Beyond Love

Competitor

Oh no. It's more strawberry shortcake.

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[Chip]

It didn't take Shea very long to narrow in on my main concern, stopping the cart to turn around and wave the anxiety off my face.

"Look, there wasn't any coordination whatsoever, so it's not like we didn't expect this," she lowered her voice and nudged my feet to move. "Strawberry shortcake's bound to be more than one bakery's specialty—but who gives a damn when we've got the best."

I laughed nervously. "Uhhuh, maybe that's what all of them are thinking too."

We wheeled the slices of shortcake over towards a fancy table with our bakery's name labelled by an acrylic card display with several assistants hurrying to catch up from behind. By the time all four carts arrived at our station, Shea and I had already started on the arrangements, mostly according to the mock-up that I had drawn the night before.

"More shortcake?"

I looked up to see a passing guest shake his head as he walked away, probably upset by the clashes of best-sellers. Meaning that they'd lose out on variety.

Mr. Dempsey must have it hard, then. It's almost impossible to prevent a repeat of best-selling pastries since only customers could determine the actual product from sales and all participants are likely to bring their best and nothing else. Choosing to bring along their second best just because another patisserie shared the same best-selling item would only put them at a disadvantage.

"Is that strawberry shortcake?" I heard someone whisper from behind yet again and had turned away from my arrangement to see who it was.

A pastry chef with a nametag fastened to her apron was looking at our display with a curious eye. Her tag read: Cuppie's Cupcakes.

"Um, yes...they are."

"I love strawberry shortcake!" She piped, adjusting the huge pair of glasses that was sliding off the bridge of her nose. They reminded me of my own glasses. "I'm kinda lucky that two other bakeries are doing strawberry shortcakes too. That just means I get to eat more of them," she laughed, eyeing our cakes with a grin.

"R-really? But...so you're having shortcake too? But—isn't it bad that we clash?" I asked anxiously, peering over at the table of the pastry shop that she worked for. Or...was she the owner?

"I guess it might be, if you put it that way. But you know," the pastry chef looked towards the very first table of the row, which also displayed three whole strawberry shortcakes. "I like that I get the chance to taste strawberry shortcakes and learn something about them that I might not know yet, or be inspired by what they have. After all, isn't perfection a process and not an end in itself?"

She gazed up at me (just a little, we were both generally short) with a gleam in her eyes and I laughed.

"That's a good way to look at it," I sighed, admitting quietly. "Um, sorry about that. I-I was just a little nervous about everything. It's my first time here, you see...and I don't have a clue as to why I was invited at all."

"It's my first time too!" She gasped, lowering her voice. "Can we be friends? Do you know anyone else here? Do you think I'm asking too many questions? Gosh, I'm so scared."