Page 11 of Semi Sweet (Working For Love #1)

A t first, a small part of me wanted to believe that Evan was doing this.

It was wishful thinking that maybe our relationship wasn't as dead as I thought it was.

Ever since he got his big promotion, he was all business, doing anything he could to further his career.

Sometimes I benefited from it. A distributor would thank the family for featuring them in their store and we would go out for an occasional upscale dinner since Grandma Detta didn't like to dine out now that her husband was gone.

Otherwise it was takeout or a simple meal, Bourbon, and boredom.

We rarely went on vacations because he was too focused on work.

He wanted to continue the legacy his grandparents created and someday he'd be able to reap and enjoy the rewards.

That's why I felt like our relationship made no sense.

I was probably a big let down for the Quitteros.

I didn't come from money and I didn't have the same vision the family had for my future.

I was definitely not someone Evan would send gifts to.

So who was it? I still found myself thinking about the rose cupcake and the note later that night while I worked on a finance paper that required tedious source listing. People were liking and commenting on Semi Sweet 's most recent post.

Gorgeous!

How can you eat something so beautiful?

Don't want to be that guy, but I think someone is trying to get into your pants. Beware!

I snorted at the last comment. Was it bad that sometimes I also wondered what this person's motives were?

More importantly, where were they getting these cupcakes and why was Sean letting them use outside treats?

That, or someone in the bakery was way too talented to work at Cash Value Market and was not following policy.

I moved on to editing my manuscript and changed my browser tab quickly when Evan entered our bedroom adjacent to my office just in case he decided to come in. I didn't need him to lecture me about something else. Plus, didn't it bother him that someone was giving me edible presents?

That was the saddest thing about all of this.

Evan was so busy preparing to take over the Cash Value Market fortune, he had no idea what was going on.

I wasn't about to tell him either. I was sure it wouldn’t go along with his whole idea of keeping up appearances.

He didn't need to know. Just like he didn't need to know about the Semi Sweet page or that most of the smiles I wore for him were fake.

I often wondered what he would think if he knew that if it wasn't for the financial stability and the crippling shame of breaking up with him, I'd rather live in a refrigerator box sometimes.

Yeah, I couldn't really go there. As I often reminded myself, I had walked away from my own family for Evan.

The money and the handsome face had to be enough.

As I continued to sit there, I couldn't shake the thought that if this mystery person frequented Cash Value Market, they had to know my connection to the Quittero family.

They had to know I was engaged. So why? Why risk the fall out?

The only thing I could think of was whoever they were, they were as reckless as I was.

I continued to write when Evan told me not to.

I watched my Japanese dramas and space operas when he wasn't home.

Maybe this person knew about my fiancé and didn't care.

That thought made things very interesting.

***

The next day, I got into work a few minutes early with a note of my own. Handwritten, because a typed one would have drawn too much attention to my already judgmental fiancé.

I should have known that nothing good would come of this.

I should just ignore this person's gifts and say “no thank you” when the bakery employees offered them to me.

I knew it was wrong that this was more important to me than planning a wedding, but with how everything had been with Evan, I knew I'd be in denial until I was literally standing at the altar.

Life was too short. I needed to be in control of something in my life.

I needed to know who was playing this game with me.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to thank them or ask them why, but I was adamant about getting answers one way or another.

With trembling limbs, I walked to the bakery hoping to tell one of the employees my plan, but instead only Sean was out on the floor, making displays of cookies look nice.

I kind of wished it was anyone else. Ever since I smacked into him that day, I was embarrassed to interact with him because he probably thought I was insane.

When I finally got to talk to him and potentially redeem myself, Evan came and made things awkward.

What would he think of me pursuing this cupcake thing?

I almost feared he'd tell Evan if I wasn't careful about how I handled it.

Then the thrill would end and I'd have to settle for recreating the sensation through writing.

I loved to write, but this was real. It was different. It drove me to act.

I'd decided to reply after wrestling with myself.

I mused over it for what felt like hours.

Poetry wasn't my wheelhouse and I didn't want to sound dumb.

I must have written dozens of drafts before I finally settled on the one that I clasped tightly in my hand.

I had read it so many times I knew it by heart.

The cupcakes are sweet

Your kindness will get you far

I'd like to repay you

So can you tell me who you are?

I thought about continuing, but nothing sounded good enough, so I wrote the final draft in my best handwriting before I headed to work. If I lingered too long I would be missed or accused of special treatment again, so I exhaled, knew I had no better option, and walked up to Sean.

"Hey," he said with an amused smile. "You've been here earlier than normal lately."

I knew if I didn't say what I needed to I'd falter, so I extended my hand and blurted, "I know you don't want to play matchmaker, but it would mean a lot to me if you gave this to one of your clerks so it got back to whoever is playing this game with me.

" I'd said it all in one breath, so I practically panted as I waited for a reply.

Sean eyed the slip of paper in my hand before he took it from me and tucked it, still folded, into the pocket of his white work coat.

He didn't read it, but would he? I tried not to panic, telling myself that I really hadn't written anything incriminating.

As I freaked out beneath the surface, he studied me with a small smirk before he turned his attention back to his cookie display.

"I'll see what I can do," he finally replied, "I guess."

Face on fire, I nodded, no longer able to make coherent sentences.

As I walked to my department, I wondered if he would just throw it away.

He might have been sarcastic, but he didn't seem the type to be flat out mean like someone else I knew.

I wasn't sure if Evan had made me so wary that I was always playing defense or if this cupcake thing had become so important to me, I didn't want anyone messing it up.

Either way, there was nothing to do now but wait.