Sugar Rush Read Free

and with people possibly reading
this page now, Neve knew she couldn’t delete it and pretend it never happened.
    Worry caught in her throat. What if Gianna interpreted this
as Neve personally replying to her? What if she came to the shop? Neve took a
deep breath. No, Gianna knew better than that, given their acrimonious split.
It wasn’t as if “Sugar Rush” addressed her with a term of endearment, anyway.
Hopefully Gianna went with the possibility that an SEO firm handled the Facebook
page, and disappeared back into cyberspace.
    “Okay, enough of this.” She moved her mouse to log off when
a small chat window popped up on the corner of her screen. It wasn’t one of her
friends. Somebody must have searched for her personal profile—she listed
herself as the bakery’s owner there—and sent a private chat message. Neve
didn’t recognize anybody by the name of Judy Goldsmith.
    Nice post on the Sugar Rush page , it read, but I
have to ask—where’s the love for cats?
    Neve didn’t typically laugh out loud at anything on the
internet, but this Judy definitely surprised her. The message did well enough
to take her mind off Gianna. She moved her cursor toward the reply box,
deciding the jest proved worthy of a reward.
    Next time you’re at the shop, I’ll see what I can do.
    No sooner had she sent the message than Neve saw a
notification that Judy was typing another reply.
    I’ll do that, and bring friends.
    “Good. Bring lots of friends.” Now Neve had really
had enough of social media for one night and logged off. She spent the rest of
her evening unwinding in front of the TV, though the thought that business
might tank in the wake of this viral activity never left her. She fell asleep
in her recliner, fighting nightmares of an out-of-business sale. And a
confrontation with her unfaithful ex.
    She couldn’t decide which frightened her more.

Chapter Two
     
    Her phone cradled in her left palm, Judy chuckled as Neve’s
reply to her cat query popped up on the tiny screen. “I’ll do that,” she said
as she typed with her thumbs, “and bring friends.” One touch sent the short
note, and Judy scrolled the rest of her news feed for anything interesting
before logging off for the night.
    How nice to know a local business vocally supported the gay
community. Working in retail herself, Judy didn’t give a damn who her customers
dated or married, and it never crossed her mind to berate anybody for their
beliefs.
    If only others would follow the example of Sugar Rush, she
mused, recalling with bitterness the treatment she and her best friend,
Rachael, had received from other bakeries when they inquired about getting a
birthday cake.
    We don’t do fag cakes , sneered one particularly
odious man with flour-dusted hands. His accented baying still rang in Judy’s
ears days later. After the third refusal, Rachael had thrown up her hands and
said, “Fuck this. Call everybody and cancel.”
    Well, Sugar Rush would soon benefit from Judy’s sweet tooth.
And maybe Rachael would reconsider her birthday—
    A bleeping noise broke into her thoughts, alerting Judy to a
text. She opened the proper app to see the photo Rachael sent her. Following
the snapshot of the elfish young woman with multicolored hair, awash in body
glitter and sparkling bracelets, came a short rebuke. See what you’re
missing?
    Judy snorted. The photo showed Rachael in a green strapless
club dress, narrow chest puffed out to make her breasts look larger, sandwiched
between two baby butches. One sported a leather jacket and a Fonzie-style cut—Judy
tried to recall if Little Dude’s was hosting a theme party tonight. Not likely,
she decided. Regulars enjoyed dressing up for the hell of it.
    They’re not my type. You know that , she texted back.
Judy sighed and cursed herself. She should have waited until morning to reply,
she realized. She was tired and wanted to sleep, but now that Rachael knew she
hadn’t gone to bed yet, she’d text all