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Her chin shot out, defensive and proud. “They’re mini.”
“They’re delicious. People would pay more.”
“I know my business better than some random bartender.” She re-folded her arms under her tits. “My charcuterie cups are eight-fifty. No one wants to deal with quarters, so they inevitably buy a cupcake to even out the cost.”
“Hmmm. Smart, but have you thought about offering a discount for adding a cupcake to the meat cup while charging more individually? Two bucks a piece surely won’t alienate your clientele.”
I hadn’t thought it possible, but her chin jutted out more, and it was cute as hell. “I’m good. Thanks for the unsolicited and unneeded advice.”
“That didn’t sound very sincere, and I kinda think you did need it. You’re missing out on money in your pocket.”
Her upper lip curled into a snarl. “There’s a German word for people like you.”
“Cool, it's German lesson time.” I patted my chest. “Hit me with it.”
“Backpfeifengesicht.”
I cocked my head. “I can’t say I’m familiar with the term.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t expect you would be.”
I laughed as she walked away again, her skirt bouncing with each step.
I Googled the term, using the best spelling I could manage, and laughed even harder. Dear fucking god, I was never telling my brother this. He would undoubtedly agree I indeed had a face badly in need of a fist.
Chapter Three
Daisy
One night of de-rotting myself had done good things. I’d woken without an anvil on my chest, and climbing out of bed hadn’t been the daunting task it had been for weeks.
When I returned to High Bar the next evening, I found myself looking for him. But not because I wanted to see him. No, avoidance was my main priority. He would not be seeing my new price list. We’d met once, and I didn’t know his name, but I could already picture his smug expression.
Nope.
Wasn’t happening.
He could take his good advice and handsome, punchable face and shove it.
The problem was, my mood had lifted so much, I’d gotten in early enough to bring my favorite people small boxes of cupcakes. I’d given Duke his on my way in and had received the bear hug to end all bear hugs.
Bea stopped in front of me, just like she had last night, giving a long once over. “Still not dead, I see.”
“Alive, and so well, I made you your favorite Funfetti cupcakes.” I dropped a small, pink box on her half-filled tray.
“Pffft. I don’t like Funfetti,” she grumbled, even though we both knew very well she did. “I guess I’ll eat them anyway. Thanks.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you enjoy them.”
Lloyd was behind the bar mixing a drink when I propped myself on a stool in front of him.
“Cupcakes for my cupcake,” I said wryly.
His brow slowly lifted. “Red velvet?”
“Of course. Have I ever given you anything else?”
“Nope.” He finished his drink and opened the box, his dark eyes lighting. “Someone might get the idea you’re in love with me.”
