Page 7 of The Sweetest Ingredient

While our budget allowed for just a single streaming service, it was a necessary splurge for sanity’s sake, so onto my credit card it went.

“Meeting Bishop was serendipity. I’m convinced you weren’t meant to meet Walter,” Chantel said.

“You set me up with a man named Walter? How old is he—eighty?” I grabbed a throw pillow and lightly smacked her with it.

“Um, he’s fifty-ish, I think.” She smirked. “What’s age have to do with true love? More to the point, he’s sweet, and he has a hefty retirement fund and savings.”

“How do you know all this?”

She fiddled with her long braid. “Walter takes my salsa dancing class every Thursday night.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m only twenty-six years old, Chantel. I don’t need a sugar daddy.”

Chantel shrugged. “Well…he does have a fabulous wine collection from before you were even born. But fine, no more setting you up with vintage models.”

We were quiet a moment while Bree texted a friend. Mochi pranced around the room with Bree’s sock in her mouth, her clothing thievery making me smile.

The sunlight filtering through the curtains cast a golden hue over my work desk. My laptop, design drafts, and colored pencils were strewn about haphazardly. From the kitchen, the aroma of the peanut butter dog treats I’d baked for Mochi last night wafted throughout the apartment.

I’d always had this insatiable urge to create. Whether it was baking for fun or designing. I mean, from the splashy mood boards I’d doodle during midnight inspiration strikes to the oh-so-extra designs I dreamed up for company logos, graphic design was my creative outlet.

But then, there was the tactile enjoyment of baking— relaxing and grounding. Where design was all about symmetry and aesthetics, baking was about warmth and love.

Chantel picked up a treat from the coffee table, waving it in front of Mochi, who wagged her tail. “Kenzi, you should sell these if you need money.”

“It’s only a hobby.”

Bree, her face illuminated by the light of her phone, glanced up. “Why not? Your design skills are awesome—and these treats? Mochi loves ’em.” She leaned back. “Sis, you could totally redefine animal treats.”

Could I really combine my two passions? I could almost see it—the blend of baked goods and digital art. The idea seemed random at first, but the more I mulled it over, the clearer the vision became. Creating gourmet pet treats with my own brand of trendy packaging lit a creative fire within me.

“It’s not a bad idea. This might just be the recipe for success I’ve been looking for.”

Chantel smiled, tossing Mochi another treat. “Only you could concoct a plan to mix pet treats with pixel art. You should go for it.”

Bree gave a supportive thumbs-up. “Absolutely! Plus, Mochi is all the endorsement you need.”

With their encouragement, perhaps I could be both a graphic designer and a baker. Who would’ve thunk it?

Mochi barked and friskily tugged at the hem of my dress.

“Stop it, silly dog. No more treats for you until after dinner.” I gently swatted her away.

“Was your new boss nice?” Bree asked.

Chantel wiggled her eyebrows. “And was he cute?”

I blew out a breath. “What he looks like hardly matters.”

“He must’ve been good-looking if you mistook him for your date.” Chantel squeezed my hand. “So?”

“He was sort of nice…” My body temperature rose every time I thought about Bishop. “He’s tall, muscular, and drop-dead gorgeous.”

I wondered what Bishop’s views on dating employees was—a firm no or a hopeful possibility? Oh, no. What was I doing? I needed to focus on learning how to bake, not swooning over a modern-day Mr. Darcy.

“I’m not even sure if Bishop’s single. Besides, he’s my boss.”

“Oh, come on, Kenzi,” Chantel teased. “Who says you can’t knead the dough and enjoy the eye candy at the same time?”

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