Bad Boy Baker – Chapter One

Hey guys, my name is Marilyn or marilynwritesalot according to Wattpad and this is my first ever Wattpad Block Party!

Okay that was lame, let's try again.

"Hey!" You called after the newest member of the Wattpad Block Party, the sight of her curly ebony hair was your prime focus as she made her way to the elevator.

"What floor?" You asked as you caught up with her, gesturing towards the numerical elevator key pad.

"214," she said, causing you to nearly stagger back at the softness her voice held.

She was going to Kelly Blount's floor, it must be her day, you thought.

"What your name?" Glancing over at the relevantly tall, young adult that stood before you.

"Marilyn," she said, a warm smile curved its way onto her delicate full lips. "The name's Marilyn."

"Nice to meet you, Marilyn," you said, unable to fight your own smile. "I'm, (insert name)."

"Pleasure is all mine, (insert name)," Marilyn said, her big brown eyes gleaming under the bright sunlight on this breathtaking Monday morning.

The elevator fell silent, the faint sounding of the ding as the lift ascended upwards until finally stopping at 214.

"Oh," She glanced back as she stood one foot in and one foot out of the elevator. "Welcome to my post."

me on the inside:     

HELLO AGAIN!

Anyway, anywho, anyhow, since we're done stating the obvious, on to the cool facts.

Alright, I'm lying, I have no cool facts. I'm just a girl who chooses to write on the weekends instead of going out. (lame, I know)

Even though I started writing on Wattpad roughly about a good six months or so ago, I've been reading on here for about two years. Wattpad has taught me A L O T, but I think the most important thing I've learned was that we all have imperfections.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I was naive enough to truly believe that anyone was perfect, but Wattpad honestly opened my eyes to that we indeed are not.

Everyone has flaws.

You could be the best damn writer in the world, but that doesn't mean you won't mess up. You could be the best cook in the world, but that doesn't mean you won't screw up a recipe once in awhile, but that's the beauty of life. Everyone screws up. 

After practically stressing myself out about what I should write for two weeks, I finally came upon an ultimatum. Below you have, all three of my stories, 'Anonymous', 'Reforming Blake Ryder', and "The Girl Who Dared" combined into one EPIC crossover

HA, JUST KIDDING :)

Although, I am still doing the crossover, I'm not doing it in here due to my own personal reason. BUT haveth no fear, Marilyn still got you guys.

Below you have the first chapter of my newest book 'Bad Boy Baker.'

*This book steers away from my usual teen-romance route and into the contemporary adult romance world.*

THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING. I absolutely don't have any time for this.

The grand opening of Daisy & Dukes is today and guess what? I'm about to miss it.

Shit. I'm about to miss my own grand opening.

I stared at the empty carousel as it slowly spun, groaning in protest with every movement. I'd glared at it for 20 minutes, and my bag still wasn't there. Glancing at my watch, I groaned, knowing I had to be up early in the morning for the grand opening, but, me being me, I thought it was best to take the last morning flight out. The check the relator needed and the new designs were in my suitcase.

In other words, I was completely screwed if my bag didn't come through.

I turned on my heel and scoured the area for a customer service kiosk. The airport wasn't as busy as I expected, which was a plus. I spotted the desk and headed in that direction.

Throwing my carry-on bag over my shoulder, I trudged down the walkway cursing myself for not keeping my files on me.

I finally reached the customer service counter and stood behind a gentleman speaking to the attendant.

"Can I help you?" the older employee greeted me as soon as the previous man walked away.
"Hi," I said, impatiently. "My luggage didn't come through the conveyor." I pointed to the right, toward where my bag was supposed to come out at.

He turned his head and nodded in agreement as he stared at the empty carousel.

"Everything I need is in that suitcase," I groaned. "I'm here on business, and I'm about to be late for a grand opening."

"Just fill these forms out," the airline attendant instructed as he handed me a clipboard of paperwork. "I apologize, ma'am. These things happen sometimes. Just leave all your information and we'll deliver the luggage to your hotel. It's typically within twenty-four hours."

"Twenty-four hours?" I repeated in an incredulous tone. "I don't have 24 hours. My grand opening is in an hour!"

"Just leave all your information and we'll deliver the luggage to your hotel," he restated a sad smile on his face.

No. I didn't need his pity, I needed him to do his freaking job.

"Thanks for nothing," I muttered under my breath before I took the clipboard out of his hand and stared at the sheet of questions. I completed the information without speaking the clerk.

