Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Don’t forget—my mom will be here tomorrow. She knows you’re both coming in at noon and are pretty much in charge. She’s promised not to step on your toes.”
“We love your mom. And don’t worry—everything will be okay. You should just focus on having a good time,” Rachelle says.
“I know it will be,” I agree. Then I add, “Now go make cookies.”
I laugh at the girls as they jump and dance their way to the back kitchen. I wasn’t sure about hiring two high school girls to work for me, but it was one of the best decisions I’ve made, and not just because their friends are always coming in to hang out—which means they spend money while they’re here. No, both girls are hardworking, sweet, and dependable. I work so much that I see them more than I see my family or even my best friend, so we’re close . . . or as close as a thirty-three-year-old woman can be with two seventeen-year-old girls.
One thing I know for sure is it’s going to suck when I lose them after this summer, when they both go away for college. With a heavy sigh, I grab a few napkins and dampen them, then walk across the shop and hand them to the mom, who mouths Thank you before cleaning off her son’s cute little face. I head back to the counter, straightening up along the way.
Ever since I was five, I knew I wanted to own a bakery, and my parents took me seriously enough to start saving money for me. When I graduated from high school, they told me what they’d done but said they wouldn’t give me access to the funds until after I’d completed culinary school and a few business-management classes. I agreed and went to one of the best culinary schools in New York City and took night classes for business management. After I graduated, I moved back home and got a job at a café in town to gain experience; then I worked my way up to manager. I was there for almost ten years, and during that time I saved enough to open the Sweet Spot.
I have never regretted my decision, not for a single day. Even now, as I look around at the bright-yellow chairs and cupcake-shaped napkin dispensers sitting in the middle of pink tables as well as the cupcakes brightly painted on the walls of my shop, I know I’m living a dream come true.
Now I just need to finish up my best friend’s wedding cake and get it to Tennessee so I can watch her marry that man of hers. I’ll figure out what to do about Gaston when I get home.
Suggestion 2
GO AFTER WHAT YOU WANT
GASTON
“What?” I bark at the knock on my office door.
“Jesus, what crawled up your ass?” my best friend, Luke, asks while closing the door before walking across the room to take a seat opposite me.
“Nothing. What did you need?” I lean back in my chair and rub the bridge of my nose in an attempt to get rid of the headache that’s been steadily building behind my eyes for the past few days.
“Is your piss-poor attitude because of the chick you sent flowers to?” He studies me, and my jaw clenches and unclenches. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess by your sunny demeanor that she still hasn’t called.”
No, she hasn’t called, and that shouldn’t piss me off, but it does. I don’t even know the woman who’s suddenly consumed my mind. But what I do know is she’s gorgeous, with a beautiful full figure my hands and mouth itch to explore and a sense of humor that makes my dick hard. “Did you need something, or are you just here to annoy me?”
“Just go to her job and talk to her,” he says, ignoring my question.
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be awkward.” I scrub my hand through my hair. “I sent her flowers with my number and haven’t heard from her.” I shake my head and do the math. It’s been five days since I sent the bouquet. “She’s obviously not interested.” Isn’t that a kick to the gut? The first woman I’m actually interested in pursuing isn’t interested in me.
“Cammy didn’t want anything to do with me when we met; she thought I was a player and was just trying to get into her pants.”
“You were a player, and you were trying to get into her pants,” I point out.
“I was a player until I met her. Getting in her pants was a bonus.” He shrugs while grinning; then he sits forward with a serious look on his face. “The point is, I didn’t let her push me away and I didn’t give up, because I knew she was as into me as I was her. I just had to convince her to see things my way.”