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"You see the man talking to my husband? That’s his boss; she is his wife. Mrs. Evelyn Garston.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Maybe because his family practically developed the whole state.”
“Oh yes, of course. But why did she give me her card?”
“Evelyn is the quintessential hostess in our circle. She likes parties. Every time you sneeze, she’s planning another one. Let’s just say if she likes your stuff, you won’t need another client in this lifetime, and I already know she likes it, so congratulations.”
“I think I’m a bit lost.”
“Let’s put it this way: you see this crowd? This isn’t even a fraction of what her parties look like. It’s usually five hundred minimum. Then there’re the charities and galas; I almost pity you if you choose to work with her; you’d be kept on your toes. Remember, don’t undersell yourself. If we paid six dollars per cupcake, she has to pay eight or more.”
“Why is that?”
“That’s the rules, dear. No one outspends the Garstons. How would it look if she paid the same as us lesser peasants?”
“Are you? I mean, is she…?”
“No, believe it or not, she’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. Both her and her husband. They’ve been married since she was twenty-three, and he was in his late forties. Love at first sight, and he was a man who swore he would never get married. He spoils her rotten, and she adores him.”
I was a bit overwhelmed by all this. I guess I’d grown so accustomed to life kicking me in the ass that I second-guess everything these days. But what kind of fairy tale is this?
I hung around for another half an hour, then made my excuses and left, but not before Millie introduced me to a few more women who were interested in my desserts. I didn’t have a card, which made me feel inept for some reason, but I made excuses while reminding myself to look into it as soon as possible.
I spent the rest of the weekend on pins and needles because I’d looked up Evelyn and her husband, and Millie had not exaggerated; the woman seems to throw parties at least twice a week and more during the winter season.
I’m pretty sure she works with professional caterers with a more sophisticated setup than my kitchen. What the hell did I get myself into?
* * *
Monday morning,I woke up an hour early and got to work right away so that I could spare the time for the phone call since I didn’t know how long it was going to last. By the time I called her, I had flop sweat beneath my arms and was more nervous than when I went for my job interview.
“Millie tells me you work out of your home. That won’t do. Meet me at this place at noon; I’ll forward you the address.”
“What place?” She’d jumped right in after exchanging pleasantries, and I was beginning to think I was in way over my head.
“Did Millie tell you anything about me?”
“Not really, no, just that you’re a wonderful person.”
“That’s right, but one of the things about this wonderful person is she does not like to be questioned. See you at noon.” She hung up the phone.
Now I was even more nervous but there was nothing for it unless I planned on not going, which I got the feeling would be the biggest mistake after my wedding day. And I was right.
The place turned out to be an old storefront. I say old because the building had been in existence since before I was born, but it was a beauty. “Come on in.” Inside was wide and spacious, with an even more spacious back room.
“I could’ve found a bakery that was going under or something, but this location is perfect. If you agree, we can have the kitchen outfitted in two weeks.”
“Agree to what exactly?”
“My business proposition. I’m bored, Amanda. All I do all day is shop, and it’s getting on my nerves.”
“Every year, my husband and I take on a large project where we find a deserving cause and sink a boatload of money into it. Consider it our good deed for the year. I did some research on you. I know you have a passion for baking but went the financial route because, well, people need to eat and put a roof over their heads. I also know about your messy divorce; sorry, when I make up my mind to work with someone, I have to go to these lengths.”
“I understand if you’re not interested, there’s no pressure, but I like you. I watched you at the party and well, you remind me of someone that I could be friends with. But more importantly, these baked goods of yours are going to make you a very rich woman. Here’s what I propose.”
“Victor and I will foot the bill to get this place up to code as well as buy all the products you need to get started. We’ll take care of the business end of things. Do you have a lawyer?”
