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It’s Wednesday afternoon, three weeks since the flood, and we’ve been in the venue’s small meeting room for almost forty minutes. She’s tried all six cupcake flavors, asked about quantities, and made me explain how I’m getting the display here. I’ve shown her the stands I plan to rent and the boxes I use for transport. I even have backup transportation, thanks to Ellie putting me in touch with a woman who rents out her catering van.

It would cut into my profit, but at least I wouldn’t be stranded somewhere with five hundred people’s dessert because Sprinkles decided to be a bitch.

"The brown butter is my favorite," Juliet says, reaching for her water. "But I’d keep the lemon cheesecake, chocolate caramel, and blueberry honey too. That gives us a good range."

I write that down even though I’m fairly sure I’ll remember it until I die.

She checks the bottom of the proposal, then looks up at me. "I’d like to go ahead."

My pen stops moving.

"With all four flavors?" I ask, because apparently that’s the part my brain has decided to question.

"All four, and both cake pops." She smiles. "I’ll send the agreement this afternoon. If you can confirm the final quantities and return it by Friday, I can have the deposit processed."

"Yes. Absolutely." I look down at my paper, then back at her. "Thank you."

"You came prepared. That makes my job easier." She sets her fork on the plate. "And I may need you to leave the rest of the lemon."

"You can have all of it."

"Don’t offer that until you’ve met the committee."

I laugh, and this time I don’t have to work at it. I got it. I have an actual agreement coming for a dessert table with my business name on it. Ellie’s already agreed to help me, which still will be tough with just the two of us, but we can do it. The rest of it, I’ll worry about after I’ve made it back to the truck and I’ve caught my breath, and my cheeks stop hurting from smiling so wide.

"I can’t believe I’m getting to work with this organization. Honestly, this feels kind of like a full circle moment with Beau playing for the NHL this year." I start putting the unused napkins into my bag. "They helped my family so much after Beau got hurt. Surgeries, therapy… I don’t know how my parents would have managed without them."

"Speaking of Beau, he’ll be in town that week for the San Diego game, right?"

"Yes. Our parents are coming too."

"Do you think he’d be willing to say a few words at the gala? Hearing from someone who’s back on the ice means a lot to the athletes we help."

"He’ll be here for the game that Wednesday. I can ask whether he could stay until Friday."

"Please do. I’ll send you the details, and I can arrange tickets for your parents too."

"My mother would love that."

Juliet smiles. "Let me know when you hear from him. If he can fit us in, we’ll make him a top honored guest and put him on the program as a key speaker for the evening."

She walks me down to the service entrance and shows me the route to the room where the display will go. I take pictures, check the doorway against the width of my cart, and write down where I’m allowed to park. By the time I’m back outside, I have three more things on my list and no excuse to keep standing beside Sprinkles grinning at my phone.

I call Beau before I start the truck. He answers with a groan.

"Bad time?" I ask.

"Just got out of therapy. Tell me something good."

"I got the gala contract."

"For the foundation?" I can hear his voice pick up. At least I can give him good news.

"Yes."

"Baylor, that’s fucking great."

I grin at the steering wheel. "Juliet wants to know if you’d come say a few words. About what they did for you. That is, if you can stay in town through to Friday."