Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,12
it!” It’s almost as if she’s more excited for me to try it than I actually am to eat it.
The rich chocolate icing between the thin layers of buttery cake melt against my tongue, and I’m certain that I’ve found an illegal drug in the form of food. “Holy shit, this is a slice of heaven on a plate. Jesus Christ.”
Misha giggles into the phone, and maybe it’s because I’m high as fuck off her cake, but her laugh is now my new favorite sound.
“I’m so glad you like it!”
“No, I don’t like this cake. I fucking love it. This is not a two-person cake. This is a Jake-only cake.”
“You’re really going to eat that entire cake yourself? It’s not even lunchtime!”
The cake is already almost half gone, and there is no way in hell I’m stopping now. “You won’t be able to spoil me with this often. I’ll be eight hundred pounds in no time. I can’t stop eating this. You’ve got serious talent, Misha. I really think you should open your own bakery; it would do so well.”
“Thank you. With every week that business is good at the farmers market, plus the increase of orders that have been rolling in, I’m close to being convinced that it’s the right move. It’s a big step but a scary one at that.”
“It is, but you don’t have anything to worry about.” A crumb falls onto my shirt, and I’m quick to pick it up and shove it in my mouth. “Fuck, this is so good.”
“With these moans, it sounds like you’re nearing orgasm.” She’s teasing, but the tone of her voice is definitely different.
“Well, the cake is orgasmic. Maybe you should put a warning on the cake: will cause arousal.”
“Chocolate is considered an aphrodisiac,” she points out.
“You brought me a chocolate cake in an attempt to turn me on. I see right through you, Misha.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Shit … the thought alone is causing my dick to throb. Thank God I’m alone in my office. “Tell me, how many guys have you made this cake for?”
“If I’m being honest … quite a few.”
Well, fuck. A pang of disappointment forms in my chest—something I shouldn’t be feeling.
“It is my most popular cake, especially among the male population. But if you’re asking how many men I’ve made this cake for personally … then the answer is only for this Hot Coffee Shop Guy who witnessed me getting stood up on Valentine’s Day and ended up asking me out at the end of the night.”
Disappointment instantly turns to excitement. “Oh, yeah? Sounds like he’s pretty awesome.”
“Yeah … it was a good night.”
It really was.
Cordial Companions Inc. has locations all over the United States, most of which are in large cities or metropolitan areas. The Washington, DC/Baltimore location is run by Natasha Bradford, cofounder of the company. She and her college roommates, Genevieve and Evelyn, created CCI after one had an embarrassing experience with a date at an important family function. The idea of hiring a professional companion to accompany a person to an event appealed to many, and the company took off and expanded rapidly.
Natasha’s location is one of the smallest in the country; however, business is still booming. With a roster of nearly sixty escorts, she’s been interviewing applicants like crazy to get more onboard.
Which brings me into the CCI office today. Natasha has asked me to sit in on the interview panel for three men, all of whom have already passed the mandatory background investigation. While waiting for Natasha to finish a conference call, I flip through their résumés and references. They all seem fairly promising. Nothing out of the ordinary really pops out at me.
Natasha bursts through the door with her cell cradled between her shoulder and ear, and her arms are full of binders. She drops the binders onto the table and greets me with a smile, all the while still listening to the person on the other line. “Listen, Gen, I really want to hear more about this, but I’m walking into interviews right now. Let’s video-chat with Evie tonight about it, okay?” She tosses her phone onto the table and collapses into the chair. By the looks of her black hair falling from her once-tight bun, she’s had a rough day.
“Busy?” I chuckle.
“Always, Jake. It never stops.” She inhales deeply and sits up straight in the chair while she exhales. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while since we last caught up.”
Natasha and I