Page 4 of Savage in the Sweets
Oh no, not him…
Donald Setland marches through the school’s double doors like he owns the place, and considering how people bend to his will, it’s almost like he does.
Could there possibly be a bigger douchebag in all of existence?
There’s no denying that he’s handsome, standing at least six feet tall with a distinct jawline and debonair good looks. I’m sure that’s what his wife saw in him because I can’t imagine it was his roving eyes and misplaced comments that caught her attention.
“Aw, Lacy,” Donald enthuses, sauntering up to my display counter. “Always someone I enjoy seeing.”
The words are awkward but intentional, and if I had any doubt, his wolfish grin assures me of what a creeper he is.
I smile brightly, knowing better than to piss off one of the richest men in Wilson’s Grove.
“Mr. Setland, how good it is to see you.” I hold out a cupcake. “Would you like a sweet treat to get you through the meeting?”
“I certainly would,” he says with a wink. “Though I have my eyes on a sweeter cupcake.”
“The blueberry ones with lemon frosting are my favorite” I reply back, trying to treat him like I would any other customer.
He stares me dead in the eyes, not even bothering to glance at the display. “That’s not the sugar rush I’m after.”
God, why must I suffer this?
“Did you leave Kate home with the little ones?” I ask.
His mouth downticks into a frown when I don’t take the bait.
“Yeah, it’s just me tonight.”
He pulls a ten from his wallet, places it on the counter, and grabs a chocolate cupcake.
“Keep the change,” he says, turning to take a seat near the front.
As much as I can’t stand the asshole, I can hardly turn my nose up at a seven-dollar tip.
Carolyn, a close friend of mine, comes through the door looking tired, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s baby throw up on her shirt.
“Hey.” She waves half-heartedly.
“Rough day?”
Her shoulder slump. “You have no idea. I usually don’t go to these things, but I just had to get away from the minions.”
She buys a cake pop and leaves to pass out in a chair.
Good for her.
Irene walks through the door and gives me a tight smile before averting her gaze.
That’s odd…
Next, a group of PTA members enter and rush over to the counter.
“Do ya have any pineapple upside-down cupcakes left?” one asks.
“They’re gone, but I have two left in cake pop form.” I hold a golden-colored pop up. Tiny flecks of candied pineapple shine from the surface.
The woman’s brow furrows. “Cake pop?”
