A T I Y A

Atiya shivered as she stepped out of the autumn air and into the lobby of the thirty-story skyscraper. She wished she could pull her coat closer to her body, but the large white box in her hand made it impossible for her to do anything. As she crossed the tiled floor, she blew loose curls of hair in front of her face. Why did she decide to wear it?

That's right. Because she was late. It took him forever to get a taxi. It is normal that a ten-minute drive to anywhere else is thirty minutes in New York. Even though she moved here over six months ago, she always seems to forget about this gift.

Hopefully Detty won't be disappointed in her. After all, her best friend brought her this job. She said it is difficult to convince customers to agree to a bakery that has only been open for five months. There was no way Atiya could blow this up.

She sighed and blew a strand of hair tickling her lips. It floated in the air and landed on her face. She stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the up button with her hip.

"Ma'am. Miss, what can I do for you?" The janitor who was too busy putting a well-dressed woman in a limo had turned and stood beside her with a stern expression.

Atiya smiled. "I'm sorry. It's heavy and I can wait."

The doorman raised an eyebrow. "And where do you pick up this heavy load?" He looked at the box.

Atiya moves, balancing on one arm. When she grabbed the piece of paper with the customer's name on it, the box overturned. His hand flew to catch it, but it was too late. She felt all the perfectly frosted cupcakes slide aside.

Sweat beaded her forehead and she stepped back. She could only imagine what the icy layer looked like now.

"I-something Sc-scottish?" she tried. Why can't she remember his name? All Detty said was the guy was drunk. Like, twelve rich zeros.

The doorman glanced at him. "Aquila Scott?"

Atiya nodded. "Yes. He is the guy."

The elevator chirped and the doors opened. Grateful for interrupting, Atiya entered.

"Well, nice to talk to you," she said, turning around and poring over the buttons. There was no way she could push either of them. Fortunately, the doorman understood his situation and bent down.

"You go to the third floor," he said, pressing the button and straightening up, leaving the door closed.

Atiya smiled at him as he disappeared. Now alone in the elevator, she sighed. When she moved here, she never realized how cruel New York's bakeries could be. Coming from a small town, she is very spoiled. It's another world at home where everyone knows each other.

Luckily, Detty threw her that bone. Right now, she will accept any job. Even if it's for a rich man.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing a small hallway. She stepped out onto the cream-colored carpet. It was expensive, even under her.

There is only one door in the back. She went there. Not knowing what to do, she tapped the wood with her shoe.

Nothing.

Glancing around, she saw a bright bell. She leaned the box against the wall so she could reach and press it.

After a few seconds, a man in a formal suit opened the door. He is older – about fifty years old. He looked at her and then his eyes fell on the box in his hand.

"Yes?" He asks.

Atiya swallowed. Just from there and her confidence was gone. "Aquila Scott ?"

The man pursed his lips. "I'm Ceasar, Mr. Scott 's butler." His gaze drifted over to hers again. "You are?"

"I have cupcakes delivered." She nodded towards the box.

"You're late," he said as he pushed open the door.

She entered the grand foyer. Marble floors. The ceiling is higher than his bakery and taller than his apartment combined. Right in front of her were large windows where the lights of New York shone into the setting sun.

"I know. I'm sorry," she said, turning to face him.

Ceasar closed the door. Scott doesn't like the people he hires to be late. It's not good to see you walk in here when his guests have arrived. He nodded at the crowd that was gathering in groups around the room.

A banner hangs on the wall with the words: Happy Birthday Aquila! Gary Homg's hoarse voice came through the speakers. Atiya would never have guessed it was a party. It was like a wake-up call to how depressed people looked even though they were wearing suits and floor length dresses.

"Looks like I ruined the party," she muttered as she followed Ceasar .

He clears his throat as if to indicate that he has heard her, but will not explain it with a comment. Atiya exhaled slowly. No need to get fired from your first restaurant job here in town. Though the idea of serving the rich gave him goosebumps.

Ceasar stopped in front of a swinging door. "The kitchen is in there. Hope you know your way. We'll be singing happy birthday in 30 minutes. The cupcakes will be ready after that. He stopped himself. "Do you think you can handle this?" he asked, giving her a sharp look.

Atiya bit her tongue to say what she really thought. "Of course," she said, trying to stifle some excitement into her voice.

He took one last look at her and then turned to leave her.

She mumbled under her breath. She should have known she shouldn't have taken the job. Rich people are all the same. Always thinking about myself.

"Typical rich man," she said, shaking her head and pushing into the kitchen. As she looked around the room, she nearly dropped the cupcakes.

The kitchen is huge. Large granite countertops rest on pure white cabinets that run across the walls. A large island sits in the center. She exhaled as she stepped across the tiled floor.

"My God," she whispered as she passed the stainless steel two-door refrigerator. "It's the kitchen."

As she passed the refrigerator, a man in a suit appeared beside her. She screamed and the box in her hand fell over. She panicked and rushed to save him.

"Wow," the man said reaching out and grabbing it.

He turned and placed the box on the counter. When the cupcakes were finally safe, Atiya let herself swallow. His heart is beating. Partly because he had just scared her. The other part was because one of the most handsome men she had ever seen had his hands outstretched and his fingers just inches from his skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked, bending down to meet her gaze. His dark eyes and half-smile confused his senses.

"Yes," she whispered. Then she cleared her throat. Why is she whispering? Was she scared to make this perfect man scared? "Correct." She tried it again, hoping it sounded more confident.

This time his smile was wider, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. She looked up to meet him. She really needed to stop staring at his body parts.

He patted her shoulder. "Sorry to scare you," he let go of her hand and walked toward the island. He sat down on one of the stools pulled aside.

She tried not to stare at him as she walked to the sink. "So you work for Detty?" Dude, why does she look like an idiot?

He looked at her. He tapped his finger on the counter. As if he needed something to do. His hand moved to a container on the counter, where he reached out and began filling the side dish with bruschetta-covered baguettes. He smiled at her.

"Where is she?" Atiya asked as she tied her strawberry blonde hair into a ponytail and washed her hands. After they were clean, she walked over to the box and opened it. She grimaced. Half of the cupcakes had crushed ice. The other half looks fine. Glancing around, her mind raced. She had to quickly find a solution.

"She said she had to go get another box," he said.

Atiya laughed. "Typical Detty." She will forget her head if it is not attached to her.

The man laughed again. "How many cupcakes are there?" he asked, pointing to the box.

She started to spread the cake. "About half." Then she bent over him. "Don't tell the butler. He'll kick me out of the building faster than a sneeze."