Jada wasn’t so sure. She’d rarely succeeded or stuck with anything for long. She didn’t know how this situation would be any different—not working for that man, anyway. But she did want her trust fund. She stifled yet another groan. Who was she kidding? She needed a job now, forget the trust fund. Money was money, and in less than two weeks, she wouldn’t have any coming in. She couldn’t tell Grams what her parents had done. She didn’t want to be the source of a potential rift between her mom and her grandmother.
What was a little flour, hairnets, and a polyblend polo compared to all that? It was only for a few months. Donovan couldn’t be the only person who worked at Sugar Blitz. She’d hang out, ignore him, make enough money to buy groceries and pay her bills, and collect her trust fund at the end of her sentence, thank you very much.
Great. It looked like her nemesis had become her mentor. Absolutely freaking great.
* * *
Donovan jumped like a skittish cat when the bell over the front door chimed. His shoulders slumped when a harried man in a business suit rushed inside. “It’s my daughter’s day to bring in snacks to her first-grade class, and I completely forgot.”
Donovan smiled. “No worries, man. I got you.” He welcomed the distraction. He’d been antsy since he woke up that morning.
Not that he was counting down the minutes until his newest hire, Jada Townsend-Matthews, arrived. He just didn’t know what to expect, that was all. He liked order and sensible actions. Jada promised neither of those things.
He’d been more than a little surprised to get the email from Mrs. T’s assistant last night letting him know Jada couldn’t wait to start at Sugar Blitz.
No message from Jada herself, of course. Not that he’d anticipated one. But today was a new day, and she’d be walking through the door any second now. In any case, he needed to pay attention to the most important person in this shop. “What’s your daughter’s favorite flavor?”
He was working the front counter by himself this morning. Nicholas was in the kitchen working on a new cupcake flavor, August wasn’t scheduled until the afternoon, and Ella was running late.
The proud dad smiled. “Chocolate with sprinkles.”
“Sounds good. Why don’t we go with a mixture of chocolate and vanilla?”
The guy’s face relaxed with relief. “Perfect. I’ll need a dozen.”
After grabbing a to-go box, Donovan opened the display case and extracted the agreed-upon goodies. As always, his stomach rumbled as soon as the intoxicating scents of chocolate, cream, and sugar hit his nose. He knew from extensive taste-testing that the cupcakes were spectacular. Nicholas had perfected the simple but incredibly important recipes during his first year with the Knights, when he’d been a nervous rookie looking to blow off some steam.
The customer handed over his credit card. “Thanks, again. You’re a lifesaver. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m not talking about what you do on the football field. I am a huge fan, but this tops that by a mile. I’m going to be the coolest dad in first-grade history thanks to these cupcakes.”
Donovan smiled. “Glad I could be of service. Be sure to come back.”
“I absolutely will.” The dad headed to the door while Donovan reached under the register and grabbed more to-go boxes to restock the counter.
“Oh, hey, sorry,” the dad said. “I was in such a rush I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay,” a soft, bougie voice answered. “No harm, no foul.”
Donovan’s head snapped up. Jada stood just inside the front entrance. She was smiling at the dad. Donovan sucked in a breath. A perfect face had, somehow inexplicably, become even more perfect with the simple action. That he wasn’t the recipient of said action meant nothing. Hell, he hadn’t even known she knew how to smile.
The dad held up the box. “I’m in a rush. Got to get these to my daughter’s school before snack time.” Yet he didn’t move, obviously mesmerized by the stunning woman in front of him.
Delight spread across her face. “Oh, that’s so nice. I would have loved if my dad had brought cupcakes to my class. Your daughter’s so lucky.”
The dad, who clearly wasn’t in that damn big of a hurry, fucking preened. “Oh, it’s nothing. You’re too kind.”
Okay, yeah, that was enough of the mutual admiration society. Donovan cleared his throat. Jada’s gaze swung his way. The smile instantly faded away from her expressive face. He would not feel some type of way about how she’d gone from joy to annoyance in a nanosecond thanks to him.