The Sweetest Fix - Tessa Bailey Page 0,4

“Based on your accent, I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

“Wisconsin.”

“You got all the way to New York on a day’s notice and you’re just going to pack it up and go home to friggin’ Wisconsin? At the first sign of an obstacle?” He gestured to himself. “Do you know how many guys I had to beat out to land Pikachu?”

“Um…”

“None. Are you serious? That was a joke, honey. Here’s my point…” He shifted his stance. “When a door is closed in your face, you have to at least look for a side door. Or an emergency exit. Or a window. And try to get in.”

“That sounds a lot like breaking and entering.”

“That’s exactly what it is—and I should know. Breaking and entering is why I have to battle Captain America and a Smurf every morning for sidewalk space.”

Unbelievably, Reese had to fend off a laugh.

“There we go. Now you’re coming back from the dead,” he said, cuffing her lightly on the shoulder with his paw. “Don’t take what I’m saying literally. What I mean is, you have to find another way to get in front of the man. It’s easy to blow someone off over the phone, but face to face? Especially with a young kid like you? Not so easy.”

The lack of sleep was definitely beginning to creep up on Reese if the Pikachu’s words were carrying water. Where would she even begin trying to track down Bexley? In a city like this, he was a veritable needle in a haystack. Throw in the fact that he notoriously kept a low profile—

“Wait.” Her spine snapped straight and she started leafing through her bag. “On the way here, I was reading an article about him in Front and Center and he has…a son? Yes, a son. He owns a bakery or something. There was a quip made about him refusing to follow in his father’s footsteps…” She found the magazine and flipped to the dog-eared page. “Here it is. Bexley’s son, Leo, owns a bakery on the Upper West Side known for perfecting the classics.” She twisted her lips. “It doesn’t mention the name.”

“You have a phone, don’t you? Google it.”

“I will.” She fumbled for the device “I am. I really shouldn’t be doing this, tracking down Bexley’s son. It’s probably only going to piss him off.”

“Or he’ll respect your tenacity.”

“It’s not like he can blacklist me. I’ve never even been on the list in the first place. I mean, I really have nothing to lose at this point.”

“Now you’re thinking like a Times Square Pikachu.”

“The compliment of the century,” she muttered, making him laugh. “So what exactly am I doing here? Just breezing into the bakery and asking this stranger to give me an audience with his father? God, that’s so gross.”

“It won’t hurt to charm him a little.” He pinched his finger and thumb together. “Make him feel like a hero for helping you out.”

“That’s terrible advice. No. I’m going to walk in, be straightforward and hope for the best.” Her Google search yielded its results. “Okay, here it is.” She clicked on an article from Time Out titled “Whipping up Wonder on the UWS.” “Leo Bexley…ooh. It’s called The Cookie Jar. That’s pretty cute.” Reese stood and shouldered her bag. “I guess I better find somewhere to stay for the night first. Just in case it works out.”

They fist-bumped, knuckles to foam. “Break a leg, hon.”

“Thanks.” She shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this has been weird.”

“You’re welcome.”

A kid ran up asking for a picture and Link waved and turned away.

Reese looked down at the map on her phone, determining which way to walk and headed west, before cutting uptown at a brisk pace. In order to book a hotel room for the night, she would have to dip into what she called her Victory Fund. The bank account she and her mother added to occasionally, in case her dreams came true and she needed to move to New York on a dime. There wasn’t much saved, about enough to sublet a room for maybe a couple weeks before she started earning a paycheck.

But before she committed to that, she needed a miracle—and his name was Leo.

Chapter 3

Leo leaned an ear toward the swinging door separating the Cookie Jar’s main floor from the back room where he did all of baking. It was creeping up on dinnertime, which usually led to a lull in customers, during which he would finally emerge from