Page 5 of His Sassy Omega
Me:I can google with the best of them.
Wade:You don’t google with the best of them. You just hit the keys on your phone really hard andhope for the best.
I might still be grouchy, I might want to be avoiding this day entirely, knowing Wade wouldn’t be in the office to keep me on point, and to get me out of this funk I’d fallen into, but at least I’d have excellent coffee, and whatever treat my heart desired. Today might be a double-treat day.
I glanced at the time on my phone, groaning. Thanks to my extra-long run, and letting my wolf out to get his run on, I was behind schedule.
It was definitely going to be an extra treat kind of day.
Chapter Two
Quinn
I looked at my emails and sighed. There were a lot of them. A LOT.
Not that I wasn’t happy about all the online orders. I was.
But holy fuck, there were a ton of orders.
When I’d opened my bakery slash coffee shop, The Sweet Spot,two years ago, I never imagined it would become so popular. I’d started out baking at home, making cookies in my kitchen as a hobby. I’d always loved baking, and trying to figure out what to major in at college had stressed me out. Baking had always been a stress reliever for me. I’d posted a few of my creations on my social media account, and started receiving requests for orders. Things had quickly grown from there, thanks to word of mouth and more social media postings, and a year later I’d been able to open my very own shop.
My grandmother, Gigi –do not call me grandma, thank you very much, that is for old people– had convinced me it was time to expand, into an actual brick and mortar. To be brave and take the plunge. She was the bravest person I knew, so I’d done it. She was also the craziest person I knew, and I probably should have remembered that.
Quitting college to follow my dreams of baking had been the scariest thing I’d ever done. I’d thought my alpha dad, the conservative financial planner, was going to stroke out for a minute when I’d told my parents my plan. I’d laid out my business plan, with my finances and all the numbers for my dad, knowing that was the only way I would be able to get him on board with my crazy plan. I’m not sure I convinced him that night, but he’d always been supportive of me, and he’d stayed supportive. Once the almost stroke had been staved off.
My artist, omega mom had been all for me following my dreams. Honestly, I’d known she would be behind it, one hundred percent. But my mom was nothing if not a dream follower, and my dad loved her for it.
So, The Sweet Spot had been born. We now had specialty coffee drinks, along with cookies, cupcakes, scones, and any number of other baked items. We’d managed to build quite a following in a fairly short time, and with the Thanksgiving holiday behind us, everyone was in go mode for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, which were just around the corner.
I started printing out the online orders. It was one of the first things I did every day. Once printed, I would sort by expected dates, easy orders, special orders, rush orders, and on and on. My days started super early, and I would check the online orders once I had the first batches of goodies in the oven. We opened at six each morning, and people expected our cases to be filled with freshly baked items.
It was the Monday after the Thanksgiving holiday, and we were now in official Christmas craziness. This was the second Christmas holiday the storefront had been open, so we had an idea of what to expect from the previous year.
Skimming through some of the orders, there were several for larger, specialty items for upcoming Christmas functions. Both from businesses and individuals. Since the bakery had grown so much in the past two years,so seemed the Christmas demands, judging by the orders that had filled our company website.
We were going to be busy.
Thankfully, one of my employees, Josh, had recently taken an interest in the baking side of things and had started apprenticing. He was an absolute genius when it came to decorating sugar cookies. His flooding technique was almost as good as mine.
Almost.
I snorted, reading an email from my best friend, Wade. He only emailed when he was on “official work business”, as he called it. Any other time it was a text, phone call, or FaceTime.
Wade and I had met when we were six years old, and he’d moved next door to me. Like me, he was an omega, and he might possibly be the only person I knew who could give me a run for my money in the sass department. Gigi would snort and call him a brat, which was probably true.
They’d still been unloading the delivery truck with his family’s furnishings when he’d marched his skinny, six-year-old-self up our walk. He’d knocked on our door, stating he’d seen this house had kids, and could they come out to play? As I was the only kid in the house – and had remained the only kid my entire life – I’d shrugged, looked his petite form up and down, and decided I didn’t have much to lose by playing with him. We’d been best friends ever since. Both of us had been only children and remained so, but we considered each other brothers. I started reading his email.
Yo,
The crazy arse boss man alpha I work for may have heard you were trying out savory scones, along with your sweet ones. Okay, he heard it from me.
The savory scones weren’t on my official menu yet, just some new recipes I’d been trying out at home. Wade was a good taste tester for me, so healways got to try the goodies before anyone. He also was the personal assistant for one of the richest alphas in town, Lachlan Sinclair.
Wade had let it slip that his boss had a massive, sweet tooth, and I let him take new, possible menu items in for them both to try. I’d liked getting unbiased feedback from someone other than Wade.
I always got a kick out of Wade’s emails to me, as they were never written with any kind of professionalism. Though I had doubts if Wade acted all that professionally, even at work. There was a lot of British slang in his email this morning, which usually meant one thing. Wade was a huge James Bond junkie, and adored any and all fan fiction pairing 007 with the ever brilliant, yet nerdy, Q.
Anyhoo, he wants you to cater the breakfast/brunch thingy for the company before he closes us for the holidays. He really is very vague on what he wants, the wanker. I’m sure he just expects me to figure it out. I mean I always do, but really, throw me a bone here.
