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With our arms covered in mitts, I took out the cupcakes, and Sasha tended to the brownies.
“I want you to know that I’m only keeping my mouth shut about what you’re doing because I love you,” she said. “But weeks from now, long after you’ve cashed the check for tonight’s date, I’m going to have a shit ton to say.”
“Thank you for holding it in for now.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
My “date” was with my ex-boyfriend across town, and for the first time since we broke up, I was grateful that he existed.
Instead of going with one of the premier bakeries for his engagement party, he’d commissioned me to fulfill a huge order.
Was that tacky and sad? Yes.
But I honestly couldn’t afford to turn down his request.
I couldn’t turn downanyone.
He wanted eight hundred cupcakes, two hundred triple-layer brownies, and a three-tier vanilla cake. The profit from his order was enough to cover two months' rent and a chair.
Making sure everything was perfectly wrapped, I placed the boxes into Sasha’s car and rode with her to Tribeca.
Sasha
I'm glad we got everything inside okay.
I’m parked down the street in front of Luna’s. I still hate his ass & I can’t be fake, not even for you. Sorry, not sorry. <3
I laughedand set down the last cupcake on the stand. Then I searched around the party for Eric.
“Hey, here’s the invoice for everything,” I said to him. “This party looks amazing.”
“Thank you!” Hesmiled. “I spent like ten thousand on the lights alone. I’m hoping this will impress her parents.”
“I’m sure it will.” I watched three men carry an ice sculpture. “I can come pick up the check after the party or in the morning, if that would be easier.”
“No, I’d rather handle it now.” He took the invoice. “It’s not like it’s—four thousand dollars? Are you fucking kidding me, Harlow?”
“I gave you a twenty percent discount and baked a dozen extra of everything.”
He looked over the sheet, shaking his head. “I reached out to you about this gig because I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“What?”
“I thought the exposure to some of my Wall Street friends would be good for you,” he said. “I still kind of feel bad for the way we ended, you know?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t know, Eric. Why don’t you explain how asking me to pour my blood, sweat, and tears into hundreds of cupcakes is some type of favor after finding you in bed with my neighbor.”
“In all fairness, she’s my fiancée now.”
“I should’ve known…” I was seconds away from losing it.
“I wasn’t expecting you to draft up an actual invoice like a professional with a little logo and shit.” He laughed, pointing at the art I’d paid someone five hundred dollars to create. “Harlow’s Hearts? That’s a cute name and all, but it’s not like you’re a professional pastry chef.”
“Eric,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm. “I can’t afford to do stuff like this for free, and my landlord doesn’t accept exposure for rent payments. So, can you at least pay me half, and we’ll discuss this later?”
“So, you want two thousand dollars?” He scoffed. “For some desserts?”
“For somecustomdesserts. Yes.”
