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The never-ending string of stress associated with running a business astounds Caitlyn.
Going into it, she felt so incredibly prepared. She studied her ass off to become, not just a decent patissier, but a brilliant one and she has rewards in spades to prove it.
But number crunching, stock delays and staff shortages; simply aren’t her thing. The night course she did in the first year of operating hardly scratched the surface of conveying the sheer levels of stress and anxiety she would experience.
However, when there is no one else to turn to, and you have obscenely expensive rent, plus staff that need to be paid, you simply have no choice but to storm into the fray, and quite frankly, hope for the fucking best.
So far, it worked. Though this could simply be put down to the fact that she took the plunge and finally hired an accountant to manage the stressful financial matters.
But out of all the curveballs and issues Caitlyn has tackled over the past three years, moving to her dream shopfront location on the main strip of Piltover is by far the most stressful.
“Stop scowling out the window Caitlyn,” Jayce grumbles, bumping up against Caitlyn’s shoulder as he scowls across at his childhood friend. “You’re giving off an ‘I will shoot on sight’ vibe that’s not exactly great for business.”
Caitlyn huffs and softens her gaze, refusing to look away. “I’m sorry but look at them!” she exclaims, gesturing towards the coffee shop across the road. “This is our first week of operating in our new store and somehow they seem to have the entire city filing through their doors all day, every day! Meanwhile, things are painfully slow here.”
Jayce frowns and turns back to the front counter, his gaze fixed on the wide array of cakes and sweets laid out before him on the display shelving. “It does feel insanely unfair. We knew that shop does well but I did think they would at least cause us to get some trickle-down traffic for our first week or so. I mean who doesn’t want a macaron or tart with their coffee?”
“Appreciation for exceptional baked goods seems to be wasted on the locals on this strip it seems,” Caitlyn notes as she slips her hands into the depths of her trousers and walks over to the window, her gaze fixed on the bustling shop across the street.
Their shop is less high-end looking than hers. Far less unique too. After all, how innovative can you get with coffee?
Growling, Caitlyn’s hands flick behind her back, unfastening her apron and proceeding to toss it at Jayce. “Catch!”
The apron clocks him straight in the face causing him to stumble backwards before irritably yanking it off. “Was that really necessary?”
“I’m going over there,” Caitlyn answers, ignoring his question. Her hands nervously tug at her outfit, straightening her frighteningly plain outfit with a frown. “I wish I had a jacket or something. I look like the dreariest person alive in this black from head-to-toe ensemble and I’m covered in flour from baking earlier.”
Brow raised, Jayce turns his head unsurely. “Ah, firstly, this is a very bad idea, let that be known,” he notes. “Secondly, who cares what you are wearing? You’re just going there to get two takeaway coffees and bring them back after sussing the shop out. Right?”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. His attempt to score a free coffee out of her failing to evade detection. “How oddly specific of you,” Caitlyn teases, pausing for a moment as she shakes her head. “I am planning to dash in and dash out. There must be a good reason why so many ladies in the area seem to be flocking there throughout the day and we need to find out why. What do they have that we do not?”
“Coffee and a view?” Jayce suggests unsurely.
Unimpressed by his attempts to diffuse her frustration, Caitlyn simply frowns pointedly at her colleague. “That’s hardly helpful, both of those things are obvious. It’s clear there is much more going on and I am going to get to the bottom of it,” she declares, eyes narrowing as she turns to stare at the shop in question across the street. “I didn’t invest half my inheritance into this business and shopfront only to fail.”
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Jayce whispers under his breath, just loud enough for Caitlyn to hear.
A smirk creeps across her lips as she crosses her arms, her mind going a hundred miles a minute, his comment only serves to spur her on.
Coffee is to sweets and pastries, as butter is to bread. But that said, Caitlyn never has been much of a coffee drinker outside of her home. Takeaway or dine-in coffee is almost always brewed poorly if she is entirely honest. Too hot, burned beans, cheap and nasty beans, poor technique; the list goes on and on.
