No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(11)
I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms while I eased back, putting a good couple of feet between us. In desperation, I vowed to maintain said safe minimum distance at all times.
Slowly, she turned to face me again. Confident, proud, a woman now in charge of herself, body and mind, Hannah nodded. “I promise too. No matter our attraction, we keep it strictly business.”
I blew out a fast breath through tight lips. “Good. With you and me both working on that, it’ll be a lot easier.”
A slow smile crept onto her face, a devilish gleam sparking in her eyes. “Oh? You mean if I didn’t play along, things could get difficult for you?”
My face fell. She wouldn’t. Would she?
She placed a palm on my chest, smiling sweetly. “It’s okay, Cade. I promise not to tease you…too much.”
Dammit. Just when I thought I had my shit together, something (or someone) proved me wrong. I silently cursed fate for throwing me into this situation. But I was unable to do anything but suck it up and deal, so I followed her inside and back into her kitchen.
She pulled a second, larger silver platter up from a shelf beneath one of her long counters and began loading the first tray with a balanced assortment of cupcakes. “Well, don’t just stand there—help me stock up. You’re carrying one this time. That was amazing, by the way. You’re a genius. They all wanted a card.”
I blindly obeyed her, lining cupcakes onto the platter, giving my body time to rush blood back into my brain so I could think rationally. Business. Focus on her business. “And those people are your walk-in customers. Pennies. You want the big bucks? Solicit backdoor business: hotels and restaurants. They could be your biggest regular customers and might mean the difference between your survival and failure.”
Pausing with a cupcake in midtransfer, she gave me one of those world-class scowls again. “I thought you wanted my exclusivity.”
“We do. As the team member of an event-planning company. But you can still supply cakes and cupcakes as menu items for restaurants and hotels who don’t have a pastry chef and want to outsource.”
“Oh.” She blinked, processing my suggestion as she returned to loading her tray.
While making sure to load two of each kind, I glanced beyond her at the enormous cake with green icing that I’d watched her finish yesterday. “What’s that one for?”
She looked up as I pointed. A blush spread along her cheeks. “For me.”
Confused, I cocked my head.
“I wanted to create a dragon. That’s part of the body.”
All I saw was a rectangle. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“In my head. It’s so intricate that I wanted to get the scales right before moving on to the detail in the tail, the claws on the arms and legs, the webbing in the wings, and finally the head, complete with horns and flames coming from its flaring nostrils.”
“Wow.” Based on the beautiful scales she’d done on the body, I imagined the final cake. “Where will you serve it?”
She tilted her head to the side, her gaze unfocused. “Not sure. If I accept your offer, I won’t have a chance for anyone to see it unless one of your clients requests a dragon.”
My attention focused on only one of her words. “If you accept our offer?”
“I haven’t even read the contract yet.”
I lifted her loaded platter, shoving it in front of her, forcing her to take it with her hands. “Well, hurry up, Ms. Martin. We have more unwitting customers to ensnare in our cupcake trap. And I have to make you feel so indebted to me for my brilliant assistance that you have no choice but to say yes.”
“You’re indebted to me, smartass. You’ve eaten how many cupcakes?”
Unable to think of a quick retort to her valid point, I blinked. Then my thoughts clarified, and I dropped a bomb. “I expect you to read that contract the moment you return home today. I’ve moved our deadline for your response up to tomorrow noon.”
Her tone was instantly glacial. “If that’s your decision, then it’s a no.”
While walking out of her kitchen, I stumbled as my mind processed her words. I spun back around and leaned my filled tray back toward her. “I’m sorry. Did you want the invaluable marketing and business advice to stop?”
Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
I arched a brow. “Then that’s a yes?”
“No.” She took a deep breath and sighed, nodding toward the front of the shop. “That’s a yes for you helping me now. A maybe for me helping you later.”
“Sunday. Noon,” I pushed.
She gave me a steady stare. “We’ll see.”
I exhaled a breath, relieved we were back on track again. Note to self: hardball tactics bring out the Ice Queen.
The rain had dissipated by the time my wheels hit the pavement that night for my shift at Loading Zone. Shiny reflections lit up Philly’s revived Old City Arts District where I called home four nights a week, for at least the next few months anyway.
Fifteen minutes from my house wasn’t bad. The ride was twenty to Kristen’s. Ninety to Mom and Dad’s on Fifth. Twelve to Sweet Dreams. Yeah, my head constantly spat out numbers. No surprise, the last was a hot little number I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all day.