Page 86 of Rockstar Baby
I shrugged. “Add in some coconut milk, a few coconut shavings, and voila, new menu item that doesn’t cost you a thing.”
Macy followed my recipe then put the blender back on the base. She dumped the rest of the concoction into a to-go cup and set it in front of the blond girl. “On the house.”
“Really?” The girl shoved her cash into her pocket. She took a straw out and pierced the top. “Oh, wow.” Her eyes were almost comically wide with her winged liner. “Yeah, make more of these. My boyfriend will want one.” She took a bigger gulp. “Can I get another free one?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
The girl smiled tightly. “Right. I’ll pay.”
Macy stepped back. “All right, red. Show me what you got.”
“You made it fine.”
“You’re the ice cream expert.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t?” She gave me a bland look.
“I said I know my ice cream.” But I quickly lined up the ingredients she had and made a few alterations, then set the final product in front of her. “There you go.”
Macy flipped over a mug and poured some for herself. “It doesn’t suck.”
I laughed. High praise from the thorny proprietress. She was definitelyatake it or leave itsort.
“I’m looking to do something fun for the summer. Interested in a job?” She poured the shake and handed it to one of the café girls. “Charge for a small coffee.”
“You sure?” The dark-haired girl asked.
“Yeah, it’s an experiment.”
“You got it.”
Macy turned back to me. “So, how about it?”
I nibbled my lower lip. It was tempting to take the job, but I really wanted to do something of my own instead of always working around someone else’s idea. “I’m actually trying to get an ice cream truck going for the summer.”
“Like a Mr. Ding-A-Ling?”
“Not quite. More like specialized, homemade ice cream. I’m looking for a spot to park my truck.” I twisted my fingers. It was the first time I’d actually told someone about it beyond my friends and family—and Rory. “Lots of paperwork.”
“Well if your ice cream tastes anything like that concoction—”
“Better,” I blurted out.
“We’ll see.”
Breathe, Ivy.
“How big is this truck?”
My stomach flipped, excitement and nerves twisting together. “It’s a repurposed taco truck.”
Macy tapped one long finger on her folded arms. “I’d have to see it.”
“I just started painting it.”
“How long do you think you’ll need?”