So in order to appear social, she merely attempts to tolerate it for the company’s sake or opts for tea where possible, an option that is far more likely to be served according to her tastes.
But today she has a purpose, a reason for ordering coffee that exceeds her likes and dislikes. Her business depends on her getting to the root of exactly why the neighbouring business is so successful at seizing the attention of any and all foot traffic. But there is one thing she is certain of; her baking skills and aesthetically pleasing shopfront are certainly not at fault.
So this beckons the question, why would someone choose to order one of these week old chocolate filled croissants sitting in the display window before her in the coffee shop? It is practically a cardinal sin to eat such a stale-looking pastry when there are larger, fresh options across the road at practically the same price point. Are people simply too lazy to wander across the road in search of their treats after purchasing a coffee or visa versa?
Caitlyn massages her lips together as she leans close to the display, her eyes carefully scanning the options laid out before her. Tarts, pastries and slices. All options she offers at her patisserie in varying flavours and with a more aesthetically pleasing appearance.
Without warning, a pair of grey-blue eyes lock with Caitlyn’s through the glass. So beautiful, she notes silently, frozen in time as she takes in the striking gaze peering back at her.
“So what’s your order, Cupcake? Caramel tart? Chocolate filled croissant? Or are you strictly an espresso with no sugar type of lady?” The barista notes with a grin as she stands up straight, planting one hand heavily down on the counter with a flirtatious wink. “You’re sweet enough already after all.”
For a moment, all the air feels as if it has been squeezed out of Caitlyn’s lungs. Her only thought is the nameless, beautiful woman who is flirting so openly with her. Part of her cannot help but wonder if she is the reason for the traffic this store receives.
Does she flirt with all the customers in order to get more repeat sales?
With her ruffled, short fuchsia hair, and her intricately tattooed arms, paired with those irresistible eyes of hers, it would not surprise her in the slightest. If there is one thing Caitlyn knows for certain, it is that this woman is dangerous . With all the makings of a serial flirt paired with the charisma to be quite a casanova.
But does she abuse this power?
Swallowing thickly, Caitlyn straightens her back, carefully avoiding eye contact as she looks up at the chalkboard behind the counter, feigning knowledge of the order she wishes to make. Somehow, the woman guessed somewhat correctly. But she will be damned if she lets her feel as if she has the upper hand in any capacity given that this is enemy territory.
“You sure assume a lot when you encounter a first-time customer,” Caitlyn replies smoothly as she feels the other woman scan her face. “I’ll have a double shot macchiato with no sugar and one of those,” Caitlyn continues, gesturing to a choux à la crème. She would rather eat glass than refer to it by its true name given its stale-looking exterior. Perhaps it lived up to its namesake two days prior, but certainly not now.
Caitlyn drags her attention back across to the barista as she bends over, carefully scanning the contents of the front window. “No sugar, I knew it. Do you mean one of those ball things at the front? Apparently, they are super tasty,” the barista replies with a grin as she taps away at the cash register. “Takeaway or dining in?”
Ball things! Dear God. She doesn’t even call them cream puffs, Caitlyn notes in complete and utter horror, her eyes peeling wide as if words of a blasphemous nature have spewed from the worker’s lips. Caitlyn shakes her head a fraction, attempting to refocus.
“Sorry, what was the question?” Caitlyn enquires sheepishly. Heat creeps across the apex of her cheeks as she watches the barista’s expression transform into a much more mischievous grin.
The barista presses her hands down on either side of the cash register and leans forward. “What will it be, Cupcake? Takeout or are you going to make my day brighter a little longer by dining in?”
One simple action and it instantly feels as if Caitlyn’s chest is ablaze, an unplaceable heat emanating from her chest. Lord have mercy. Please don’t look at me like that, she begs silently.
“The latter,” Caitlyn blurts out only to freeze. Wait. What did I just agree to? I said takeout, right? Right?
