day.”
He gives my hip a squeeze and releases me. I stand outside in the cold January morning for a couple of minutes to allow the sweat to dry and the heat in my face to calm before I go back in and apologize for taking as long as I did. Not that I regret it all that much.
As January rolls through, I do everything I can to pull in more customers—fun new cupcakes, bachelorette parties, cupcake-decorating classes in the evenings—but I’m still struggling to compete against D&B’s super cheap prices and their endless marketing money. I manage to find a great part-time baker to help alleviate some of the strain on my time and demands. Financially it’s going to be a bit of a struggle for a while, but I can’t reasonably run a business on no sleep.
On the downside, hiring a new baker means I have to find a way to reduce other costs. I end up cutting back on Callie’s hours. It’s the beginning of a new semester and the workload is heavy so she’s not heartbroken over it, but it still doesn’t feel good.
The new part-time baker is great about helping to get the shop open, but cutting back on Callie’s hours means I’m working just as many as I was before. There have been a few occasions when I’ve been able to enjoy sleeping past five in the morning, usually with Ronan, but if business doesn’t pick up soon I’m going to have to put an end to those altogether.
The only saving grace seems to be our cohosted events. I’m grateful that Tori is planning her stop around one of those events, because those tend to be the busiest nights. She always makes her appearance a surprise, but based on her previous stops over the past week, Ronan and I predicted she’d be coming our way this week, and we were right.
She stops by during one of my comedy nights and Ronan’s live bands. Of course, that morning I got a call from the best of the three comedians saying she had the flu and there was no way she could get up onstage without a bucket and a toilet. I was prepared to host it with just the two comedians, but Lars said he had a friend who was hilarious and would love the opportunity.
His friend was hot, which was a bonus, and had a pretty big following on social media so I took a chance, shuffling the acts around so he could go last. As it turned out, his pretty face was the only palatable thing about his act. It was more frat boy humor than anything my clientele would find funny, so he was met with some embarrassingly pathetic chuckles and not much else.
To make matters worse, Tori has the pleasure of witnessing it firsthand. If she’d shown up at the beginning, when everyone was crying with laughter, it would’ve made the final act seem a little less awful, but since she’s missed the best part, it’s taken the shine out of the evening. She stays for a drink and samples the cupcakes, expressing how much she loves the décor and the concept.
She’s certainly done her homework, asking about my family and why I chose to go out on my own with a low-key local vibe instead of catering to celebrities. I explain that my heart is in baking and that I wanted the opportunity to prove myself, which she seems to appreciate.
She heads over to The Knight Cap while I close up. I’m feeling disheartened. I know B&B is a great place with an awesome atmosphere, and usually my entertainment is top notch. Tonight we were packed, not an empty seat in the house, but if I’m honest with myself, The Knight Cap has something special—beyond the axe throwing, which I hate to admit is really fun.
One night when I stayed to help him behind the bar during a cohosted event, Ronan convinced me to leave on the steel-toed boots and give it a shot.
Watching Ronan demonstrate how to throw and then getting all up in my personal space so he could correct my form became its own brand of foreplay. Every time I hit the target, he’d praise me, and if I missed he’d step in and give me pointers that consisted mostly of him adjusting my stance. After a while I started missing on purpose, and eventually he caught on. That night ended with me pressed up against the wall,