Chapter Twenty-One
There were crises, and there werecrises.The roach claim fell into the latter category, hands down.
Sammy’s digital associate, Penny, had alerted him to a viral tweet showing a photo of a cockroach baked into one of Crumble & Bake’s cupcakes. The user was anonymous, known only by the screen name @raiderssucks23, but the post had garnered over 50,000 likes and spread to other social media platforms—Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and even YouTube, where drama-thirsty channels declared Crumble & Bake “canceled.”
In the days following the tweet, Sammy barely slept. There were meetings upon meetings on how to respond and whether it was a real claim or sabotage (from a rival bakery, perhaps). There were calls to and from the city’s Department of Public Health. The media went crazy over the story, and both Sammy’s and Crumble & Bake’s social accounts were inundated with messages. Some were from supporters, others were trolls or people screaming for answers on how, exactly, a cockroach had made its way into one of the company’s signature products. It wasn’t just social media, either—it was email, phone lines, reporters showing up outside the bakery unannounced. Sammy was ready to delete all his personal accounts, but Penny convinced him it would make him look guilty and that it would be a horrible PR mistake. Business dwindled, and expansion plans for D.C. and New York halted as the staff got all hands on deck to manage the fallout from one fucking tweet.
It was a nightmare—especially because Sammy didn’t know for sure if the claim was real.
What if someone reallyhadfound a roach baked into their cupcake? He trusted his staff, and he prided himself on running a tight ship, but things slipped through the cracks.
“Fuck!” He tugged his hair in frustration. The thought of such a huge screw up made him sick.
He’d poured years, most of his money, and all of his blood, sweat, and tears into his business. Not to mention, there were dozens of people counting on him for their jobs and livelihood. Crumble & Bake was booming—or it had been until a few days ago—but it was still a small business. It wasn’t a giant corporation with decades of name recognition and which, yeah, might suffer during a PR crisis but likely wouldn’t go under because of some bad press. If Sammy didn’t figure this shit out and stem the tide of negative public opinion, he’d fail not just himself but everyone around him.
“Fuck, fuck,fuck!”
Not helpful, but he needed to vent. He hadn’t slept or eaten in seventy-two hours, and he was dangerously close to losing his sanity.
The door opened on his lastfuck. Liam poked his head in, his face pale and withdrawn. He loved the bakery as much as Sammy did, and as Sammy’s second-in-command, he’d been equally tortured over the idea that such a huge hygiene violation might have occurred during his watch. “They’re here.”
Sammy rubbed a hand over his face and wrested his frustration under control. “Bring them in.”
The crisis communications consultants he’d hired piled into his office in a whirlwind of suits and leather. Sammy spent the next few hours with them hammering out a strategy. It didn’t escape his notice that he should already have a plan in place—another sign that management wasn’t his forte. But he’d never had a PR issue before, and the need for a crisis comms plan had fallen by the wayside as he dealt with the million other things on his plate.
Both he and the consultants agreed they needed to get to the bottom of what happened. How did the roach get into the cupcake? Who was responsible? Sammy also needed to issue an official statement on behalf of Crumble & Bake, retrain staff on food safety protocols, and make sure all external messaging about the incident remained consistent. The consultants warned Sammy not to get defensive or sucked into negative message spirals, and never respond to media requests with “no comment.” Instead, he should explain what happened, how it happened, and the concrete steps he was taking to fix the issue and prevent a reoccurrence.
By the time the consultants left, a migraine pounded behind Sammy’s temple and he was tempted to break out the whiskey, even though it was only two in the afternoon.
There was another knock on the door.
“Come in,” Sammy grunted.
He’d expected to see Liam or maybe Cordelia, who kept popping in with food to make him feel better, but to his surprise, Olivia entered.
Sammy’s heart lifted at the sight of her. She was the one person who could make him feel somewhat better these days. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”
“I have one summer Friday left, and I took it.” Her face creased with sympathy. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m holding.” Sammy sighed. “This is the longest week ever.”
“It’ll blow over.” Olivia came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “C&B went years without any food safety issues. Surely people wouldn’t hold one mistake against you.”
People were petty enough to do just that, but Sammy tried to see the glass as half full. The last thing he needed was more pessimism.
“We’ll see. C’mere.” He pulled Olivia onto his lap. “I can’t believe you came all the way down here.”
“I had to take care of some things at the office even though it’s a summer Friday, or I would’ve come sooner.” Olivia brushed her lips against his. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Because I can hop right back out. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. We haven’t had the chance to talk much this week.”
“Nah, I could use a break.”
“Good. Any chance you can take the rest of the afternoon off? You can go back into crisis management mode later, but it’s a beautiful day.” She gestured out the window, where the sun blazed against a cloudless blue sky. “Fresh air always helps clear my mind.”
Sammy thought about it for two seconds. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.” His brain was fried, and he’d been staring at the walls of his office for days on end. Fresh airwoulddo him good.
“Perfect. Before we leave though...”
He raised a questioning brow.