The Ingredients of You and Me (Hopeless Romantics #3) - Nina Bocci Page 0,2
moment in the spotlight.”
“That’s awfully magnanimous of you.”
“Don’t get the martyrdom certificate out yet. I tried to finagle something different out of them, but they didn’t go for it.”
“What?”
I smiled ruefully. “I was looking to start a new online series to piggyback off of what I already did with the videos we made and posted to YouTube from here. Streaming content on their website and social.” The excitement I felt about the prospect was only heightened when I did an informal poll on my own accounts to see what people wanted. Just hearing more videos was an ego boost enough, but to have folks requesting specifics from me? Well, that solidified that it was a smart move on my part. People wanted back-to-basics, and I would be scratching the teaching itch I had been actively ignoring for ages. Except…
“My hope was that the Food Network would be interested, and they were, but their terms were outrageous. I’d be doing all the work, and they’d be reaping all the benefits from sponsored posts and partnerships, with me only getting a slim percentage.”
“Yes, but we would have had a windfall here anyway, right? You would have gone on one of the shows again just to parlay it into more D and V business. Not that we need it,” one of my newer bakers said, waving his hand toward the towering stack of order slips on my desk.
My recently devoid-of-all-personal-items desk. If they noticed, they didn’t comment.
“So, if you’re not going back onto the Food Network, what’s the announcement?”
This was it. I took a deep breath and made a mental note to savor the signature D&V scent that I would forever associate with this place: vanilla sweetness with the spice of cinnamon.
“I sold D and V,” I blurted awkwardly. Maybe I was vanilla drunk from the heady fragrance, or I was sleep deprived, but I had a plan—and notes—and I just hit a foul ball.
“You what!” the group called in unison.
I sighed and pulled out the last stool at the makeshift conference table.
“Parker? What do you mean you sold D and V?”
“Was business bad? Is that why?”
“What about us? Are we out?”
Folding my hands, I kept them locked together on the cool table, and I stared at my friends’ shocked and worried expressions. I had every reason to be proud of this moment, but I couldn’t ignore the nervousness.
“No, business wasn’t bad. The opposite, in fact. And I’ll answer every question you have, but don’t be nervous. You’re all fine.”
“Then, Parker, why?”
I took another deep breath. I owed them an explanation and I was going to be as honest as I could be. “Some of you remember the early days when I started D and V out of my apartment kitchen. Borrowing neighbors’ ovens, making homemade double boilers because I couldn’t afford the real thing, begging people to let me use their KitchenAid mixers and watch my oven while I ran a delivery to Queens? No one was more nervous than I was that my idea was going to flop. That the format of D and V was nothing more than a gimmick, even though I was still willing to sink everything into it.” I saw heads nod.
“My willingness to devote everything to it never wavered, but lately my willingness to put myself first is winning out. Months ago, I got an offer. Not to get all Godfather-y on you, but it really was one that I couldn’t refuse. I went back and forth over whether or not to take it. And after a lot of thought, and a lot of wine, I decided to sell,” I explained.
I hated the look of confusion and sadness on their faces as they grasped the hand of the coworker, the friend, beside them.
“I just don’t know what to think,” said one of my bakers. “Why didn’t you tell us? Confide in us—”
I held up my hand. “Before we go any further, I need you to know something truly important first. While it’s great, this isn’t about the money.”
“What is it about, then?” my decorator asked.
“Time,” I said honestly. “For the past six years, I’ve spent twelve hours a day here. Taking orders, baking orders, placing orders, delivering orders. I’m thirty-one and my body feels like it’s seventy-one. And that’s just what I do in the bakery itself. At home I spend a few hours working on recipes every day, plus uploading videos and interacting on social media. It’s been a hamster wheel for me.”