“Well, I do love a decisive woman,” the barista notes with a grin as she slides an order number stand across the counter towards Caitlyn. She quickly extends a hand in her direction, “My name is Vi, nice to meet you order number 114.”
Shit! I can’t change my answer now, I’ll sound like an idiot and she will know that I was distracted, Caitlyn curses silently as she seizes the stand, her eyes fixed on Vi’s hand as she silently waits for the offer to be reciprocated.
The chime of the bell on the door sings out behind Caitlyn followed by the chatter of new customers. Part of her wants to turn tail and run away, leaving the embarrassing situation she found herself in the past.
But what good will that do?
Vi clearly has no clue that she came into the shop to pick it apart nor does she appear to have any knowledge of the fact that she owns the shop on the opposite side of the road. So what harm is there in flirting with the enemy just a little ?
Caitlyn rolls her shoulders back, straightening her back as her gaze flicks up to Vi’s confidently despite the unsettling flutter of excitement in her stomach. “I’m Caitlyn,” she replies at last, reaching forward and shaking her hand firmly only for her grip to be met with equal vigour.
Why is her strength somewhat of a turn-on? Caitlyn wonders as she senses the new customers draw closer. Lashes fluttering nervously, she quickly releases her grip and walks off in pursuit of a well-placed table. Well, this is less than ideal. But at least I can look into the situation further.
Minutes roll by and Caitlyn cannot help but find her gaze drawn to the front counter, to her . The shop is quaint, cute and modern but nothing overly groundbreaking, the menu is simple but the flavour is yet to be determined. So the source of the shop’s success has to be her , Vi. Perhaps a premature assumption, but at a glance, she appears to be the heart and soul of the store. The defining factor that ensures that customers feel welcome.
Caitlyn tears her attention away from the front counter, drifting from table to table as she takes careful note of patrons enjoying their meals. It is difficult to not feel somewhat jealous. It should be her food, her shop. Why couldn’t it be? What exactly is her store missing?
“Here you go, Cupcake,” comes a familiar voice.
Caitlyn’s head snaps in the direction of the voice but she did not need to look in her direction to know it was Vi. They may have only just met but her voice is unmistakable as is the response she elicits within Caitlyn’s body.
“I thought you were the barista, not a waitress?” Caitlyn quips as she reaches forward, dragging the cup of coffee and choux à la crème towards her.
Vi sits opposite Caitlyn, a brow raised as she throws an arm thrown over the back of the chair. “Well, you’re the owner of that fancy-ass shop from across the road, not just a cute customer,” Vi teases as she cocks her head and shrugs playfully. “So I guess we can both wear multiple hats so to speak.”
Flabbergasted at Vi’s tenacity to call her out so openly, Caitlyn cannot help but feel panic set in. “W-What? Is it a crime to dine at a neighbouring coffee shop?” she stutters nervously, stumbling over her words as she tries and fails to maintain her composure as her identity is revealed in such a carefree manner.
“Technically, no,” Vi replies calmly as she pauses and slides her free hand across the table, tapping her fingers on its surface as she looks Caitlyn dead in the eye. “But it is awfully suspicious given I’ve been watching you pace in your front window most days.”
“I do not pace in the front window,” Caitlyn counters, her voice strained.
“Oh Cupcake, you pace like a person waiting to use the restroom,” Vi replies swiftly, her lips rippling as she attempts to hold back a burst of laughter. “Denial really doesn’t suit you, Cupcake,”
Frowning, Caitlyn crosses her arms under her breasts and turns to gaze out the front window towards her shop. It was beautiful as it ought to be for the insane amount of money she spent renovating it to a French-style shop front. Is it wrong to be frustrated that things are not off to the strongest start? Surely not.
“Fine, maybe I look out the front window a little,” Caitlyn concedes sheepishly, her gaze still fixed outside. “But before we moved we were doing so well. We would sell at least three times the amount we currently are and this location has more potential foot traffic.”
