A little bit of sugar but lots of poison too

This is it!

I look up the tall structure, even the right of the building scaring me to death. Am I really about to do this? I mean, you can get sued for this kind of thing right? Hell, if the man I'm after is indeed the owner of this building then if he sued me, my customers would be the least of my worries, shit, the damned bakkery would be the least of my worries.

Maybe I should let it go either way, I mean, it can't be the end of the world if I sell my bakery right? I'll just sell it and move to another town, Crescent moon is not the only place for me surely. Yes, I have no choice anyway, even though Milk and Cookies Bakery opened three months ago, they have managed to rake up every single one of my customers with their ridiculous prices and their fancy setup. They even have free ice cream, its a fucking bakery for fudge's sake!

My Littlest Pastries never stood a chance. Even old lady Mc Beth simply buys my bread out of pity before sneaking across the street to the rivals. Not that I blame her, the fancy garden themed shop is a heaven. I hear some of Gordon Ramsey's colleagues are employed there as bakers, hell even I've tasted their tarts and Lydia, my little sister and assistant baker don't even stand a chance. I still went to the mayor's office to complain. The same thing had happened to Alex, my bestfriend's supermarket and she had gone to request price floors from the council. Business has been better for her ever since. My visit to the offices did not go well though. The mayor, Mr Ralph informed me straight out that the owner, Mr Storm donates thousands to the town because of some sentimental reason and he would do nothing to jeapordize his so called generosity. He did give me Mr Storm's business card though, so I could discuss any "grievances" I have with him directly, and I would need to do this before the Baked Love Festival, the festival dedicated to our late town founders Robert and Mia Sable. Their love for baked goods was legendary but they never got to opening their own. They died with their plans of a bakery Dilled with love and friendship, a bakery that would bring people together. So for one day, every second Saturday of every December, the townfolk have dedicated the day to socializing and buying as many baked goods for each other as possible. For years my family bakery has been the only bakey in town, setting out a large tent and selling millions of pastries in a single day. Somehow I don't see that happening this year and the fact that for a whole three months I've only been getting pity sales and I've hardly been hardly getting by.

My father would be so disappointed. Who am I kidding, the gay son who is only five foot six and can hardly catch a ball is all the dissapointment he can get, being a former football player himself. A knee injury and severe drinking habits later, he was left a divorced bitter man who hated his gay son who looks like the woman who left him. My mother, the former owner of the bakery is now on a cruise with his new husband, a kind doctor from New York and my father's liver finally collapsed. It's like I can hear him laughing at me all the way from hell.

I can't let my mom down though, so after some mean words from Alex and some cookie hype, I took the first train into the Big Apple and here I am now, small boy in black skinny jeans, a pink shirt and black sneakers, a true embarrassment to gay men everywhere; Alex's words, standing in front of the friendliest and only receptionist I've ever seen.

"Mr Storm will see you now cutie, go right ahead, it's the only office on the twelfth floor." She chirps happily, her long earings jingling as she ruffles my hair.

I walk as slowly as possible towards the elevator, trying to talk myself out of this. Shit, if he has the town mayor under his payroll and such a big oil mining empire, not to mention a place that sells fresh muffins for two quaters he can buy eight of my lives! What the hell am I doing here.

"Urgh" I exclaim thrusting my head towards the elevator door, deciding to finally bash my head into pieces and run like hell. Because its me and my fucked up life though, the elavator decides to open and I fall through the door and into the fanciest office in history of fancy offices, face first onto the floor.

"Shit, are you okay?" A deep dreemy voice laced with what sounds suspiciously like humor resonates,a big gentle hand touching my shoulder inquiringly. I lift my eyes and my head, eyes widening as I find the hottest, sexiest man I have ever seen looking into my plain black eyes with green gorgeous ones. His warm hands find his way to my forehead, gentle smile on his face as he gently touches the bump in my head and helps me up.

Speechless.

Any plans I had for giving him a piece of my mind left mind that very day, because the only thing I gave him was my body and soul. Yes, I was undressing an hour after I met my now husband.

The next day at the festival, no one came to my stall, but no worries, I was too busy kissing my hot former rival under my empty tent to care. A piece of my mind he would get later on, if I can't convince him, I'll make him some cookies, but I'll put a little bit of sugar and lots of poison too.

Besides, he has billions under insurance, and I'm the main benefactor.