. “Especially the new ones.” He flicks a piece of his blond hair away from his face.
“Ahhh.” Yup, not less awkward now. I wonder what they think of their boss telling them to buy something at a little pink bakery. From the way the taller one grimaces every time his eye hits a piece of the décor, he may not have known what to expect until he walked in.
Tabitha passes over the white Styrofoam to-go cup with what better be the best tasting coffee she’s ever poured. Next comes the tea.
Everything is going smoothly until my eye catches what she hands over the counter to Spider. The green tea isn’t delivered in a Styrofoam cup, but a cute dainty tea saucer covered in purple little flowers and a matching cup.
