“What’s all the commotion over here?” I asked.
We had a fairly relaxed atmosphere in the building, so the employees weren’t alarmed when they realized I’d joined them because everyone was comfortable around me.
“Hey, Mr. Goode! Try one of these cheesecakes,” someone said.
“They must be good with the way everyone is swooning over them.”
I picked one of them up and removed the plastic wrap. After grabbing a small plastic spoon from the bowl in the center of the table, I scooped a spoonful into my mouth. My eyes widened as soon as the flavor hit my tongue.
Like most Black people did when something tasted exceptionally good, I looked at the mini cheesecake for an explanation as to why it tasted so unbelievably good.
“Where’d these come from?” I asked before eating another spoonful.
“If we tell you, we’ll have to kill you,” someone else said, causing everyone else to laugh.
“No, seriously. Who made these?” I asked again.
“We’re sworn to secrecy, Mr. Goode. We have to get back to work. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
The crowd scattered like roaches, leaving me virtually alone in the cafeteria. I looked around, and a few people were seated at the tables, finishing their lunch. I rushed to grab my lunch before the doors closed, and while chatting with the servers, I tried to get some intel on the person who made the cheesecakes.
“Margaret, are you the one responsible for those delicious cheesecakes out there?” I asked.
She smiled. “Unfortunately, Mr. Goode, I’m not, and before you ask me who is, I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“You and everyone else, apparently.”
“That’s right. The person responsible for that delicious treat doesn’t want to get in trouble, and we all promised to keep their identity a secret.”
“I find it hard to believe that so many of you are able to keep a secret like that.”
“Only a handful of us know who it is. Everyone else onlythinksthey know.”
“When you talk to this person again, please have them connect with me. I promise they aren’t in trouble.”
“I will relay the message. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too, Margaret.”
After grabbing the last two mini cheesecakes from the table, I went to my office to enjoy my lunch. When I finished eating, I went through the documents on my desk until it was time to head home.
For all intents and purposes, I ran the family business,Sweet, Savory, and Goode. On paper, my father, Kenzo II, was still the CEO, but he was months away from retirement and worked from home most days.
My grandfather, the original Kenzo, founded the company with my grandmother, Millie, who passed away about six years ago. He loved to bake, and she encouraged him to sell some of his items to their neighbors. Word traveled to other blocks in their southside neighborhood, and before long, people from all over the city were placing orders.
She was good with numbers and handled the business side of things while my grandfather did all the baking. Most people considered their dynamic untraditional, but it worked well for them. Eventually, they bought a storefront, then another, and the business continued to expand.
Today, we had twenty thriving locations across Illinois, with five in the Chicagoland area. The decision to keep all ourlocations in Illinois was intentional, and we had no immediate plans to set up shop in any other states.
We were very popular among professional athletes and entertainers in Illinois and other states, and we were hired for events of all kinds, so expanding right now wasn’t a priority, and I wasn’t sure it ever would be.
Our shops did extremely well and made our family millions, but money wasn’t our main focus. It was more important for us to produce good, quality desserts and maintain a pleasant work environment for our employees.
When I made it home, I pulled into my spot in our six-car garage. At thirty-four years of age, I still lived in our family home with no plans to move out. I was an only child, single, and had no children. It made no sense to move away from my family and waste money paying to live elsewhere.
The mini mansion we lived in was located in Orland Park, a Southwest suburb of Chicago, and it had more than enough room for the four of us. We had six bedrooms, all with their own bathrooms, and a full two-bedroom apartment in the basement, which was where I resided, so I had plenty of space and privacy.
We lived in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago until my junior year of college, when my parents bought this house. My cousin, Ronin, gave me shit about still living in my family home all the time, but I gave zero fucks. When I wanted pussy, I got a hotel room, or we went to her place. Other than that, I didn’t think it was necessary to live anywhere but here.
