Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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I've been standing in the same spot for the past five minutes. Just standing and gaping. Why, you may ask?
Because Sierra's Sweets is full of customers.
And not in my terms, where three people are equivalent to a crowded Magic Mike live show. I mean there are asses planted in every booth I took the liberty of ordering myself when I first opened this place. There's an empty table at the back but aside from that, I have a full house. My very first since opening day three months ago.
I'm still not quite sure what finally did it. The gala was good for phone orders because some of the athletes wanted seconds and thirds (Travis wanted fourths) but I still wasn't getting walk-in customers. The carnival didn't do much either. All I got out of that was leery men that tracked down my Instagram and send message requests full of colourful language I'd rather not repeat. I haven't had a gig since so I really don't know where this overflow of customers suddenly came from.
"Sierra!"
I snap my mouth shut and turn to the front door when it dings open, raising a brow at Harper and Dani who come barreling in and head straight for me.
"Hi, guys." I blink at them, not expecting their company.
"Have you not been checking your phone?" Harper wheezes, out of breath. "I've been blowing it up, woman."
Right. My phone. I look around for it but can't seem to locate it. "I've had customers in and out for the past hour. I have no idea where it is."
"You're hopeless." Dani throws her hands in the air and turns to Harper. "She's hopeless, Harps."
"So many issues," Harper nods in agreement and I roll my eyes. "Don't you make that face at me. You'd be freaking out with us if you were keeping up online."
Freaking out? I eye her curiously. "What are you talking about?"
"SFPM tagged you on an Instagram post this morning. They're verified, Ser. 11.4 million followers. Your bakery account is blowing up with follows!"
My heart drops out of my ass like a spectacular dump. "Help me find my phone. Now."
Harper quickly rounds the corner and Dani just plain jumps over it like the freakishly bendy ninja she is. The three of us make our way to the back kitchen and split up. It's not a huge space but there are a hundred cabinets and I'm always misplacing my phone in one of them. A couple of minutes later I hear Harper shriek, "Found it!"
Dani and I bolt over to her. I grab the phone and put my thumb on the home button to unlock it. It takes three tries to get the app open because it keeps crashing on me. Harper rationally suggests I delete some files to make space. Dani asks if she can hurl the phone across the room. Luckily I don't need to do either because the app opens and when I go on my homepage, I find that I have 4.2K followers.
