I laugh. That抯 exactly what Sweeter Grind抯 ads promise about the otherworldly Regis roll, a creation of Clarissa and Leo Regis, two small-town sweet shop owners made famous by some crazy drama a few years back.
揘ever mind,?he snaps. 揧ou want to make this sale or what??
揧ou should do commercials,?I tell him with a huff. 揑s that what this is? Some strange guerrilla marketing thing??
I hold my breath. At least that would explain Mr. GQ Model going absolutely ballistic over something so trivial.
Also, it抯 the one-year anniversary of the most humiliating day of my life.
I need this roll like I still need to believe there抯 a shred of goodness in this world. What kind of psycho tries to buy someone抯 cinnamon roll off them for five times the price, anyway?
揇o I look like a comedian??he snarls, his eyes rolling. 揊ifty dollars. Easy money. Trade.?
揇ude, you抮e insane,?I whisper back.
揇udette,?he barks back, slightly more frantic. 揑 assure you, I am not. I need that roll, and I抦 willing to pay you generously. I trust you need the money more than I do.?
I scoff at him so hard my face hurts.
Rub it in, why don抰 you? I guess I should up and be amazed you抮e deigning to talk to us 憀ittle people,?your pastry-obsessed highness.
揑t must be nice, oh Lord of the Pastries. What do I get for an apple pie? A laptop??I shake my head.
His done-with-your-bullshit glare intensifies.
揇akota!?A male barista calls my name and plunks my drink on the counter.
Awesome. There抯 my cue to exit this asylum and head back to the springtime sanity outside where birds tweet and flowers bloom and nobody goes to war over cinnamon shortages.
I grab my drink and start for the door.
揥ait!?Hot Shrek calls. 揇akota.?
Ughhh.
My name shouldn抰 sound so deliciously rough on a man抯 lips. Especially not a man offering exorbitant sums to strangers for their baked goods.
Knowing I抣l regret this, I stop and meet his eyes.
揥hat??I clip.
揥e haven抰 finished.?
揜ight. Because there抯 no deal,?I snap, turning again.
Okay. Before, I was just looking forward to stuffing my face with sticky goodness. Now, I need this flipping cinnamon roll like oxygen.
If I spite the hottest freak who crawled out of the ogre swamp, I抣l have something to laugh about later.
True to the promise I made the barista, I抣l savor the flavor while wallowing in a little less of my own misery and reminding myself I抦 living a better life now梬hich apparently includes handsome stalkers begging to throw cash at me.
揥ait. I need it more than you do. I swear,?he says harshly, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around.
I bat his hand away, doubly annoyed and taken aback.
揧ou抮e insane. Touch me again and I抣l press charges for robbery. It抯 a cinnamon roll, dude. Calm down and come back tomorrow when they抮e replenished.?I panic chug my latte and walk out the door.
Hot Stalker Shrek is undaunted.
He trails me outside as I stroll into the Seattle sunshine, taking a deep breath.
揝eventy-five!?he calls after me.
揥hat??
揝eventy-five dollars.?
揢m, no.?I speed walk to the bike rack and unlock my wheels with one hand, balancing the Regis roll and the latte in the other.
揙ne hundred dollars even,?he belts after me.
Holy Moses. How high will he go?
揙ne fifty!?he calls two seconds later.
There goes my jaw, crashing to the pavement.
A chill sweeps through me. I抦 worried we抮e leaving eccentric waters for clinically crazy.
Part of me wants to keep him talking just so he doesn抰 carry me off to his evil lair. I imagine a storage shed stacked to the ceiling with crumpled cinnamon roll boxes.
揇id you really just offer me a hundred and fifty dollars for a cinnamon roll??I place the latte in a cup holder on my handlebar and climb on the bike.
He gives me an arctic look, like he knows he抯 got me now and I抳e already accepted his bizarro deal.
揧ou抮e welcome. You can Uber and still have a nice chunk of change.?
I scan him up and down, purposely glancing at his polished leather shoes a second too long. In another time and place, I抎 take a nice big sip of my latte and spray it on his shoes but…that抯 not how I roll.
I have my dignity. I plan to have a little more of it when I抦 safely away from here, too.
揟his may come as a shock, but not all of us worship money, King Midas,?I say.
揥hat抯 that supposed to mean??he says with a snort, squaring his hulking shoulders.
揧ou抮e a nutter. Like actually insane.?My eyes flick to his wrists for good measure, legit wondering if I抣l see a hospital band.
揑 am not. Have you ever tasted a Regis roll? Seattle抯 top food critic described them as梬hat was it? A category ten mouth-gasm??