Vi shoots her a sympathetic look. “You’re scaring people off, Cupcake. You’re stressing about things far too openly,” she notes, shaking her head gently. “I honestly cannot count the number of times I’ve been asked why the heck a woman is glaring at them as they walk down the street.”
“You have not ,” Caitlyn retorts defensively as she turns her attention back to the beautiful woman seated opposite her. It is difficult to know if she is mocking her or being frank. Either way, she certainly does not care for it.
Vi nods her head. “Oh I have,” she replies quickly before waving a hand dismissively between the pair of them. “But don’t get me wrong, we were doing great before you moved across the street. But now we are thriving !”
“Seriously? Tap dancing on my grave?” Caitlyn notes with a glare. Is she for real? I opened up to her and she pokes fun at my suffering.
Clearly ignoring the look of contempt being shot her way, Vi grins. “I mean, you’re literally scaring those customers into our store. So thank you!”
“I hate you so much,” Caitlyn notes, her eyes narrowing. She huffs and turns her attention to the cup of coffee laid out before her. Surely there is no way such a frustrating person can even hope to make a half-decent cup of coffee.
Chuckling to herself, Vi raises a brow and shakes her head. “You’re a terrible liar, Cupcake. I saw how you looked at me earlier.”
God this is mortifying. If I knew there was a cute woman behind the counter I wouldn’t have even stepped foot in this place. This is enemy territory and not only are you the enemy you are the owner of this place, Caitlyn’s mind rambles as she stares point blank at Vi’s face. Her heart racing as she burns silently in her seat, unsure of what to say next. Vi wasn’t wrong, lying never has been her strong suit, and so she does the only other thing she can think to do.
Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn rolls her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe I am giving you too much credit here,” Vi confesses playfully as she taps her chin. “I mean you apparently didn’t realise you were chasing away store traffic after all.”
“I swear to God if this wasn’t a full store right now…”
“You’d what? Glare me to death?” Vi snickers. “Or is there some special pastry chef utensil hidden in your flour-coated uniform?” she adds, gesturing up and down Caitlyn’s attire.
Vi is hot, the type of hot that gets away with too much and gains too much confidence due to this fact. But that is not going to fly on Caitlyn’s watch.
Exhaling heavily, Caitlyn casts her gaze around the room, searching for any sign of higher authority. “Where is your manager, I cannot imagine they would be happy that you are speaking to me in this manner,” she enquires, half in jest, half tempted to turn her in.
“Calm down, Karen,” Vi laughs, throwing her head backwards.
Caitlyn winces. “It’s Caitlyn .”
Scoffing, Vi covers her mouth. “Sorry, I meant to say Cupcake. My bad.”
“So where is your manager?” Caitlyn asks once more, her patience wearing thinner by the second. Getting you into trouble is looking really tempting right about now. How are you not even slightly concerned about the prospect of this?
“Ah, that would be me,” Vi notes as she points her thumb towards herself. “I’m my own boss.”
“You’re not,” Caitlyn argues.
“I am,” Vi laughs. “Go look at the business registration papers we have framed behind the front desk, my name is on them.”
“Ugh,” Caitlyn mutters as she leans forward, planting her elbow down on the table, her chin instantly slotting into the curve of her palm. “Of course you are. Just my luck.”
Vi turns to face her completely, both arms settling heavily on the tabletop as she leans forward, closing the gap between them a little. “You say that, but your eyes say something very different.”
Caitlyn feels her chest tighten as she lifts her chin defiantly. Am I that easy to read? She wonders. I don’t like the idea of this in the slightest, especially in the hands of someone who appears to relish the idea of tormenting me.
“Oh, you think you know so much now don’t you?” Caitlyn retorts as she forces a smile. “But I think you are forgetting that it was you who flirted with me. Quite boldly might I add.”
The response elicits a confused look from Vi. “So what?” she replies quickly. “I can admit it. I think you’re cute Cupcake. So just admit it. You like what you see. You’ve got nothing to lose, or are you just a chicken?”
