Page 8 of The Alpha and the Baker
“Oh!” He reached into the messenger bag at his side. “I grabbed the jam on my way out. I also have our homemade sweet cream. It’s great stuff.”
He produced one massive quart jar and then another, and although it was unorthodox, I was a little impressed. Clearly whoever made the cakes for his family reunion had been prepared, but something had happened with the oven. Hopefully, it had been a simple accident rather than someone getting hurt, which allowed the cakes to burn.
“Even if I was willing to use outside products, I’m not sure I can deliver what you’re asking for.”
“Honestly, even one would be amazing. I just don’t want there to benothing.” He must have clocked the dubious look onmy face because his massive shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Look, I don’t want to guilt you, and I understand that my family will survive just fine without a cake. But my niece is going to blame herself if there’s absolutely nothing there, and I’m sure you understand why I’dreallywant to avoid that.”
Huh.
There was a sincerity in his voice and tone, along with a whole lot of worry. I was used to people trying to get me to pity them, but this didn’t seem like that. He was just explaining why it was so important to them.
“I… I can do at least one cake, yeah. I’ll attempt to do the others, but no guarantee.”
“Thank you,” the man said, his smile nearly cracking his face in two, andman,was it dazzling. “Oh! We never discussed the price. How much do you usually charge?”
“Normally it would be one-fifty for the multilayer sheet cake, but since you’ve brought two of the ingredients, I can do it for one-twenty. The other sheet cakes would also be one-twenty each.”
I waited for him to huff at my prices. Although I tried to keep them low, I couldn’t get the same wholesale discounts that mega places could.
“So, that’s about three sixty?”
“Yes. Plus tax.”
“Right. Okay, since this is a rush job, how about six hundred if you’re able to do all three? I’ll put a deposit down now of one-twenty for the first cake. Oh, and I hate to ask, but do you deliver?”
“I do. I usually charge by the mile.”
“We’re about a twenty-four-minute drive from the city, so how about a hundred for delivery?”
It was taking all of my willpower not to have dollar signs pop out of my eyes. This guy was offering to pay me nearly double.
DOUBLE!
He must really love that niece of his.
Normally I would never put money ahead of producing quality work, but with that kind of payout… Well, not only would I use a bunch of stock that was about to go bad, but it would also get me out of the red for the month.Andgive me a great step ahead for the next month as well. Not to mention, if this family reunion was big enough to need threesheet cakes, then there was a pretty high chance of me being able to win at least a couple of new people over as customers.
“You sir, have yourself a deal,” I said, offering him my hand.
I didn’t think his smile could grow any bigger, but it most certainly did.
“Really? God, thank you so much! You’re making a lot of folk’s day, I’ll have you know! If you wanna ring me up, I’ll pay that deposit, then go tell them the good news. Oh, and you’ll need my number for delivery, right?”
His joy was infectious. He reminded me of something Roald Dahl had said about lovely people on the inside having it shine through their exterior. I’d just met the guy, but he was definitely shinin’.
“Yes, I will. And you said you’d want me there around four?”
“Yeah. Earlier is plenty welcome if you can, but five is when it’ll be a bit late. I want people to be able to enjoy the cake and digest it before we go on our night run.”
“Night run?” I asked curiously.
“Uh… yeah. You know. Celebrating spring by enjoying a cool night run instead of a frigid winter run.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured. “I’ll take your word for it.”
I wasn’t really a runner. While I was kind of average-sized, I had a softness around my middle from sampling so many of my own goods. But I didn’t mind it. I was fairly confident in how I looked. All I’d really want to change about myself was beinga few inches taller so I could reach the top shelves more easily, having bigger hands to use male-geared culinary tools better, and maybe not being a part of the itty-bitty titty committee. My modest, barely-B cups did their best, but they weren’t exactly overflowing.
My rear, however, more than made up for it, and it was just hard for me to feel bad about myself when I had athiccass.