As I was walking to hail a cab, my phone buzzed and I was afraid to look to see who was messaging me. Even though I had a seeping suspicion I knew exactly who it was, I wasn't exactly up for talking to Andre with right. He didn't need me, he's more than capable of holding down the fort until I got there.

He always has been.

Andre Delanoé has been my right-hand man for god knows how long, and been by my side for even longer. Now that I think about it, I don't think I know of a time where I haven't been with Andre.

I was right. It was Andre and I could already picture him running around the store, basically having a meltdown trying to get everything together.

Andre: where the hell are u?

A silent laughter bubbled inside of me as my fingers typed to respond.

Me: hold your horses I know you miss me and all but I'm still at the airport.
Andre: miss you? please, gag me. how the hell does Daisy of Daisy & Dukes miss her own opening?

I rolled my eyes as I locked and placed my phone into my handbag. I rose my hand and signaled for a cab and not even two seconds later, a yellow cab appeared right in front of me.

Thirty minutes and about a hundred missed phone calls later, the cabbie parked on the side entrance to my store.

Daisy & Dukes. The light pink sign beamed out, and immediately, I was content with the fact that I listened to my mom's advice on choosing the color.

I clutched my handbag tight and took a deep breath, reeling over the fact that I did it.

I actually opened my own fucking shop.

A grin plastered its way across my face as I spotted Andre walking towards the cab. He was a sight as he strutted toward me with his indie half frame, horned rim vintage sunglasses and perfectly styled hair. I almost giggled at his attire—denim skinny jeans, rolled at the cuff, with a turquoise polo, popped collar included.

"This your store?" The cabbie asked, causing me to relocate my attention on him. He was old enough to be my grandfather, but he had a soothing aura about him that made the cab ride more calm, more...peaceful. "You look awfully young."

"Yes," I sighed, a sweet smile playing on my face as I glanced up at my store. It wasn't much but it was mine and that's all that mattered. "This is my store."

"Congratulations," the cabbie said in awe. "I'll be sure to bring my daughter around here," he snorted. "Ever since she's been pregnant, she's had a craving for sweets like the Cookie Monster."

"Thank you, sir," I said to the cabbie, handing him the money I owed for the ride. "And congratulations to you, too. On your grandchild, I mean."

"Oh, darling," A rumble erupted from him, his shoulders moving up and down as he laughed. "I have a handful of little grandchildren running around, some even around your age. The name's Mike Villette but you can call me Big Mike. If you ever get into some trouble, just say you know Big Mike, you hear?"

"Yes." I smiled and nodded. "I hear. Thank you, Big Mike."

"Welcome to New York and good luck out there, darlin'," he drawled out the word of endearment, making me aware of the southern accent I didn't catch earlier.

My eyebrows furrowed slightly but I didn't say anything as I exited the car. I was too anxious to flip that closed sign to open and ring up my first customer to care.

I was on cloud nine, and I was loving every minute of it.

"There's my sweet cake," Andre said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm so glad to see you!" I squealed as I pulled away and looked him over. "You're looking ravishing."

"It's nerdy chic. Don't you love it?" He popped his hip and offered a side-snap. I countered with a giggle.

"Of course I love it! I've missed you." A sigh rolled past my lips as I looped my arm through his.

"You know, I hate to be a Debby downer and all," he paused. "But to be a Debby downer, Cruella de Vil is over there and she's not looking for dogs if you catch my drift. You do have the check, right?"

And there goes my short lived happiness.

Great, just great. He was talking about Jennifer Bright, or as we like to call her, Cruella de Vil. She's been pestering my every move since she had a fit when my dog licked her face in college – hence, where Cruella de Vil came from – and it was just my luck once I found out she was also the realtor that was in charge of handling the deals on this venue.

"Yes and no," I trailed off, feeling face my face warm and my heart pumble into my gut.

"You're kidding." He barked out a laugh, but his laughter immediately died once he saw I didn't join in. "Please tell me you're joking."

Silence.

"What the hell do you mean?" He whisper- yelled, grabbing ahold of my arm lightly as he guided me towards the trash cans that were located in the back of the store. "It's your grand opening!"

"Don't you think I know that?" My voice cracked at the end, causing his face to soften. "Believe me, I know."

"You know what? Screw, Cruella." He remarked, crossing his arms across his chest, causing my lips to twitch but I bit the inside of my cheek to keep me from smiling. "When did they say you'll have it back?"

"The attendant said I should have it in twenty-four hours," I said hopefully. "It never came through the carousel."

I heard him let out a string of curse words in Spanish before he finally ran a frustrated hand down his face. "So what're we going to do?"

Before I had the pleasure of answering, someone beat me to the punch.

"I can help."

***********

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