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She seemed to still be frosty when she got to him and it kind of broke his heart again to know he deserved it. He couldn't blame her, but he kind of hoped he could win her over somehow. After all, if her cake was any indication, he was almost positive that she was going to be the new dessert caterer for the arena.
Chapter Four
Maggie watched as some of the leftover desserts from the night came back to the serving station for the suites in the arena, thankful that she had this chance to show off her bakery's skills.
It was a little questionable about whether the bakery would get this far after her presentation two weeks ago, but she powered through and it seemed to pay off.
She still was a little bitter about her black cherry chocolate cake being destroyed even if it was destroyed by the team's owner. Sure, he was remorseful, and yes, he was hot. But she wondered if that was why they were making her bakery do a test run first instead of just giving them the contract. Perhaps they wanted to make sure she could put a cake in the middle of a box instead of getting all of them crushed on the way to the suites.
Luckily, the cakes made it this time and there were very few pieces coming back from the suites.
The oatmeal raisin cookies, however, were another story. Grocery store shoppers loved them but sports fans apparently weren't impressed.
"Hey, Maggie. How's it going?" She turned to see Joann, who was in charge of catering for the suites, come over to check on the leftovers. "Oh, bummer about the oatmeal raisin."
"How bad is it really?"
"They tasted great to me," Joann said. "But Detroit is a big rival so I think there were more rowdy fans who wanted chocolate chip than the executive types who get free tickets and eat the oatmeal raisin."
Maggie looked down at the pile of leftover cookies. "Do I need to think about changing the menu up based on who the Otters are playing?"
"Only for a few teams."
Joann started directing some of the workers to pack up the leftovers for Maggie to take in her truck. Her bakery had a deal with a local homeless shelter to donate leftovers rather than throw them out so she made sure to include that in the tryout contract. Maggie was grateful to watch the food get packed up so she would have something to donate and also happy that there wasn't that much. Maybe it was a good sign that the night was successful.
"We'll leave that waiting for you by the back gate," Joann said. "You can pick them up after you see Charlie."
Maggie's head whipped around. "After I what?"
"Charlie wanted to see you. He's just down the hall in the owner's suite." Joann leaned in a little closer and gave Maggie's arm a gentle squeeze. "I think you had a great showing tonight."
"Thanks," she replied with a smile.
Joann went back to directing the catering team on what to do with extra dinner items and plates and silverware, practically forgetting that Maggie was still standing there. It made sense though. Maggie's job was pretty much done for the night while Joann still had plenty of work to do.
Maggie had other things to do anyway like meet the owner. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was he going to tell her he was giving the job to her bakery?
Was he going to apologize?
To give him credit, Charlie did say he was sorry to her the day he shoved his hand in her cake and he did seem remorseful. She was still holding a bit of a grudge though and she was pretty sure he deserved it.
Maggie took a deep breath and started heading to the owner's suite. She would have to face him eventually as he was the owner and the one who would be the deciding factor on whether they would get the contract for the arena.
The hallway curved around following the curve of the arena and she kept checking the numbers on the doors until she got to one that didn't have a number, only a name.
Westmore.
She figured she was in the right place, but was she supposed to knock or just walk in? It was a suite, not an office, so she wasn't really sure about the etiquette. But she was determined to be strong and assertive, prove that her business deserved this opportunity. So walk right in was the decision.
The suite was different than the other ones with a few more televisions along one wall and different pieces of furniture that looked more comfy and less corporate suite. Right in the middle of it was Charlie, casually leaning on the high-top table in the center of the room as he stared down at his phone in front of him with a plate just to his right.
She recognized the dessert on the plate. Black cherry chocolate cake. Two slices.
She watched as he took a fork to one of them, breaking off a big bite and stuffing it in his mouth with a few crumbs falling on the table in front of him. He didn't seem to notice them.
"Hey, question for you," he said without looking up. "Do you think I'm hot?"
"What?"
