But if I make a pros and cons list of Whitney Porter, I’ve got a lot more pros than cons. For some reason, in my mental chart, BIG HIPS and BIG ASS are in huge 20-point font under the ‘cons’ heading while all the items under the ‘pros’ heading are in an itty-bitty 8-point font.
I unlock the front door of my building. My apartment is a fifth floor walk-up, and I sigh while staring into the dark depths. But then I try to remember what I do have going for me: my bakery. My job is to taste cookies and tarts and frosting and cake batter all day long, and who could ask for more?
My cat greets me with a series of demanding meows as soon as he hears my key in the lock, and I reach down to pet him.
“Hey Apollo. You have some ideas on how I can make money? SugarTime isn’t going to be standing much longer if I’m not careful.”
Apollo merely perks his ears. Then, he goes over to my laptop and does a shimmy with his svelte, furry body.
“So you think I should be a stripper?” I say archly. “Really? You think I should get on stage?”
Apollo merely shimmies again, and then he lets out a long, raucous, “MEOOOOWRR!”
“Hey, that wail wasn’t too sexy-sounding,” I laugh. “I don’t think being a dancer is going to work out for you.”
But surely, there has to be something I can do to keep my business afloat, isn’t there? Maybe not stripping, but something? Sighing, I take a seat on my couch and flip open my laptop to begin searching for ideas.
2
Peter
I’m thankful for our business model today. I think of all my fellow restaurateurs who are likely going to have to shut down because of the pandemic. At least at Shake Place, we already have a thriving delivery and carry-out business. We’ll be able to rely on those orders to keep us going through these difficult times.
I send out information to all my managers on ordering masks and how to take extra sanitary precautions. I’ve also informed them that no one should be fired if they need to stay home, whether for health or personal reasons.
I consider going back to my empty penthouse but change my mind and head into The Three Point Line, a sports bar owned by one of my former employees. Luke started working for me when he was in high school and became one of my first managers. After a couple years, he decided to head out on his own, with my full blessing. He’s done well, and the Three Point Line usually has lots of crowds. It’s a sports bar, so they do best during March Madness and the Superbowl. Now, all sports are cancelled.
Luke has still had his regulars but I know his gross receipts are taking a hit, and he looks grim at the bar.
“Hey Pete, how have you been?” he greets me.
My old employee is behind the bar, slinging drinks himself to a handful of customers sipping their beers. I slide onto a stool, grateful to get off my feet.
“I’m good, Luke. I just got finished with helping my stores implement new safety procedures. How about you? Same?”
He grimaces.
“Well, I have to close tomorrow. But we’ll be alright. I got my start in this business from a guy who taught me a lot about how to run a restaurant in the black. I’ve been smart and put some money aside for the bar in case of an emergency. Plus, Julie works for the city so she’s still going to have a paycheck coming in. I’m just glad we haven’t decided to start a family yet.”
“You don’t want kids?” I ask, brow arched.
He sighs.
“Someday. Just not now. What about you? Does the legendary Peter Coleman plan on having a family?”
I chuckle at that. “Legendary? What does that mean?”
“Oh, come on Pete. Working for you as a teenager, you were like a god to us. You had all the hot chicks lining up to see you. We all wanted to be you because you were dating a different girl every week.”
“Was I really that bad?”
My friend laughs, and I’m glad to see a smile on his face.
“Bad? No way, it was awesome. It’s just that when I met Julie all the other girls faded into the background.”
I think to myself. Has that ever happened to me? Truthfully, I have to say no. One of the things about New York is its multitude of women. There always seem to be more choices, and I admit, I’ve availed myself of those choices plenty of times.
Speaking of which, a slender blonde takes the stool beside me. She’s beautiful with her hair cut in a bob with severe bangs. Her make-up is immaculate, and her lips have been injected with collagen, but it’s done tastefully. She carries a signature Louis Vuitton bag and has on those red-soled heels with her designer jeans.