I hate Drake Hampton. No, I loathe him with singular ferocity that only his richer-than-God, pretentious face can ignite in me. I’ve worked hard for my bakery and if I get further pressure from his company to sell so they can build more of their lame-ass cookie-cutter apartments in my historic neighborhood, I will burn everything to the ground.
At least that’s the message I hope to send when I storm his office with a special gift in hand.
What I didn’t expect—was to find his office empty—or for him to show up at my shop to thank me personally. And most worryingly of all, I didn’t expect to want the man who has the power to completely break me.
Suddenly my bakery isn't the only thing I'm worried about losing.