“Of course not. A focus group is a fabulous idea. I feel like you know the building staff better than I do and I’ve lived here for five years.”
She giggles.
“It’s never too late to get to know the staff, Peter.”
I kiss her cheek.
“Yeah, but they’d never adore me the way they adore you.” After all, Whitney is so magnetic and she reminds me not to take anyone for granted. Then she gets down to business.
“So I want to start with the unusual flavors such that the more common ones don’t overwhelm them. Are you ready?”
“Absolutely, what will we start with?”
“Hibiscus, strawberry, dragonfruit and lavender white chocolate cheesecake.”
She has expertly prepped everything and apparently made an egg-free cheesecake batter and a complete cheesecake so we can compare the smooth versus the chunky. I take a bite.
“These are epic, Whit. Wow. Are we bringing all this downstairs?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention? I told them they could come up here if they weren’t too worried about social distancing. I mean seriously, this place is big enough that they can stay six feet apart. Most of them said they were already working together in the same space, so they really didn’t see how this would be different, except that they would be getting milkshakes. Only one guy declined to come upstairs because his wife has a compromised immune system. He’s going to watch the front desk and Sarah agreed to wear a mask and gloves to take him the samples.”
The elevator dings and eight people pour out of it. I get a lot of thank-you-for-inviting-me’s and Sarah is by Whitney’s side, hugging her and offering to help. Whitney’s like an older sister to Sarah, and I find myself wondering if Whitney wants kids. She would clearly make a fantastic mother with her kindness and ability to instantly connect with others.
“Are we going to get into trouble for all being together?” Sarah asks. She’s not a rule breaker according to her dad.
I want to allay her unease so I make a show of counting heads.
“Sarah, the guideline is no gatherings of more than ten people and we only have ten, so we’re good.”
Whitney smiles and nods at her and gives her shoulder a comforting pat.
“Want to pass these out for me?” Whitney asks the awkward teenager, extending a tray of paper cups filled with pastel pink and purple dairy treats.
The tasting begins, and it seems Whitney has also created a rating sheet for each person. Sarah’s delighted to report the first two confections get 10/10 all across the board.
“What flavor is next, Miss Whitney?” the eager young girl asks, taking my place as chef’s assistant. I readily concede my duties and join George and the others. George is just beaming at the two young women in the kitchen. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he sees Whitney as an excellent role model and maternal figure, just like I do.
Samples flow out two by two: nutty Irish cream and peanut butter and jelly followed by pomegranate blueberry and peach raspberry. I haven’t decided how many new flavors to accommodate, but the choice is going to be tough because everyone seems to love each one.
But the gathering gets me to thinking. I see these people and greet them by name on a daily basis, but I know so little about them. I feel somewhat embarrassed to just find out that Robert, one of the front desk attendants, used to work at Shake Place. He’s nice and says I couldn’t possibly know everyone that works for me, which is true, but I should have taken the time to get to know these people I see every day a little bit better. I make my way back to the kitchen to check on my girl. Sarah has taken samples downstairs to our social distancing desk clerk.
“Whitney, I just found out Robert used to work for Shake Place. I had no idea.”
“Oh yeah, in Syracuse. He worked there his senior year in high school and all through community college. He moved to New York to start his Broadway career. He has a wonderful singing voice, and just needs to catch a break.”
My mouth is agape.
“How do you know all this?”
She shrugs.
“I don’t know. I guess bringing baked goods makes you seem trustworthy, so people talk. I’m not good at initiating conversations in a bar or on the subway, but I love talking to customers at SugarTime. I’m in my comfort zone surrounded by cakes and cookies; otherwise, I’m just awkward.”
I shake my head.
“That’s not true. I don’t see you as awkward at all. You are graceful, elegant, and sophisticated, sweetheart.”
She smiles ruefully.
“No one has ever seen me the way you do. I feel like I could conquer the world when I’m with you because I’d definitely succeed.”
I lean in to kiss her because I know my girl is special. Whitney could absolutely conquer the world, one cupcake at a time.