“They’re sold out everywhere, but Ashanti makes sure wealways have some available for our clients.” She set two treats on the desk. “But we have to limit the amount you can buy until she’s able to bake more inventory. We’re getting orders from around the world. The last twenty-four hours have been unreal.”
“She makes these herself?” Thad asked.
Deja nodded. “I’ll add these two to Puddin’s bill. Remember, pickup is at six.”
“How could I forget,” Thad said.
13
Ashanti added a cup of pureed pumpkin to the stand-alone mixer’s bowl, locked the flat beater into place, and started it on a slow mix. She checked on the treats baking in the oven before filling a piping bag with icing and finishing up those that had already cooled.
“Only five hundred more to go,” she said.
When their website had crashed this weekend from being inundated with people inquiring about the doggy treats Duchess and Puddin’ were caught sharing, Ashanti’s first instinct had been to panic. She swiftly rearranged her thinking, choosing instead to count her blessings.
This is what she wanted, right? For everyone to clamor for Duchess Delights. National brands paid tens of thousands of dollars for the free marketing she’d gotten from that viral video.
For months she’d questioned whether pet owners would be interested in a full-size pet bakery. Well, she had her answer. What she needed now was inventory. And a bigger place for her business.
The doorbell chimed.
“One minute,” Ashanti called, setting the piping bag on the table. “Scoot, Duchess,” she told her dog. The cute little booger would try to escape in a heartbeat if given half a chance.
Ashanti opened the door and smiled in relief.
“At your service,” Evie said.
“Thank you.” Ashanti enveloped her in a hug. She stepped back and held up her hands. “And before you ask, yes, I’ve already put out feelers for a second baker. I know better than to eventryto keep up this pace on my own. But, until I can find someone, I need as much help as I can get.” She motioned for Evie to follow her to the kitchen and pointed to the cookie sheets stacked up on the counter. “Let me get the set that’s baking out of the oven, and I’ll help you bring those to the car.”
“It’s three hundred fifty degrees for twelve minutes, right?”
“Yes. Not a minute longer,” Ashanti said.
“The only time I’ve taken advantage of the double ovens in my house is the year I hosted Thanksgiving. You’d better be grateful I haven’t had time to do the kitchen reno I’ve been wanting to do, because that double oven would be gone. Actually, thank Cameron for that. He’s the one who keeps putting it off.”
“Give your fiancé this kiss from me,” Ashanti said. She kissed Evie on the cheek before carrying the treats she’d just taken from the oven to the dining room table.
She heard the front door open a second before seeing a green-and-white jacket pass through the room in a blur.
“Was that Kendra?” Evie asked.
“Yes,” Ashanti said with a sigh. “I need to talk to her, but I’m not up for a fight right now.”
“Teenagers.” Evie shook her shoulders in an exaggerated shudder. “I want no part of it.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t really have a choice,” Ashanti said. “It was me or Atilla.”
Evie shuddered again. “Those girls need to thank you every day of their lives. Speaking of thanking you, why aren’t they in herehelpingyou?”
“One of them doesn’t even talk to me most days,” Ashanti said, gesturing to the stairs. “And Kara has volleyball practice.” She tried her best to shake off the disquiet that filled her regarding Kendra these days. She had to figure out what was going on with that one. “I’ll help you get these in the car.”
It took two trips to cart all the cookie sheets and plastic containers filled with unbaked treats out to Evie’s SUV. Ashanti was about to put another two dozen in the oven, but thought better of it. She needed to check in on Kendra first, and if by some miracle she could get her sister to give her more than a few monosyllabic responses, she didn’t want to have to stop their conversation so that she could get dog biscuits out of the oven.
Before she could go upstairs, Kendra came back down. She had changed into the tracksuit she wore over her cheerleader uniform and carried a green-and-white duffle on one shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Ashanti asked.
“To the volleyball match,” she answered.
