“Not if Anthym has anything to say about it.” I wiped my eyes.
“Things can’t be all bad if you get a free cupcake.”
I took a deep breath. “I know, I know. I need to be positive. I am grateful to have a job even if my boss is a self-absorbed monster. I have—well, have access to—a window with a killer view, and I’m getting a free cupcake.”
“You just have to find the good in every situation,” McKenna said, rubbing my back. “Even if Mr. Richmond has a tiny, shriveled heart, at least he’s hot!”
I blew my nose.
“I will never be able to see someone with such a terrible personality as attractive.”
“Strong words for someone who has not yet lost her virginity since moving to New York.”
“Keep your voice down!” I hissed. “I’m not looking for hookups. I’m looking for Prince Charming.”
“Like one of the Broadway actors?” McKenna wrinkled her nose. “Might be hit or miss asking one of them out, but who knows.”
“No, an actual Prince Charming, who’s kind and strong and has been waiting for me his whole life, who’s my soulmate. We will complete each other.”
“I’ll settle for someone with a slightly above average dick who showers regularly and does his own laundry,” McKenna deadpanned.
“You have to send out positive thoughts, and the universe will deliver.”
The Bippity BoppityBakery was around the corner from the dry cleaner where I took Mr. Lies-About-Firing-His-Cleaner’s suits. A vintage neon sign hung in the window, and the day’s offerings were written in neat chalk letters on the board on the wall illuminated by white sconces.
“I just love your bakery,” I gushed to the girl behind the counter as a tabby cat wound around my ankles.
She grinned. “It was a dream of mine to start a bakery, and then I just decided, you know what? Let’s do it. I love an inspirational story! Thank you so much for letting us cater your meeting and for telling all your employees about it. Business has never been better! We are more than happy to cater any other meeting you all are having. Just let me know.”
I resolved then and there to do anything possible to make sure Richmond Electric gave Bippity Boppity Bakery more catering work. What was the point of being an assistant if you couldn’t even plan the snacks for meetings?
“I’m on a one-woman crusade to supply snacks at meetings,” I told the young woman.
And I didn’t mind going toe-to-toe with Grayson Richmond to do it either.
I felt terrible about cashing in my free cupcake coupon though. The owner was a small business woman just trying to make it in this city, just like me, albeit she was probably more successful. I pulled out my credit card.
“You put that away,” the baker insisted. “I saw that free cupcake coupon.”
“I might just use it another time,” I demurred.
She made a gimme motion with her hands.
“Do you like cherries?” she asked. “These cherries jubilee cupcakes are freshly made!”
I went ahead and bought five more of the big pink cupcakes and made a post on Instagram about the Bippity Boppity Bakery—not that I had that many followers, but every bit helped.
Then I headed to Mr. Richmond’s penthouse.
Nasr patted his belly when I offered him a cupcake.
“No, thank you, though they look delicious. I’m going to have to take home all these cookies. I was hoping to foist some baked goods on you.”
“Oh,” I said, having a thought. “There’s a new bakery that maybe we could add to the snack rotation? They have savory offerings, too, and I’m sure they would be happy to make custom snacks. We had them cater a meeting at Richmond Electric, and it was well received.”
“Could be nice to try something new,” he agreed.
I shifted the dry cleaning I held aloft over my head and fished out one of the business cards for the Bippity Boppity Bakery for Nasr.
