“Yeah.” Victor smiles. “I can’t believe Amy bought two boxes of croissants for the office.”
I grin. “Seven thirty sharp, just like always.” She works in VC, but a lot of others from her firm come over to grab stuff around lunch time. “Those finance people… They love their carbs.”
A young blonde in a UCLA T-shirt walks in, smiling shyly. She comes here for Victor, so I let him help her. It’ll be cool if he finds love with somebody sweet who’s his age.
Then the door chimes again and TJ walks in, clad in a black suit that barely fits him. I swear, if he has to take a swing at someone those shoulder seams are going to rip right out. He needs to quit buying suits off the rack, but he’s a cheapskate when it comes to clothes.
“Hey you,” I say.
He gives me a good squeeze, that lets me know he’s got my back. “Looking good. Smells like sugar in here.”
“Well, thisisa bakery.”
“That must be it.” He pulls back, then frowns. “What happened to your neck?”
“Oh, that? Just…a couple of mosquito bites.” Not telling TJ what happened with Noah on Saturday. Way too embarrassing and nothing good would come of it. Those meaty paws of his are murder weapons.
“Well, that sucks.”
“Uh-huh. Literally.”
“Gotta be careful. Those fuckers carry all sorts of diseases.”
“I know,” I say quickly before he lists all the horrible medical conditions I could develop. TJ is slightly hypochondriac, and he often looks up diseases on Google, supposedly for “reference.” He hasn’t realized yet that according to Google, even a sneeze can be fatal. I gesture at the gorgeous cupcakes, Danishes and croissants. “Want something?”
“Don’t guess there’s any apple pie…?”
“You know I don’t make those here.” I used to, but they weren’t that profitable. My customers prefer cupcakes and muffins.
He heaves a sigh, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him. “Fine. I’ll take blueberry and chocolate cupcakes, four each. And five croissants.”
I put the cupcakes in a box so the butter cream frosting remains intact, but place the croissants in a big paper bag.
“You sure you don’t need help with those tiles?” TJ says.
“Maybe I already finished the job.”
“Nah. You’ve been too busy. Ivy told me you stopped by their house, then went ring shopping and had dinner with Eugene. When would you have the time to rip out your kitchen floor?”
“You just want free apple pie.”
“Obviously,” he says shamelessly.
I smile. “Even if I needed your help, you’d have to wait. The tiles I ordered are taking forever.”
“What’s up with that?”
“Who knows? The store said the supplier is late with their shipment, so…” I shrug.
“Want me to look into it for you?”
“So you can use Tony’s connections and take all the credit?”
“Hey, I’ll get you those tiles. You just bake that pie.”
“Ha! I might if you promise to make buffalo wings with your secret sauce this weekend.” I’m heading to his place to hang out with him, his girlfriend Cassie and Josie.
“I can do even better. I’ll have that raspberry beer you like so much, too. That deserves…” He pretends to add something up in the air. “At least two pies.” He gives me a hopeful look.
