Page 25 of Cupcake
“I tried that once. It backfired on me, and now Darla knows she’s got the power.”
“I know I’m sober, but that made no sense, so it must be because you’re drunk.”
Her finger waved at me from across the room. “You asked why I named the bakery The Fluffy Cupcake?” I nodded and leaned forward, ready for the story. “Darla has called me a fluffy cupcake since the first day of kindergarten.”
My finger went up in the air, and my mouth opened and closed a couple of times. It took me too long to come to a simple conclusion. “You named your business after the hateful nickname someone has called you your whole life?”
Her palm connected with her forehead, and she shook her head. “Dumb, I know. I thought I was thumbing my nose at Darla. Now she just gloats every time she struts in there like a queen. As if she got me, you know?” she asked, making the digging motion with her hand.
I shrugged and leaned back on the chair. “Only because you continue to let her think that.”
Haylee swirled her finger around my face. “You’ve bought into this whole giving someone else the power thing, haven’t you? Where the hell does that come from?”
“I had to learn early on that if I didn’t have the power, I was the one who got hurt. You’re living proof of that statement. I think you should own those hips and ass, and not just pretend to do it, either. You should own it and mean it every single time.”
“Body positivity ‘n shit?” she asked, a brow in the air.
“More like body acceptance. You need to start accepting yourself for who you are. The next time you date a guy who doesn’t like it, tell him to kiss it and sashay those hips and ass right out of there. Next time Darla walks into the bakery, swing those bad boys out there, and hip-check her into next week.”
“Accept me?” she asked as though she had to make sure she heard me right. “Like, all of me?”
My chuckle should have made her mad, but I think she was too curious to be mad. Apparently, the concept of accepting yourself was hard to grasp for drunk Haylee. “Yes, all of you. It’s like you don’t see that you’re the owner of a wildly successful business that keeps half of this town fed every day, and provides all the memorable food for their special events. You don’t see that you’re the reason over half a dozen people are employed and making a living in a tiny town like this. Instead, you’re always focused on what your hips and ass, your words not mine,” I said, holding up my hands in defense, “look like in your work pants. At the risk of getting slapped or fired, I have zero problems with those hips and ass or the way they look in your work pants. I don’t think being a fluffy cupcake is a bad thing. I’m not buying a bridge here, either. I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
Her eyes widened, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke. “Oh, sure, because you’ve dated so many women like me, I’m sure.”
“I haven’t, but not for lack of trying. You’re beautiful, and you deserve to be happy. Anyone who doesn’t think so can fuck off.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Brady. You’re a tall, strong, muscular guy that every woman wants to date.”
My finger went up in the air again and paused. “Not every woman. There is one particularly stubborn one who won’t date me. That said, the two of us,” I whispered, motioning my finger between us, “we’re not that different. We both came from places where we didn’t get a lot of positive reinforcement about who we are as a person. If you think I don’t know that you hired me because of my past, you don’t give me much credit.”
Her finger wagged back and forth as mine did. “That’s not true. I hired you because you were qualified for the job, and I saw a hunger in you to find a community of people to call family. I once had the same hunger in me that I saw in your eyes that day.”
My head nodded vigorously. “You just made my point. We’re not that different.”
Haylee stood and tipped to the right until I grabbed her shoulder and held her upright. “But we are. You’re the guy every girl wants to land. I’m the girl every guy wants to pretend doesn’t exist. At the very least, all they want to do is change me.” Her hand waved dismissively in the air. “That’s enough talking for one night. I’m tired, and you have to work tomorrow.”
“Are you going to be okay alone up here tonight? Please, don’t go down those stairs until you’re steadier on your feet,” I said, going to the door and grabbing the doorknob.
She crossed her heart and pointed down the hallway. “I’m going to fall into bed and sleep for about five hours. By the time I wake up, I’ll be fine. Thanks for tonight,” she said, waving and walking down the hallway, while I continued to stand by her door.
When she closed the bedroom door, I whispered the words that had been burning in my mouth since she spoke hers. “The very last thing I want to do is pretend you don’t exist or change you, Haylee Davis. I would live the rest of my life happy to be wrapped around those hips and ass.”
