"These are perfect," I said, eating a reddish-looking muffin with little cheese crouton pieces on it. "It tastes just like grilled cheese and tomato soup."
"Hence the name!" she said with a wink.
I ate more muffins until she slapped my hand away.
"I hope this is enough," she said, gesturing to the muffins.
"French onion soup, potato, cheddar, and bacon soup, and grilled cheese and tomato soup," I said, listing the muffins. "I think it’s plenty." I kissed her, then let her go and watched her put the sugar cookies carefully in little clear cellophane bags.
"Are these snowflakes?" I asked, holding up one of the cookies and inspecting it. "Hey, that's my tower! You must have spent a lot of time on this." The snowflake had a perfect drawing in delicate lines of icing depicting my tower and said FROST TOWER in loopy cursive.
"I hope this is enough to win you the contract," she said, taking the cookie from me.
Chloe fluffed up the tissue paper in a large box. There were little cutouts to hold each muffin. I watched as she carefully placed a variety of them inside the box, added another cardboard layer, and filled it with muffins too. She put a final layer of tissue paper on top and placed a card with little drawings and the names of the three different muffins in the same cursive script.
"This is an insane level of detail," I said, looking at the card.
"I wish I had made more," she fretted. "A variety of three is hardly a variety."
"It's perfect," I assured her.
She carefully closed the box and tabbed it with clear stickers that had little snowflakes on them. The box also said FROST TOWER. She put the little white box of the large snowflake cookies on top and tied the whole thing together with blue and silver ribbons.
"This is amazing," I told her.
"I'm taking a picture," she said, "because I think it looks fabulous, but don't worry. I'm not going to post it online."
I kissed her on her neck and nose and forehead and mouth.
"You are amazing. You're going to be the talk of the town when you open your restaurant."
"Bakery," she corrected. "I don't think I can handle a restaurant. That's a lot of work. I just want a cute little bakery."
The doorbell rang. Eddie was there with a courier.
"You have a car, right? I don't want these balanced on your bike handlebars," Chloe said as she handed the man the boxes. "Do not, under any circumstances, drop, tip over, or otherwise jostle those baked goods. Here's an extra muffin for your trouble."
The courier left with a big smile on his face as he munched on the muffin. Chloe dropped onto the couch.
"Thank you," I told her, sitting down next to her.
"Don't thank me until something is signed," she warned. "I want your tower to be successful."
"You are seriously the best thing that has ever happened to me," I told her.
She yawned. "You can thank me after I take a nap."
"You can't nap yet," I said. "I have something for you that you're going to love."
47
Chloe
"Iwanted to do something nice for you," Jack said and came into the room carrying a stack of big white boxes.
I opened one, and inside was a slinky little black dress. The additional boxes held heels and a silvery-grey cape and hat in the same fur as the coat he had bought me.
"You have to stop buying me this stuff!" I exclaimed. "I'm a baker. The flour and dough will ruin these clothes! They're so nice. I really don't know where I'm going to wear them. I had pinned them as more aspirational than anything. I was feeling veryBreakfast at Tiffany'sthat day."
