I arched a brow at her. “Sure, he would. After he bent over backwards to get those tickets to the candlelight New Year’s event in Albany. I think not.”
She sagged. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Have the best time. I appreciate all your help today.”
“Of course. I’m so excited to do more.”
“This is only the first one.” I squeezed her fingers. “Now, let’s hope we get more orders after tonight.”
“Girl, your desserts sell out in three hours most days. They’re going to want them.”
I laughed. “I really hope so.” It had taken a few months for people to get on board with my crazy sales model. I didn’t want to bake all damn day. Work-life balance was important. It meant that I busted my ass most mornings, but it also meant I was done with work before noon most days. The fear-of-missing-out mentality worked well for getting people into my shop to see what I came up with on a daily basis.
Most of the time it matched the music playing in the shop as well.
It was a wild ride, but I was already looking to do a little something different. I would never be the kind of business who followed trends and that worked for me.
So far.
Now, I guess I’d see if wedding cakes were my next level up.
I slammed the back door of the Sweet Beats truck. I’d contracted out for a skin on the truck with a ton of my favoritevinyl records and an extra chunky font with a vintage feel that couldn’t be missed.
Now, I just had to get the cakes there safely.
I double checked my emergency decoration kit for fixing anything that didn’t survive the trip, my duffel bag that had my dress rolled up inside, and my stash of sour gummy candies to keep me energized through the night.
My bedtime was usually eight o’clock thanks to a three in the morning start.
I locked up and waved at Shannon as she pulled away from the curb and into the surprisingly dense traffic.
I had a feeling a lot of it was last minute for the wedding. The Murdock brothers had been the talk of the town this year thanks to a viral moment that exploded their business. Having a hot guy do your renovations wasn’t the worst way to market, that was for sure.
Even if my particular motor had never been revved by that portion of the Murdock clan.
Nope.
I’d always had a secret thing for the black sheep of the Murdocks.
The eldest.
The enigma.
The snarky and intenseRipley Murdock with his broad shoulders and scarred hands was the one who gave me a few rocky moments since I turned sixteen. But as the oldest Murdock, he’d been unattainable. He’d worked at the Indigo Valley Gear Heads since nineteen and then taken it over at twenty-five and renamed itMurdock Automotive. It had become a cornerstone of Indigo Valley’s businesses in a few short years.
I was pretty sure it was a Murdock trait.
Which was why I’d taken the leap on doing this wedding cake.
The Murdocks meant stability unlike my family.
I hopped into the conversion van and rolled over the engine. The slight hiccup as it started made my belly tighten. I’d just picked up the stupid thing from a reputable dealer in Albany.
I patted the steering wheel. “Do not invoke the Hart fuckery gene. You have one job, Thelma. You are going to get this beautiful cake to the pavilion. Eight miles. Easy peasy, darlin’. You can do it.”
The engine shuddered as I turned off Hope Street and onto the winding road that led to the edge of town. It had a view of the valley and had a sheltered area for the wedding. It had been a gamble to do an outdoor wedding in the winter when it came to Upstate New York, but the Murdock luck was holding steady and they got a gorgeous night.
Not a cloud in sight.
