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Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

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BOOK: #5 Icing on the Cake
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I got out of the car, and the blonde-headed guy came right over. “Hey, I'm Paris. Can I help you bring something in?”

“No!” Sloan coldly said to him. “We have arms. Come on, sis.”

We grabbed some stuff and went inside. My space had nothing on it but two little stands. A sign to go in front of the table wasn't going to make it an inviting space. This Ms. Pinky lady had a true booth. It looked like a store on wheels. Even though people weren't going to have to pay for my stuff, I wouldn't want it compared to hers. I knew Sloan couldn't babysit me forever. Once we got all my stuff inside, it looked as cute as it possibly could, but it was still less in comparison to Ms. Pinky. Sloan was supposed to be doing a write up of the event so it could be one of the first articles in her magazine.

“Go, I'll be fine.”

“You're okay,” she said, completely feeling pitiful for me as she looked over at the magnificent booth. Mine looked like a kid's lemonade stand.

“Can I try one of your cupcakes?” Paris said.

I felt so out of place. Many were at Ms. Pinky's sweet set up. He probably would be the only one who would come over the whole evening, so who was I to tell him no.

“These are yummy,” he said, after gobbling down a vanilla cupcake and a red velvet one.

“Thanks.”

Then I heard a whole bunch of laughter. My dad was visiting Ms. Pinky's booth. He walked her over to where I was.

“This is my daughter. One day she wants to have an operation like yours. She's so talented,” he bragged to Ms. Pinky.

“Oh, isn't this booth precious. Paris, I see you over here tasting. Is it yum yum like her lil' logo? Of course you've got to say so. You don't want to hurt her feelings,” Ms. Pinky gloated.

That was such a rude comment, I thought. I wanted to snatch my cupcake from Paris's mouth. I didn't need him to lie. My food was good, and I knew it.

Paris walked into her trap. “It is yummy.”

If he expected me to thank him again, that was over. I wanted him and this rude lady to leave me be. Paris saw I was anything but happy.

“I hope your sister and mine won't be too nervous up there,” Paris said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, so you're Charlotte's brother?” my dad asked.

“And I'm her auntie. Sometimes I claim her,” Ms. Pinky joked.

My dad suggested, “Cool. Well, it'd be great if my daughter could come work with you. You can help her learn the ropes.”

“I'd love that,” Ms. Pinky said as she and my dad walked back over to her station.

I did not ask my dad to plead my case with Ms. Pinky. She had looked at me so condescendingly. The last person I wanted to help me was her high-tooting behind. But they
made a deal right in front of me. Who was going to say no to helping the mayor-elect's daughter? Ms. Pinky wasn't. She saw an opportunity, and she was all over it. I wasn't happy with it at all, and Paris could tell.

“My aunt can be a little brash,” Paris said.

“You think?” I said to him.

“But she means well.”

“I'm sad I'm even here,” I uttered to the stranger.

He put his hand on my hand and said, “But you look cute in your apron, your food tastes good, and you're here. How many people can say they've got a business at your age? You're what? Sixteen?”

“I'm not sixteen yet.”

“Well, don't be so hard on yourself. My aunt is old. You're just getting started. You'll surpass what she's doing in your lifetime. Learn from her. Learn the stuff she's doing right and things she's doing wrong. Be better than she is. But don't beat yourself up about it. You're young.”

CHAPTER TWO
YOKED

“Wasn't the show great? Aren't you so proud of Slade?” Sloan came over, shook me and said.

My sister's performance was amazing. The song “Be My Friend” was hot, and her singing partner, Charlotte, a cute blonde, could hold her own too. The rhythm and blues mixed with pop rock sound that the two of them had was electrifying.

They looked cute, and I knew that's because Shelby had hooked them up. Sloan was bragging that her magazine issue was going to be dope because of all the great pictures Ansli had
captured. Everybody was contributing, but me. Sloan was bummed with Slade for not making me the sole dessert person, but she quickly left me to be bummed out alone.

Every time someone came from the crowded room to the back to get some refreshments, they didn't come to my little area. I went over to Ms. Pinky, and I looked like a fool feeling sorry for myself. I guess my face showed my disappointment.

Sloan put her arms around me and said, “After everything I just went through, this might not be an ideal situation for your cupcake business, going up against a guru in the dessert field. But nobody's laughing at your effort like they laughed me out of school.”

I shook my head. I knew my sister meant last month when she went through a terrible ordeal with a girl who was jealous because a boy she liked, liked my sister instead. But this wasn't the same.

“But at least you were vindicated when it all came out. Nobody's eating my cupcakes! I shouldn't have even been here.”

“Yeah, but a naked picture of me is still floating around on somebody's phone. I promise you. Since we put that heifer in jail, I doubt people will go around showing it, but they're probably getting their little peeks on, and I'll never be able to live that down. But you don't see me wallowing in what I can't change.”

“Dad wants me to work with the lady.”

“Well great! If she's on a level that you're trying to get to, what's so wrong with that?”

“Yeah, what's wrong with that?” a male voice came from out of nowhere and said. Sloan looked at me and gave me a smirk.

I turned around and said, “Okay, don't get no ideas.”

“Look at the way he's devouring you with his eyes. Don't dismiss the interest.”

