Page 8 of Love your Billionaire Boss

“You know…there’s a new guy at my—” Elle started.

Cleo held up her hand. “Nope. No way. What did I tell you after the last time?”

“Oh, come on! I didn’t know it was going to be the date from hell.”

“Never again.” Cleo shook her head.

“Fiiiiine.” Elle threw her head back dramatically.

“Why don’t you just focus on your relationship?”

“Booooring,” groaned Elle.

“Oh, come on. You love Brad.”

“I do, I do. We’re just like an old married couple. I need some spice, so I’m trying to live through you.”

“Well, there’s some cinnamon in the cabinet.” Cleo nodded toward the kitchen.

“Oh, shut up.” Elle laughed. “I mean it, Cleo. You’ve got to get out there.”

Cleo shrugged.

“You work in one of the most popular bars in the city. You’re surrounded by men four nights a week. You could easily have your pick.”

“Yeah, right. Plus, they’re too busy shouting out drink orders or watching the game to actually talk to me.”

“Well, what about the players? I know they go in there almost every home game night.”

“What about them?”

Elle sat back in her chair, exasperated. “Oh, I don’t know. Tight pants. Nice butts. Even nicer paychecks.”

Cleo laughed out loud. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious. Why don’t you talk to them?”

Cleo thought about telling her about Kenny from the other night, but she knew better. Elle would never leave her alone about it. She’d probably show up at the bar next home game and embarrass Cleo. She had good intentions, but she could be a little much sometimes.

“Guys like that don’t like girls like me,” said Cleo softly.

“Girl, have you seen yourself? You’re beautiful. You bake. You know how to make a mean drink. Any guy would be lucky to be with a girl like you.”

Cleo shrugged. “Either way. I just want to focus on my baking.”

“You’re an old lady.”

The oven timer went off. Cleo internally sighed with relief. Perfect timing. She wasn’t sure how much more she could fend off Elle. Cleo stood from her chair and put on her oven mitts. She pulled the muffins out and placed them on a cooling rack, as the kitchen filled with a warm, spicy, and sweet aroma. This was her happy place.

After a successful Sunday of baking, Cleo spent most of the day in bed catching up on sleeping and then mapping out the different cafés she was going to visit in the coming days. Her plan was to take each one a basket of assorted goods for them to sample, and hopefully that would act as her résumé. The plan was to grow by word of mouth and eventually open her own bakery. It was going to take time, which was why she had better start now.

On Monday in the late afternoon, she packed up a small container of cinnamon rolls and headed to Murphy’s. It was her night off, but she wanted to bring Bridget a treat since she had been sick.

When she opened the door, she saw maybe five people sitting around the bar.

Bridget saw her and momentarily looked confused. “It’s your night off!” she called out.

“I know, I know. I thought I’d bring you a treat since you’ve been feeling crummy.”

---