Caitlyn huffs and grits her teeth as she mulls over her response. She is baiting her, and as much as she wishes to reply irritably, it is precisely what this chaotic beautiful creature opposite her is seeking.
“I will not admit such a thing. I am here purely for business,” Caitlyn replies.
Lips rippling with amusement, Vi cocks her head. “Sure, Jan.”
Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn stares at Vi unsurely. “Why on earth do you insist on calling me every name under the sun other than my own?” she enquires, irritation dripping from her voice.
Vi clasps her hands together and leans forward, a triumphant smile partially hidden behind her hands. “Because you look so cute when you frown all angry at me like that, Cupcake,” she replies enthusiastically.
Inhaling sharply, Caitlyn’s eyes widen for a moment before she proceeds to shoot the most convincing glare she can muster as her heart flutters nervously away in her chest under the weight of Vi’s intense gaze.
Vi is undoubtedly dangerous . Jane Austen novel level of danger. Somehow, in the matter of only ten or so minutes of meeting her, Vi has managed to discover exactly how to both get under her skin in the most infuriating ways possible and also send her heart into a frazzled state at every opportunity possible.
“See I know you’re going for the whole threatening and cranky thing right now. But all I see is a cranky little puppy,” Vi chuckles as she plants her chin atop of her entwined hands, her eyes searching Caitlyn’s. “What’s the verdict on your order by the way? That is why you graced me with your presence, right?”
“I hate that you know why I’m here,” Caitlyn mutters under her breath as she drags her coffee closer by its saucer.
At face value, it looks okay . A large glass mug with a stainless steel handle and saucer, modern but boring. Something that can easily be overlooked if the taste compensates for this shortcoming. The froth on the other hand is immaculate with a stencilled dusting of chocolate on top illustrating the shop’s logo.
Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn lifts the mug to her lips, sniffing gently at the beverage before proceeding to take her first sip.
“Of course you do, now tell me the truth like a good girl,” Vi whispers just loud enough for Caitlyn to hear.
Coughing, Caitlyn shudders and quickly lowers the mug back to the saucer. “Jesus! I almost burnt myself when you said that!”
“Sorry, slip of the tongue and all that,” Vi snickers.
“That is not the saying,” Caitlyn retorts, eyes peeled wide as she stares across at the chaotic woman in complete horror.
“No? Well it should be,” Vi notes, quirking her brows mischievously.
“We are in public you know,” Caitlyn reminds her quickly.
“Is that an invitation ?” Vi counters, quick to poke fun at Caitlyn’s discomfort. “I’m down for it if you are Cupcake.”
Caitlyn’s eyes widen as she stares across at Vi in complete and utter horror, her face flushing a deep shade of pink as she carefully looks at the nearby tables with her peripheral vision to ensure no one overheard her crude comment.
A clown, Caitlyn is almost positive that she is in fact dealing with a clown masquerading as a business owner. Sure she is incredibly flustered at such a topic being raised, especially with a woman she is barely acquainted with. But that’s not to say that their discussion is without merit. As frustrating and embarrassing as it has been, it was without a doubt, fun .
“Oh my god, stop it. Do you really want your patrons to hear you saying such things?” Caitlyn warns her.
“A prude, interesting,” Vi muses out loud.
Huffing, Caitlyn shoots her a glare. “I am not a prude. I’ll have you know that I am the one that usually takes cha—” she starts to growl only to pause as she realises she fell prey to one of Vi’s jabs. She got me. Damn it.
“A dominant woman, noted,” Vi replies gleefully as she leans back into the curve of her chair, her brows quirking up and down playfully. “Now, what is the verdict on the coffee?”
Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn chooses to ignore the first half of Vi’s comment for fear of prolonging the uncomfortable conversation she does not wish to pursue with a stranger, even if she is a beautiful one.
Caitlyn peers down into her coffee mug, her eyes fixed on the beverage as she lifts it to her lips for a second sip. The complexity of its flavour immediately dances across her tastebuds leaving her warm and calm.
