Curiosity got the better of me, and I picked up the magazine. On the cover, Mr. Smolder was standing in front of a building that was under construction wearing a crisp white button-down dress shirt and black slacks. His dark hair somehow didn’t have a hair out of place and also looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
He was looking directly at the camera, so I knew that he must’ve posed for the picture, but if I had to guess, I would say that he hadn’t been a fan of the photoshoot.
I flipped through the pages to the article and had to admit, I felt a little like I was intruding on his life. Logically, I knew that I wasn’t. This information was out for public consumption. Anyone with five dollars and forty-five cents could read it.
Still, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in my gut as I turned the pages.
Meet San Francisco’s Most Eligible Bachelor Alex Vaughn
Not Your Typical CEO: A Story of Heartache, Hardship & Humble Beginnings
Alex Vaughn is a classic case of not judging a book by its cover. To see the man, you’d think he attended an Ivy League school, that he came from a family of privilege, wealth, and opportunity. In reality, he doesn’t even have a high school diploma.
“He doesn’t?” I said aloud. Not with any judgment. It didn’t matter to me either way, he just didn’t give off the energy of a high school dropout.
Mr. Vaughn only completed his sophomore year at Washington High. Despite having a 4.0 GPA, being a star athlete with recruiters showing interest from Division 1 schools he didn’t return for his junior or senior year.
Instead, he started working in construction to support his family after his high school girlfriend became pregnant. In his mid-twenties, he decided to branch out from under his hard hat and get into the property development game. In just a few short years, he made a name for himself in the cutthroat industry.
Just when his business was taking off, tragedy struck when his then-pregnant wife and fourteen-year-old son were tragically killed by a drunk driver.
Tears pooled in my eyes. Even though I’d known that he’d lost his wife and son, seeing it in black and white made it seem more real.
Thankfully, his unborn daughter survived.
Today, Vaughn Holdings is an international conglomerate and Alex Vaughn is one of the richest—
The bell above the door chimed letting me know a customer had come into the shop. I set the magazine down with every intention of coming back and finishing the piece. I walked to the front and saw two of my most favorite customers. A woman and her granddaughter who came in at least once a week.
“Hello, Lexi, Mrs. Garrett. How are you two lovely ladies doing today?”
The duo had visited during opening week. I didn’t remember all of my customer’s names, but Lexi introduced herself and Mrs. Garrett, whom she called Gigi, to me during every visit for the first few months we’d been open.
The name stuck with me becauseFacts of Lifehad been one of my favorite shows growing up and Mrs. Garrett had been my favorite character, probably because I was missing a maternal figure. Unlike the fictional Mrs. Garrett who resembled Mrs. Claus, the real-life Mrs. Garrett reminded me of some of the older models I’d met when Charli was at the height of her career. She had to be in her sixties, at least, but she was stunning. She had silver hair, high cheekbones, and large green eyes. Her figure was petite but she still managed to have curves. I had curves, but I was not what anyone would call petite.
I’d asked Mrs. Garrett once if she’d ever done any modelling and she blushed and changed the subject. If I knew her better, I would have tried to find out the backstory.
“I got shots because I’m going to a different school next year.” Lexi proudly showed me her arm which had a unicorn Band-Aid on it.
“Are you going to kindergarten?” I asked and Lexi nodded proudly.
“Yes, she is. She was so brave. Not one tear,” Mrs. Garrett proudly announced.
“Whoa, not one tear?!” I asked sounding appropriately impressed.
Lexi beamed as she shook her head back and forth. Her dark auburn hair was styled in two ponytails that swooshed against her cheeks. “I asked if it was going to hurt and Nurse Holly said yes.” She lifted her arms up in a shrug. “So, I knew what was comin’.”
A wide smile broke out on my face. The adorableness factor on this kid was off the charts. “I think that makes you even braver.”
“She did so well,” Mrs. Garrett reiterated. “I told her she could get any treat she wanted, and she picked a Sadie’s Special.”
“Well, thank you. I’m so honored.” I wasn’t just saying that, I truly was.
When I’d dreamed about opening a bakery, it was partly because I loved baking so much. But also, I loved giving my baked goods to people. I loved seeing their faces light up. I loved the expression of bliss when they would take their first bite of a freshly baked goody.
I loved being a part of birthdays, weddings, graduations, heck even divorces that people were celebrating. And not only big occasions but also the splurges and treats for finishing finals, getting a job, or, in this case, getting shots. I was even honored and appreciated being part of people’s lives when things weren’t so great, losing a job, breaking up with a boyfriend and they just wanted something to make them feel better.
Losing my mom like I did, I’d grown up with something I’d heard referred to asthe superhero complex. I’d thought that because she’d died, I needed to do something extraordinary with my life. I needed to cure cancer, or solve world hunger, or end homelessness. I needed to be Wonder Woman.
