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My eyebrows hit my hairline in surprise.
“That’s high praise from you, especially considering you haven’t even tasted her food.”
“I’m telling you I’ve got a great feeling about Avery. No one I’ve met who can decorate desserts that skillfully has ever served me something that tasted like shit. All she needs is a nudge in the right direction and an official certification. Mark my words, she’ll be unstoppable after that.”
“Wait,” I say, holding up my hand. “Avery Ross?”
He cocks his head to the side. “How did you know that?”
“She’s on my roster too—business practices.”
“How strange. She’s on my roster as well—psychology of marketing,” adds Phillip.
“Honestly, good for her,” I say approvingly. “If I were a scholarship student, I’d be squeezing every last drop I possibly could out of the experience.”
“We should make sure we coordinate with each other in terms of scheduling so she doesn’t get burned out. The best teaching techniques in the world won’t stick for love nor money if she gets overwhelmed.”
“Why are the two of you looking at me like I’ve grown a second head? It’s Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, guys. If she’s not sleeping well or getting any of her physical needs met because her schedule is overloaded, she’s not going to retain nearly as much as she could have if she had those needs met. You want to set her up for success? Then we’re going to need to work very closely with her and each other.”
“Bridget Callahan close?” Wesley says, waggling his eyebrows.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he scolds. “She’s our student, not our plaything.”
That sobers him up right away.
“You’re right, I was being a pig,” he says contritely. “On a less sexist note, did you want a sneak peek of who you’re going to meet before your initial meeting?”
“Seriously, Wesley? Are you stalking her or something?” I ask, horrified.
“Cut me some slack, will you? Reginald showed me her application, and she mentioned her website. It has links to all her professional socials and her vlog. Her portfolio really impressed me, so I started following her channel.
“If Reginald decided to be a prick and deny her a scholarship, I wanted a way to contact her so I could try and get her on staff at Fantasy Flavors. Still might try and hire her now. Her decorating skills alone could help us break into an entirely new strata of clientele.”
“She’s really impressed you, hasn’t she?”
“You have no idea.”
“You certainly piqued my curiosity,” Phillip admits. “Why don’t you pull up her pages and show us?”
“It’ll be easier if I text it to you.”
I click the link as soon as I get it.
Anyone who can get Wesley mooning like this without even having a bite of their food must be someone very impressive, indeed.
“Website’s user friendly. Very easy to navigate.” I nod approvingly. “Could use a little refining, but overall, nicely done.”
“Oh, who cares,” Wesley says impatiently. “Look at the cakes.”
I roll my eyes but indulge him anyway.
Wow.
I don’t know much about baking (I only speak grill) but I know enough to be impressed.
“You’re sure she’s never had any formal training?”
“Completely self-taught. I told you she was impressive,” he says smugly.