She was such a writer. There was no happy ending happening. I had no interest in the guy.

“It's rude to eavesdrop,” I said to him.

“I just came to get another cupcake, and I overheard the two of you guys.” Paris winked.

“Oh, Yolanda dear, come here,” Ms. Pinky said in an uppity tone.

“It's Yuri!” I yelled out.

“Okay,” she said in an uncaring voice. “Come here, dear.”

Sloan and Paris stayed at my booth, not that I needed someone to manage it when no one else was coming by, but they guarded it as I stepped over to Ms. Pinky's world of delightful treats. Seeing her setup up close and personal, I really was in awe. Not only did she have an array of items, but the presentation was spectacular. Tiers of desserts just calling your name.

“So your dad wants us to work together. He thinks I can help you,” she said. “I'm not really for charity.”

“Charity?” I said, truly offended.

“You know, helping those whose skills are way beneath mine. But in this case, of course, I'll make an exception with your dad about to be the mayor and all. I just wanted to let you know I do have expectations. You got all your cupcakes mixed all in together, and because of that, some of the frosting from one flavor is on another. An absolute no-no. You must keep all of the same cupcakes together.”

“But that's your opinion,” I said in a humble tone.

“No, if you're going to be working with me, that becomes your fact. I think the whole point of you shadowing me is to learn how to do things the right way. If your father thought it was wise for you to continue with presentations that look a mess, then he wouldn't have asked for my assistance. I can sense a little resistance and jealousy, actually, on your part. Sweetie, it'd be foolish of you to think that you can walk in my shoes when you just started out in this business. Now granted, I was never as bad as you are when I first started baking, but I wasn't grand either. So, there's hope,” she said as she reached over and patted me on my head. “Here's my card. On there is my email and my cell number. Please text and email me your schedule so that I'll know when you're coming. I don't like surprises, and I can't have too many workers in the shop at one time.”

I started to say “Anything else, your highness?” Instead, I just looked at her like she was a witch. While I didn't really know
her, all indications so far proved my theory was true.

“Toodaloo, that'll be all,” she said, as if I was invading her space.

Slade was coming back out on stage to give special thanks. I walked back over to my booth and listened as she said, “Just want to thank you all for coming tonight. It's hard to start a dream, but your support has made it so much easier. Charlotte and I are truly grateful. While we're still trying to come up with the name of our group, the single is going to be a hit because you're going to tweet about it, tell the world about it, and buy it when it hits the shelves. I'd also like to thank my parents for helping me create a record label. Also, I thank Mundy Records for granting me a distribution deal. We're going to make you proud, sir! I'd like to thank my sisters, especially Shelby for helping us look fabulous, Ansli for capturing the moment, and Sloan … you better write a good article about tonight, sis.”

“I will!” Sloan yelled out.

Slade continued, “Oh, and I gotta thank
Ms. Pinky. The desserts are fabulous. Thanks for everyone coming. One thing I've learned is that when you're supposed to be at a place for a certain number of hours, you can't go over or it'll cost you. So I don't care where you go, but you gotta get out of here. Bye! Goodnight everybody!”

I couldn't hold back the tears at that moment. My sister didn't even thank me, and Sloan didn't even realize that I'd been left out the acknowledgments. She rushed out to Slade to hug her. There I stood alone. Well I guess I wasn't alone when someone put his firm hand in mine and squeezed it tight. I wanted to jerk away, but I couldn't. He knew what my family didn't. I felt worthless.

My sisters and my mom were all by the stage cooing over Slade's excellent performance. Having a pity party had never been in my nature, but that was because before I'd never wanted to do something great myself. My first attempt at it, I'd failed miserably. I was in the back, pitifully looking on.

“So can I have your number or what?” Paris asked.

“Don't you need to go congratulate your sister or something?” I said, not wanting to be rude to the white boy.

He wasn't my type, not that I even had a type. I never had a boyfriend, but when I had fantasied about who I'd be with, a blonde-headed, blue-eyed, preppy boy wasn't what came to mind.

“I saw you earlier. Who do we have here?” my dad said as he came back over by my stand.

I looked at Paris like, “Uh-huh, just like you walked away when he came over the first time with your aunt, you might wanna walk away now because he is not going to go for me talking to you.” It wasn't at all about a color thing. It was about the fact that I was the last Sharp sister without a guy, and if my parents were going to stay sane, they'd want to keep me their baby. Staying their baby meant I was to have no boyfriend for a long time, and that was just fine with me. Clearly, I had other things to focus on. If I wanted a future and if I wanted to be dynamic
like my sisters, I needed to get my act together. “I'm Paris, Charlotte's brother. I just was telling your daughter here how delicious her cupcakes were.”

I started coughing. That was such a pitiful line. Clearly, I had almost as many as when I came in, so obviously my stuff wasn't that good.

Looking Paris up and down my dad voiced, “Okay, well thanks for introducing yourself. I'm sure Yuri appreciates the compliment, but your aunt probably needs help cleaning up. I'll help my daughter.”

“Dad, you don't have to do that,” I said.

“No, I want to help you,” he insisted while starting to gather my containers.

“But you don't have to.”

BOOK: #5 Icing on the Cake
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