Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
I tipped my head against the sofa and pulled him close.
Theo gave a contented sigh. “I suppose there’s no point in denying we’re going to do this again.”
“Yes. Often.”
“Good,” he murmured.
I didn’t have the strength to laugh aloud, but I smiled and kissed his temple affectionately. I didn’t know what it was about Theo. Something sweet and real in him drew me in and made it fucking impossible to let go.
And for the record, I now officially loved fairy fucking cakes.
8
Scott
Usually, January was a blah month for me. After the excitement of the holidays was over, it was harder to ignore the harsher aspects of winter. Dealing with the short days, crappy weather, and depleted bank accounts were the new reality. In the baking world, business was quiet but still steady.
But January didn’t seem so bad with Theo around. In fact, it was my new favorite month of the year. Not only was he a great guy and a passionate lover, but in a twist, he was a fucking marketing mastermind too.
Don’t get excited. Scott’s Bakery didn’t become an overnight sensation by any means, but there was a new buzz in the air and a steady influx of customers. And they were all interested in—wait for it…fairy cakes.
Check this out. While I baked trays of fairy cakes I was sure I’d end up tossing at the end of the day, Theo was busy drumming up business behind the scenes. He was a whirling dervish of ideas. He revamped my newsletter and sent our first post announcing fairy cake mania.
Yeah, I rolled my eyes, but I had to admit, he was good at making mini cupcakes with a shocking lack of frosting sound amazing. His verbiage was clever and fun. He promoted DIY boxes—consisting of a dozen baked treats in a variety of flavors with glaze and toppings—as perfect for a gift or party idea that would pair well with XYZ from whatever local businesses were interested in an info exchange. Wine, food, art, coffee and tea shops, bookstores…
According to Theo’s research, leaving flyers and business cards to advertise a new venture was a lame idea in a modern age, but studies showed that cross-promotion worked in small towns, so he’d reached out to local shops and restaurants, targeting those with similar aesthetics. Within a few days, we’d agreed to partner with a few businesses on Milsom Street. Kind of cool.
And Theo had other ideas too.
Would you be open to hanging cupids, cut-out hearts, and fairies from the ceiling?
Absolutely not, I replied, smiling at my cell.
What if we highlighted classic literature featuring famous sprites. For example, we could pull a quote from A Midsummer Night’s Dream and attach it to the wrapper or the pastry box, Theo suggested.
People love bookstores around here, so…maybe. Be careful to stick to public domain.
Of course. We can use different books for different flavors. And change the focus from fairies to mythical creatures and then something that ties in with St. Valentine. Heart emoji.
Eye-roll emoji. Ugh.
If the response is good, and it will be, this can be a seasonal thing. We’ll start with fairy cakes in winter.
No one likes fairy cakes in winter.
Theo’s response…twenty gazillion snowflake emojis.
I sent the equivalent in eye-roll emojis, though I’d bet the dumbass smile that had been fixed on my face for the past two weeks gave me away.
Fairy cakes…shoot me now.
But you know what?
Theo was right. People loved this shit.
Fairy cakes flew off the shelves and for the first time ever, we had preorders to fill by the dozens. I didn’t have the time or kitchen space to do it all in Bath, so I had my London kitchen pick up the slack. Much to Becca’s dismay.
“Did you truly need forty dozen fairy cakes? Or did you accidentally add a zero?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she tilted her chin toward the pastry boxes stacked on the table.
“No accident. I had fifty-two dozen preorders over the weekend.”
Becca’s mouth fell open. “Shuh-up! That’s bananas!”
“I know.” I gestured to the boxes and shrugged. “They’re a hit. Theo did an Instagram ad and says TikTok is next. I laughed it off at first, but now I’m thinking I should have had you bake fifty dozen instead of forty.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say,” she replied in an awed tone. “Maybe I should ask him to do the same for my pies.”
“Not a bad idea. Pi Day is in March. Let’s give it a shot.” I gave her a thumbs-up and thanked Clive for loading the van, before scanning my kitchen.
Damn, it looked like business was booming here too.
My London kitchen was three times bigger than the one in Bath with multiple ovens and workspaces. It was also within walking distance of my flat in Camden Town, which was kind of perfect. I missed the place but not enough to come back just yet. I planned on staying as close to Theo as possible while he was in the UK.