I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

3

Tess

“It’s a bit early for his usual,” Holly called from behind the counter at the Sparrow and Thyme café where she was prepping for the lunch rush. Another of her employees was making a tray of espressos for a waiting Quantum Cyber assistant.

“He’s not getting shit today,” I said, slumping with my empty lunch box and my oversized bag at a table. I dropped the cardboard box holding my meager collection of office desk accessories, including a small magnetic note board, a coffee cup warmer, and my pink-and-gold desk organizer.

“Oh no!” Holly said, noticing my box. “Are they laying people off? I just saw another girl run out crying.”

“It’s just Beck being a jerkface.”

Holly gave me a sympathetic look.

“I thought you all had a big presentation today,” she said. She was CEO Owen Frost’s fiancée. He must have told her.

“I guess it wasn’t as important as we all thought, considering the presentation isn’t done,” I said.

Holly came from around the counter with a sausage roll and a cup of tea for me.

“I really can’t,” I said. “I am now jobless and will probably be homeless soon.”

“Then you not only need these but a slice of opera cake too,” she said. “And a lemon tart. On the house.”

I cut off a piece of the sausage roll. The spicy filling and the flaky, buttery pastry melted on my tongue.

“So good.” I sighed and scarfed down the rest. Thunder clapped outside, and rain started coming down in sheets.

“I should probably go out and search for another job,” I said, staring out the window.

“Temp agencies want you there early,” Holly informed me. “Trust me, the day is a wash.”

“At the very least, I should go home and put some pots out to collect the water that’s going to be leaking from the ceiling,” I said, pulling the cake toward me.

“I thought you put all your stuff in plastic bins after the last rain,” Holly said, sitting next to me with her own slice of cake.

“Yes, that was a lesson learned.” I grimaced.

“I’m surprised Beck fired you,” she said. “Owen said he thought Beck really liked you.”

I burst out laughing, sucking up tea in my nose.

“Hot, hot!” I fanned my mouth. “No, he doesn’t like me! He barely tolerated me. But whatever. That HR skank can have him.”

“Is Cressida still sniffing around him? She’s so thirsty.”

“Probably wants her very own billionaire husband,” I said dryly, cutting off a piece of the multilayered confection of sponge cake, mousse, and ganache. “She’s tired of harassing people for her money and wants a good-looking husband to harass instead.”

“Beck is good-looking!” Holly said with a snicker. “Maybe now that you don’t work for him, you could date him.”

“No way,” I said flatly. “You know I hate dating.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “You hate everything.”

“Not cake!” I said defensively.

“You hate the city, you hate the country, you hate working—”

“Everyone hates working.”

“You hate men.”

“I don’t hate men. I love all the men in my books,” I said primly.

“Romance novel men don’t count,” Holly retorted.

“Fine. If Chris Evans in his Captain America costume just appeared right in front of me, I’d totally do him.”

Holly raised an eyebrow. “He’s an inaccessible man. That doesn’t count.”

“You can’t blame me,” I argued, waving my fork around. “All the men in my life are backstabbing, entitled circus monkeys. My stepfather betrayed me. Beck fired me just because he could, and because he would rather protect his precious disgusting pig of a client than his employee. And don’t get me started on Kaden.”

Holly looked concerned. “He hasn’t contacted you, has he? You should file a restraining order.”

I shook my head. “Hopefully he’s lost interest. Of course, now that I am unemployed, I should probably cut my losses and move to Michigan. At least then Kaden really couldn’t find me.”

Holly patted my arm and went to grab me another cup of tea. She placed it and a pretzel stuffed with cream cheese and chives in front of me.

“You’re going to find a new job, a better job,” she assured me. “A lot of temp positions in the city are trial runs for full-time employment.”

The lobby door opened, and a willowy young woman with bottle red hair practically danced in.

Glad someone’s happy to be here.

I angrily ate the rest of my opera cake and moved on to my pretzel.

“Hiii!” the redhead drawled to Holly. “I’d like a double-shot caramel macchiato. Starting a new job—just got the call from the temp agency. I’m going to be a billionaire’s assistant!” She squealed. “His name is Beck Svensson!”

I hunkered down with my pretzel. Sucks to be you, sister.

“I hope it all works out for you,” Holly chirped as she ran the young woman’s card.

