James, Beau, and Addie stroll inside, and we greet them from the counter, practically having to yell across the place. Ellie’s assistant, Emily, made sure to whip up loads of cupcakes, cake slices, pie slices, tarts, and so much more. She and Ellie spent two days prepping.
When the stock behind the glass runs low, anotherassistant comes and refills it. It’s non-stop madness in the best way possible.
Balloons hang in the corners, some displaying HC, in gold letters. Pop music plays while customers start claiming tables, enjoying a pastry and a drink. I’m sure by the end of the day, my voice will be gone.
Two hours later,people are still coming in. According to some, the line never dies down, and by the looks of it, we may need to start baking more items. Hopefully, it doesn’t get to a point where I need to help, because, well… customers will walk away with a burnt brownie.
Amongst the crowd and chatter, Beau says a name that makes me freeze.
“August!” Beau waves him over to their table, which is full of plates.
August gestures his head to them, then points in my direction, telling them he’s going to buy some things before he joins them.
“Do you have any merchandise by chance?” A lady I don’t recognize asks.
“I’m so sorry, we don’t. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll be sure to come up with some items soon for you to grab.” I ring up her items.
“That would be wonderful. I drove an hour to get here and would love to tell people about your bakery. That's all I’ve been hearing about these past few months.”
We stole Addie away from Rowan for a bit to help with our marketing. She created many social media platforms for us, posts, and videos to share our progress. It’s reached people from different states, and at one point, Ellie almosthad a breakdown because our accounts garnered over a thousand followers. It may be small numbers to some, but it’s a lot for us.
August steps forward and lets out a low whistle. “This is what I get for leaving work later and standing in line.”
Gosh, he’s so cute. All he’s wearing is a plain gray T-Shirt and denim jeans, and my knees still wobble.
He tucks his hands into his pockets as he scans the desserts.
“They’re making more in the back.” I point behind me to the white, swinging doors that leads into the kitchen.
There’s slight tension between us, but he isn’t showing any hurt or anger. Maybe the tension is just on my side. He also has a terrific poker face. We don’t necessarily mingle or make small talk. Instead, he focuses on what he’s ordering.
“I’ll take one of those giant Rice Krispies, that brownie with caramel drizzled on top, and a slice of that triple chocolate cake that I’m sure will put me into a sugar coma.” He fixes his glasses and gives me a lopsided grin.
I nod and press the screen on the tablet in front of me before turning it toward him. The option to tip pops up first, and he taps on something, but I can’t see what. Then his finger glides across it, and he tucks his hand back in his pocket.
I swivel it back my way and notice he added a twenty percent tip. Ellie and I decided that all tips will go directly to our two baking assistants and our employee, Jamie, a cheerful teenager with bright braces.
“Thank you for the tip.”
It’s hard to stare at him when I feel ashamed of what happened two nights ago. It feels like I’ve let him down. Letusdown. A part of me wants to blame Mom for how I thinkand act, but I’m a grown adult and can’t use her as an excuse. This is my own doing. And I need to fix that.
Jamie picks out each dessert he’s chosen, putting them in a white box, sealing it up, and stuffing it into a bag. He takes the treats and says thank you before looking at me one more time and turning away.
“Wow,” Jamie says with crimson cheeks, “he’s really cute.”
We watch him walk away, and my eyes go straight to his ass. He really is cute.
THIRTY-EIGHT
RILEY
It's been a whirlwind of a week. I don’t remember the last time I’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep. Coffee is the one thing keeping me going through this crazy time in my life. Between Honey Cakes and the yoga studio, it seems like I have zero time to turn off my brain.
On top of that, my parents’ divorce was finalized yesterday. Hailey and I took Dad out for a celebratory dinner. It may seem terrible that we were celebrating it like it was his birthday, but when you have another parent who made your life a living hell, you feel okay about it.
Since then, Hailey and I have gotten multiple texts and calls from Mom, but I’m not ready to speak to her just yet. Hailey gives me a pep talk, helping me find the courage to do what needs to be done.
“You can do it, Ry.” Hailey sits next to me on her couch while I have my phone in my hands, Mom’s name popped up in a new text.
