Semi-Sweet On You (Hot Cakes #4) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,60

production line. It could mean decreased production of other cakes, that they needed a plan to transition existing machinery, that it might mean increased shifts for workers and the need to hire additional employees, that they might need new equipment entirely, and even an addition to the factory. No matter what or how they did it, it would mean more man-power and money.

Grant was nodding as she finished, and Aiden sat forward in his chair.

“That all makes sense to me,” Aiden said.

“Do you think we can draw up some projections?” Grant asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Great,” Aiden said. “Just let us know where we should start.”

Whitney lifted her brows. He was just going with it? She felt a moment of panic. They were just going to trust her completely? They didn’t have any questions? No concerns? No alternatives to offer?

“Unless I’m missing something,” she said.

She wasn’t. She’d sat in on meetings about production dozens of times. They’d never launched a new snack cake but they’d upped production on most of the cakes in their product line. They’d expanded to new markets and needed to meet that increased demand.

She’d always found the meetings pretty boring and wouldn’t have believed that she’d absorbed much knowledge from them, but it had all made sense. If you needed more cakes, for whatever reason, you needed to be sure you had the machines for it and the people to run those machines.

“I don’t think you’re missing anything,” Aiden told her. “We need a machine to produce the new cakes and we need more people. Seems easiest to use what we already have until we see what the demand is like.”

She nodded. It did. It was pretty straightforward.

“And I don’t think hiring will be a problem,” she said, not sure why she felt the need to throw that out there. “Everyone here is talking about the great changes you’ve already made to benefits and work shifts and such. We’ve had more applications coming in than usual.”

The men all smiled at that and she realized why she’d said it. It really mattered to these guys that their employees were happy and that they had a reputation as good guys to work for. She liked that about them so much.

Dax looked especially pleased. “Awesome.”

She also liked how much it mattered to him even though he was no longer one of their bosses. He’d been a huge part of the changes they’d made for their employees from benefits to work environment.

“We should offer a couple dollars more an hour for the later shift, of course. We can have a job fair. But—” Then she hesitated.

These were big decisions. She did not want to get too far ahead or in too deep in case things didn’t work.

“But?” Aiden prompted.

Whitney took a breath. She’d known Aiden for a long time. He was Cam’s best friend. He’d been one of the few people who had known about her and Cam in high school. He’d kept their secret for a very long time. He had Cam’s back whether he agreed with every decision or not. He was a great friend.

She wanted him to be her friend.

The thought seemed to come from out of the blue. It seemed misplaced in the midst of a business meeting. But these meetings always showcased how these people fit together. They each had strengths and weaknesses and they balanced each other almost perfectly. They’d found each other and together had created not just a wildly successful business partnership but an enviable friendship.

And she wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to fit somewhere the way they all did.

Aiden had come back to Appleby for Zoe. He’d bought Hot Cakes as part of his new life. And the rest of them had come with him. To help him. To support him. To back him up. But also because they probably couldn’t imagine being in Chicago without him.

She didn’t have anyone following her. She didn’t have anyone staying for her. Hell, her family—the people she’d given her dedication to—had left to go to Dallas, leaving her here.

She supposed she could have gone with them. But they hadn’t asked her to.

“But what, Whit?” Aiden asked.

She did not want to screw this up. They were trusting her to know how they should move forward with this new product. What she knew came from listening in and observing. She’d never actually done it. She’d never really done anything. She’d led a few meetings, met with a few accounts, gone to a few