Page 4 of Sugarlips
Holy shit. Note to self: Never piss off Chloe Dyker.
10:34 p.m.
“Seriously?” Chloe was on her feet once more, pacing the living room, throwing her arms wildly in the air. In one hand, she gripped the bottle of tequila. Things had escalated anew and she was now drinking straight from the bottle. “How can you hate that movie? It’s classic.”
I shrugged but laughed. How could one person be so passionate about a stupid movie? “You thinkthat’sa classic? Sit back down. I’m going to show you a real classic.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t go all macho on me and make me watch Star Wars or Indiana Jones… I’ve seen them. Yes, they’re great movies, butthisis a great movie, too.”
I shook my head, grinning. “Trust me… you’re going to like my choice.” I already had the remote in hand, searching Netflix for what I considered to be rom-com royalty.”
“Chasing Amy,” she read the screen as she sat down next to me. Somehow, even closer than before and handed me the bottle. I grabbed it, took a small sip, then placed on the table beside me, hopefully out of reach for her.
“Ever seen it?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I think this is a more realistic look at what can happen if you blur the lines of friendship with sex.”
“Okay, Evans. Let’s do this.”
I hit play as she ate another cupcake and moaned, her head lolling back against the couch in pleasure. I couldn’t help but wonder… was that what she looked like in more private moments of pleasure?
I immediately berated myself for the thought.
“You are so good at this,” she said, holding up the cupcake.
I shrugged. “I should be. Neil and I have been baking with my mom since we were old enough to hold a spatula.”
She paused, and a bit of mint green frosting clung to the edges of her lips. “You don’t love baking? But… you went to culinary school.”
I shrugged. “I do love baking… I just had other plans for my life.” Those plans did not involve working at my mom’s bakery to keep it afloat after she was diagnosed with cancer, where Neil was the face and brand, and I was the one doing most of the other grunt work.
“Like what?”
I arched a brow and jutted my chin toward the TV. “You’re going to miss the movie.”
She shrugged. “You’re more interesting than that.”
I glanced at my phone. Crap. I had to be awake to open the bakery in a few hours. Swiping a hand down my weary face, I sighed. “You’re going to think it’s stupid. Everyone does.”
“Try me,” she said.
“I’ve always wanted to run my own food truck.”
Her eyes went wide. “Like John Favreau in Chef!”
“Yes,” I answered. “Well, no. But kind of.”
“That’s very trendy right now. What kind of food would you want to sell?”
I shrugged. “That’s the problem.” Or rather, one of the many problems with my half-baked plan… no pun intended. “I don’t really have enough of a hook. I change my mind constantly about what the food truck should serve. At first, I wanted it to be crepes. Then I thought maybe donuts. It can’t be cupcakes because I’ll be competing with Beefcakes and that would be stupid. Not to mention, the cost of a food truck is high and then the permits can be tricky.”
“Well, lucky for you, I have a sister who can help with the permitting.”
“Yeah.” My voice sounded dull. I didn’t even know what kind of food I wanted to cook… this plan was so far off from being anything tangible that most days, I just gave up on it.
“You should do it,” Chloe said. “Bringing a food truck to Maple Grove would be really smart. Especially parking around the public lakes and parks… there’s no easily walkable food in that area. You’d probably make a killing serving lunch there.”
