I don’t know why because I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough. I think part of me doesn’t want him to try and pull strings to help me get the job. I want to get it because I’m good at what I do and not because Q is one of my brother’s friends. In fact, I had no idea who he was until recently when I’d formally met him at my brother's wedding.
He sought me out when he found out I made the cake that night, though I’d felt his eyes on me before that. I don’t know how I ended up with an interview. I’d been a babbling mess when he sat down next to me and complimented my cake.
He invited me to his restaurant, saying they needed help with their desserts, something they are in dire need of with Valentine's Day around the corner. I bet he regretted the invitation a few seconds after he gave it to me. I went and spilled my drink right in his lap when his eyes locked with mine.
I’d been thrust back in time to when I was a thirteen-year-old girl. His dark blue eyes were the same as Austin’s, my first crush. He was the boy I could never forget even all these years later. It was like he was right there again, stealing the air out of my lungs like he always did when I was a little girl.
It’s crazy because Q looks nothing like my Austin except for his eyes. Although Austin’s were usually hidden behind glasses more often than not. He was a bit dorky and the only boy that didn’t tower over me. He was different from all the others, and I think that’s why I crushed so hard on him.
Now Q Hart is bigger than life. The man is probably two feet taller than me and is known for his beautiful restaurants. He’s also known for being one of the hottest and most eligible bachelors in the city. Or so I read online after I did a bit of stalking. He might not be Austin, but even I couldn’t deny the man was dang hot. I was surprised by my attraction to him, but it was there.
Q shot up from his seat after I spilled my drink and went to clean himself up. I all but fled the wedding, thankful that my brother couldn’t keep his hands off his new bride and left his own party early. I was surprised when he reached out to me to lock down when I’d be coming in. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing, but my plan is to take a handful of desserts with me for him to try. I might be a bit of a mess at times, but I know how to bake. It’s the one thing I’m good at.
When I was little and got the chance to use the kitchen, I’d pretend I was baking for my husband and children and spoiling them all with my treats. It was my way of playing make believe. In those rare moments, I got to fall into a fantasy of having a family of my own. I’d always take my extras and give them to Austin. Until he went and moved away.
I pause in the mirror when I’m done getting ready, realizing I might have let myself fall into the fantasy once more. In my little pink cardigan and long skirt, I look like I've dropped out of the nineteen fifties.
I pull out my phone, planning to take a picture to send to Cupid when I see I already have a text from him.
Cupid: Good luck, sweets.
I love when he calls me sweets. He’s been doing that since we bumped into each other on an online cooking website years ago. We started talking in the comments on the website Cupid’s Love of Sweets, which was his blog.
Soon it turned to emails then texts, and I’ve been crushing on him from the start. He flirts but never takes things further. I even sent him a few pictures lately, hoping he’d send one back, but no luck. How am I half in love with a man who I’ve never actually seen? But that doesn’t matter to me. No one knows me better than Cupid. Years of texts and emails have made us more than friends, or at least that’s how I feel.
I know Cupid lives here in the city, and I thought when I got back from California he’d ask to meet up in person, but he hasn’t. Each day he doesn’t ask, my heart breaks a bit more. He’s the first person I’ve let in since my silly crush on Austin when I was little.
Me: Thank you
Checking the time, I skip the picture, not wanting to come off too needy. The outfit will have to do since I have no time to change now. I leave it be and rush to the kitchen to pack up my treats. I might not get my fantasy of having a family, but maybe I can at least land myself a job.