“Oh, I fully intend to have a ring on this finger in six months.” She held up her hand.

I couldn’t help myself and barked out a laugh.

She turned to glare at me. “You don’t know me!” my replacement screeched. “I’ve been working up to this moment ever since I moved to New York. God, get a life.” She grabbed her coffee and walked to the elevator, heels clacking.

Holly came over with more cake. “Want to take bets on how long she lasts?”

“I won’t be here,” I said dejectedly, “so you could just lie.”

Holly hugged me and kept me supplied with cake during the rest of the afternoon. While I ate my weight in delicious cake, I watched well-dressed people come through the lobby, either to head up to the hotel, the condos in the building, or to the Quantum Cyber offices.

“You could go after one of the Richmond brothers,” Holly said, jerking her head to the tall man chatting with Mark Holbrook while they waited for the elevator.

“I bake. I don’t date,” I reminded her.

I was eating my bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich on thick, homemade, toasted bread when Maeve sat next to me.

“God, Cressida is so awful,” she complained, grabbing the other half of the sandwich.

“Hey!”

“Girl, I know Holly has been giving you all the pity snacks. I had to listen to Cressida parading around the office, talking about how if the new temp doesn’t work out, she’s going to have to be Beck’s new assistant since it was such a hard job and how she felt so sorry for him that he didn’t have anyone competent to support him.”

“How long do you think the new assistant is going to last?” Holly asked Maeve. “We’re taking bets.”

“I bet he fires her in a week,” I said. All the food had made me feel better. I was going to find an awesome job. Maybe it would pay better, and I could move out of my crappy apartment. Maybe this was the change I needed! You just had to look on the bright side. And of course, eat more cake.

“I bet she lasts a month,” Holly said. “She was telling us all about how she was going to marry Beck.”

Maeve shook her head. “I bet that’s why Cressida was being extra bitchy. She knows she’s got competition in the office. She’s going to do everything she can to push knockoff Emma Stone out ASAP. I bet she doesn’t even last the day.”

I took another crunchy bite of my sandwich. “I just hope Beck fires Cressida along with her.”

“We can dream!” Maeve said, toasting me with her sandwich half.

When we had moved on to Maeve’s first round of dessert and my fourth or fifth—I had been fired today, and dammit, fired calories don’t count!—the elevator dinged, and the redhead stumbled out, crying, wailing, and clutching her bag.

“I win!” Maeve said happily.

Even though the girl hadn’t been the nicest, I still felt sorry for her.

“Hey,” I called. “We have cake if you want to join us in our misery.”

The girl wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara, then scowled at me.

“I have a date tonight with a finance guy. I’m not going to eat cake,” she said, turning up her nose. “Some of us have standards.”

“Well then,” I said to the redhead’s retreating back, “have a nice life.”

“She could use some cake,” Maeve remarked. “It would make her a more pleasant person.”

When her lunch break was over, Maeve left, and Holly had to go actually work at her café. Quantum Cyber employees usually came down for coffee and snacks around four in the afternoon, and Holly’s famous cheese straws were in high demand.

While she worked, I slumped at the table, head resting on my hand, looking through job listings on my phone, wishing the rain would end so I could go home and bake a cake.

“I’d like my usual.”

A deep voice rocked me out of my joblessness and excessive cake-eating stupor.

Beck.

He was standing at the counter, demanding his usual hot-tea drink. Then he turned around to glare at me when I helpfully recited his order.

Defiant, I stared into his gray eyes and blew him a kiss. That really set him off.

“Why are you still here?” he demanded. “You were supposed to be escorted off the premises.”

“I’m a customer at the Sparrow and Thyme cafe,” I replied. “I’m allowed to be here.”

He frowned, then said, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

I raised an eyebrow.

Beck blew out an annoyed breath.

“I need an assistant; you’re rehired. Get my tea and bring it up. I don’t have all day.” He abruptly turned on his heel and headed back to the elevator.

Da fuck?

I waited for the girl to make the tea then corrected her when she messed up the overly complicated process and begged her to redo it. As I stood there, I seethed, growing angrier and angrier.

How dare he? How dare Beck be arrogant and entitled and yank my chain!

He thinks I’m just going to come crawling back to him, grateful for whatever crumbs he tosses me.

Well, he had another thing coming.