“WOW. NOW, THAT’S a penis.”
Humming as she gave said penis a careful inspection, Vivian Harris finally straightened and offered a satisfied smile.
“It does look good, doesn’t it?” Noting it was a smidge uneven, she sprinkled a hint more glitter on the right side to bring out the curve. “I think it might be my best work yet.”
“Absolutely, amazingly edible,” Minna Karter said, her brown eyes as round as her glasses. When she wet her lips, looking as if she wanted to kneel down and give it a good lick, Vivian quickly grabbed a hot pink lid and fitted it in place.
“Your favorite triple-chocolate fudge cake layered with Bavarian cream and covered in modeling chocolate.” Vivian put a snappy black bow on the box, adding the darling bakery sticker she’d printed on her inkjet claiming the confection was made with love at The Sweet Spot. “Guaranteed to keep your bridal shower guests happy.”
“They’re going to love it, Viv. I am blown away at how great this looks. I’ll bet nobody’s ever seen one this gorgeous.”
“A cake, or a penis?”
“Tough choice,” Minna said, laughing, “but I meant the cake. You’re really rocking this new sideline of yours. I mean, I’d have ordered a cake from Little Creek Bakery no matter what, since it’s your family’s. But...”
“But they only make regular, boring, round—or if they’re really wild, square—cakes here,” Vivian agreed with a nod. “I’ve been asking them for years to branch out, to widen the offerings, but noooo.”
She rolled her eyes at her family’s narrow-minded refusal.
“Which would be why I’m picking this up after-hours when nobody else is around?”
“It wouldn’t have been a big deal.” At Minna’s pointed stare, Vivian admitted, “My parents are out of town for the week so I’m in charge of the bakery. I was able to bake and decorate it here instead of at home.”
“You’d think they’d be a little more open to expanding their offerings.”
“Not everyone likes the idea of their only daughter molding phallic symbols out of cake.”
“You do more than that,” Minna objected. “You made that pair of songbirds for Lana’s birthday, you did the mermaid for Josie’s daughter, and you even did that Harley for your brother’s birthday. Never mind all the other cakes and confections you’re selling off your website.”
Minna shook a chastising finger before Vivian could shrug that off—and since by her calculations, she wasn’t yet earning half what she’d need to support herself, it really was shrugworthy.
“You’re living the dream, remember,” Minna reminded her in fervent tones.
Vivian had discovered a series of books called Living the Dream! written by Lola Bean. They focused on arranging wishes, hopes and goals into definable dreams and had inspired her like crazy. She’d read all of the books, then worked through the quizzes, study guides and questionnaires, narrowing down random ideas and what ifs into actual life goals built on a dream that touched her heart.
Vivian considered herself an artist. One who honored sexuality and the human form. But she couldn’t draw or paint, and try as she might, she couldn’t write a decent story. So, through Lola’s first course, “Finding the Dream that Makes You Sing,” she’d combined her two talents, sensual art and baking, and created The Sweet Spot.
As Lola so often said, with the power of that much emotion behind her dreams, how could she fail to build her dream life? And she was right. It’d given Vivian focus for the first time in twenty-four years. A sense of empowerment and excitement over building her dream career.
What it hadn’t done was actually give her that career.
Yet.
Vivian wasn’t giving up, though.
After reading through the entire booklist, joining Lola’s newsletter and finding her on social media, Vivian had been thrilled when the woman had opened group coaching. She’d convinced Minna, their friend Lisa and Lisa’s sister, Corinne, to do the coaching with her and, wow, talk about results.
Thanks to Lola’s advice, after six years of dating, Minna was finally marrying the man of her dreams. Lisa had gone back to school to get her degree and Corinne—well, Corinne’s dreams kept changing. She wasn’t quite the dream success story, which was fine with Vivian since it made her own mediocre success look better.
“Don’t look so bummed,” Minna chided, obviously reading her expression. “You’re great at what you do.”
As if to prove it, Minna whipped off the lid and showed off the penis again, complete with a sweep of one hand.
“It does look good, doesn’t it,” she murmured. “But I’m still not quite living the dream.”
Vivian’s goal was to be the go-to gal for sexy cakes and candies. She specialized in clever, sculpted, suggestive treats of all sorts. It didn’t have to be overt, like the sparkling penis. She loved getting that hint of sex across black lace formed from royal icing or leather from modeling chocolate. She’d created everything from an orgy of cupcakes to a madam’s cake—a four-layer devil’s food cake covered in black “leather” with red lace and sugar whips.
And while she was doing okay, she hadn’t quite found the key to success yet. She was pretty confident of her skills, and was sure her prices were right. And she’d built a great online store. It was just a matter of getting people to check it out and buy.
“Did you hear anything from that program you’d applied to?”
The program was an internship with one of the most respected dessert culinary programs in the country. If accepted, she’d be spending a year studying under Geoffrey of Decadence Desserts. Learning the ins and outs, not only of perfecting her dessert-making skills, but also business and marketing knowledge that’d help her build The Sweet Spot into the name in sensual treats.
The problem was, the internship took place in California. So it not only included moving away from her hometown, but leaving her comfy job working for the family bakery. Sure, she hated the tedious repetition of making the same desserts over and over. And she was so over her family’s disdain for her creative choices of sensual cake decor. But it was home and it was a job and, well, it was safe.
She’d been excited when she’d applied. All hopped up on one of Lola’s inspirational lessons on chasing the dream. But now? California meant giving up her comfort for a low-paying job living in a dorm with a bunch of strangers. Vivian just wasn’t sure it was worth it.
“No word yet,” was all she said, though.
“You’ll get there,” Minna assured her quietly as she covered the cake again. “You know Lola says you’re holding yourself back. You’re not fully committing.”
Vivian had to clench her teeth to keep from arguing. Not because she disagreed. But she’d argued this point so many times that she