“I must be honest. I have low expectations, but it is a well-balanced blend and the beans are roasted to perfection. The foam is perfectly frothed too,” Caitlyn notes, her eyes lifting to that of her company. “I do not say this lightly either, I assure you.”
“And the ball?” Vi enquires eagerly, a broad grin spreading across her lips.
Caitlyn looks across at the pitiful pastry sitting on the plate beside her saucer and proceeds to poke it gently as she places her mug back down on the table. “Please for the love of god stop calling it that. It’s a choux à la crème or a cream puff if that is too difficult to pronounce,” she notes out loud as she hesitantly lifts the sorry excuse for a pastry to her lips and takes a small bite.
“I know what it is, I bought them,” Vi replies as she watches in anticipation.
Frowning, Caitlyn winces and carefully places the pastry back on its plate. “Well, wherever you sourced them I assume they either hate you or they hate their job,” she replies simply. “Not only is the pastry stale and lacklustre but the filling is incredibly plain and appears to be lacking enough vanilla flavouring and it almost tastes as if they halved the normal amount of sugar I expect to taste in a traditional crème for this pastry.”
“Owch, move over Cassandra Kiramann, we have a new food critic in town,” Vi notes as she reaches forward, turning the plate containing the pastry around to face her. “So much for fresh .”
She’s familiar with Mother’s work. How ironic, Caitlyn muses with an unsympathetic smile. “You asked for honesty,” she notes. “I am not one to dance around the truth, I do not have time for that or the patience.”
“What about a date, do you have time for one of those?” Vi asks as she picks up the cream puff and proceeds to take a large bite before placing it back down on the plate.
Indirect kiss, Caitlyn notes as she realises Vi took a bite of the same spot she did only moments earlier. Surely she could’ve gotten a new one for herself to try . Shaking her head she snaps back to the present. Did I just get asked out?
“A date?” Caitlyn repeats unsurely.
Vi nods and combs a hand through her short feathery locks as she ejects a sigh. “Yeah, a date. You know, where a couple of people who find each other attractive, go out for a nice meal or activity together.”
Immediately Caitlyn wants to accept. To simply have another chance to spend close and intimate time with this woman. But it is complicated, perhaps too complicated.
Caitlyn’s fingers fiddle with her mug as she focuses intently on her coffee. “The life of a patissier is quite intense. I work nearly all the time,” she confesses earnestly. “If the store isn’t open and requiring my attention, then I’m baking or working on recipe creation. I barely have time to sleep, let alone go on dates.”
“Your employee can surely manage that much. He can’t be that much of an idiot that he doesn’t know how to use a cash register,” Vi replies matter-of-factly. “I get it. Work-life balances are hard. But if I see something I want or someone I want to be with, I go for it. No excuses.”
“But it’s more than that. We are basically competitors in the same market,” Caitlyn reasons. “It’s just too c— ”
“Look, you can make up excuses all you want, but it’s just one date. I’m not expecting to jump in your bed, Cupcake,” Vi cuts in, her voice riddled with amusement as she reaches across the table, her fingertips grazing across Caitlyn’s for a brief moment before retracting. “You know what they say, rivals to lovers is the best flavour.”
“I will think about it, but for now, thank you for the intel. I can assure you that I will not go easy on you from here on out,” Caitlyn replies diplomatically as she lifts her mug back up to her lips, carefully lapping up the fiery glimmer in Vi’s eyes, clearly not dissuaded by her indirect rejection.
Vi traces her thumb across her lower lip. “Calm down Cupcake, or I’m gonna have to get serious over here,” she quips keenly.
“Good, I like a challenge,” Caitlyn responds with a smirk. “Do your worst.”
“Right back at you, Cupcake,” Vi replies, shooting Caitlyn a wink as she rises to her feet. “I’ll see you bright and early for your morning pacing session in the front window.”
“You never quit, do you?” Caitlyn counters somewhat bitterly.
“Quitting isn’t in my vocabulary, Cupcake.”