“You would too after twenty-five years. Her nicknames weren’t kind.”
“Where do Jerry, Tim, Tieg, and today’s asshole come in?”
She pointed at me while she chewed. When she finished that piece, she leaned back on the couch to relax. “They all spent a good portion of the date suggesting in not so subtle, and in a multitude of different ways, that my hips and ass were too big. The date I had today suggested I get a salad instead of a burger.”
“Well, fuck them then. If you’ve been this way since the day you were born, what makes you think you can change it because someone points it out? Tell them to kiss your sweet ass and walk away. Why do you give them the power to make you feel bad about it?”
“I tried that once. It backfired on me, and now Darla knows she’s got the power.”
“I know I’m sober, but that made no sense, so it must be because you’re drunk.”
Her finger waved at me from across the room. “You asked why I named the bakery The Fluffy Cupcake?” I nodded and leaned forward, ready for the story. “Darla has called me a fluffy cupcake since the first day of kindergarten.”
My finger went up in the air, and my mouth opened and closed a couple of times. It took me too long to come to a simple conclusion. “You named your business after the hateful nickname someone has called you your whole life?”
Her palm connected with her forehead, and she shook her head. “Dumb, I know. I thought I was thumbing my nose at Darla. Now she just gloats every time she struts in there like a queen. As if she got me, you know?” she asked, making the digging motion with her hand.
I shrugged and leaned back on the chair. “Only because you continue to let her think that.”
Haylee swirled her finger around my face. “You’ve bought into this whole giving someone else the power thing, haven’t you? Where the hell does that come from?”
“I had to learn early on that if I didn’t have the power, I was the one who got hurt. You’re living proof of that statement. I think you should own those hips and ass, and not just pretend to do it, either. You should own it and mean it every single time.”
“Body positivity ‘n shit?” she asked, a brow in the air.
“More like body acceptance. You need to start accepting yourself for who you are. The next time you date a guy who doesn’t like it, tell him to kiss it and sashay those hips and ass right out of there. Next time Darla walks into the bakery, swing those bad boys out there, and hip-check her into next week.”
“Accept me?” she asked as though she had to make sure she heard me right. “Like, all of me?”
My chuckle should have made her mad, but I think she was too curious to be mad. Apparently, the concept of accepting yourself was hard to grasp for drunk Haylee. “Yes, all of you. It’s like you don’t see that you’re the owner of a wildly successful business that keeps half of this town fed every day, and provides all the memorable food for their special events. You don’t see that you’re the reason over half a dozen people are employed and making a living in a tiny town like this. Instead, you’re always focused on what your hips and ass, your words not mine,” I said, holding up my hands in defense, “look like in your work pants. At the risk of getting slapped or fired, I have zero problems with those hips and ass or the way they look in your work pants. I don’t think being a fluffy cupcake is a bad thing. I’m not buying a bridge here, either. I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
Her eyes widened, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke. “Oh, sure, because you’ve dated so many women like me, I’m sure.”
“I haven’t, but not for lack of trying. You’re beautiful, and you deserve to be happy. Anyone who doesn’t think so can fuck off.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Brady. You’re a tall, strong, muscular guy that every woman wants to date.”
My finger went up in the air again and paused. “Not every woman. There is one particularly stubborn one who won’t date me. That said, the two of us,” I whispered, motioning my finger between us, “we’re not that different. We both came from places where we didn’t get a lot of positive reinforcement about who we are as a person. If you think I don’t know that you hired me because of my past, you don’t give me much credit.”
Her finger wagged back and forth as mine did. “That’s not true. I hired you because you were qualified for the job, and I saw a hunger in you to find a community of people to call family. I once had the same hunger in me that I saw in your eyes that day.”
My head nodded vigorously. “You just made my point. We’re not that different.”
Haylee stood and tipped to the right until I grabbed her shoulder and held her upright. “But we are. You’re the guy every girl wants to land. I’m the girl every guy wants to pretend doesn’t exist. At the very least, all they want to do is change me.” Her hand waved dismissively in the air. “That’s enough talking for one night. I’m tired, and you have to work tomorrow.”
“Are you going to be okay alone up here tonight? Please, don’t go down those stairs until you’re steadier on your feet,” I said, going to the door and grabbing the doorknob.
She crossed her heart and pointed down the hallway. “I’m going to fall into bed and sleep for about five hours. By the time I wake up, I’ll be fine. Thanks for tonight,” she said, waving and walking down the hallway, while I continued to stand by her door.
When she closed the bedroom door, I whispered the words that had been burning in my mouth since she spoke hers. “The very last thing I want to do is pretend you don’t exist or change you, Haylee Davis. I would live the rest of my life happy to be wrapped around those hips and ass.”
Ten
The air vents of the walk-in cooler blew a whisper of cold air across my neck. I might have noticed the shiver of charged electricity run down my spine if it weren’t for the aggravation filling my soul. “Where are my eggs?”
Nothing annoyed me more than being told my station was ready for the day only to find a key ingredient missing. I was going to hunt him down, and—the eggs are still on the shelf!
“Gah! It must be Monday,” I griped to the empty, cold space. I grabbed the tray and backed up to the door, nudging the handle with my generous bottom. It didn’t budge. I pushed on it again, expecting the latch to click over, but it wasn’t opening. “Great! Now I’m locked in the cooler!”
I absolutely did not need this today. I had a ton of orders to finish before we opened, and it was already five a.m. It didn’t help that I had the slightest hangover from my excessive and embarrassing drinking escapades. I wanted to groan every time I thought about spending hours with Brady last night with my filter disabled. Drunk Haylee said things sober Haylee would never have said. Brady knew it, too. He took advantage of the situation. At least when it came to getting me to talk about the things I otherwise wouldn’t talk about. Not going to lie, sober Haylee hates him a little bit because of it. Okay, she doesn’t, but sober Haylee is embarrassed and wishes she could do last night over.
I balanced the tray on one arm while I flicked the emergency button on with my free hand. That would shut down the cold air and alert those in the kitchen that I needed help. In the meantime, I had to cool my heels in here, quite literally.