“Okay. That’s good. I was worried there for a second.” Daphne sheds her thin cardigan and hops lithely up onto the bar top. I finally notice her outfit; she’s dressed in a pair of pale yellow jeans and a light-gray shirt with Buttercream and Booze in silver and blue letters across her chest.

“Oh my God! The shirts came in!” My volume is far too loud for the early hour, but my excitement cannot be contained. “I need to take a picture.” I pat my hips, but my phone is in my purse, which is sitting on the table where I left it. I raise a single finger. “Hold on! I need my phone. Or maybe I should get the good camera. And we need a cupcake. Actually, we should stage a bunch of photos.”

“Blaire.” Daphne grabs my wrist. “Take a breath or six and chill the eff out.”

“But we need a picture. One for our Instagram. Oh! We should host a T-shirt giveaway!”

“Done and done. I posted half an hour ago and it’s already in our stories and on our Facebook page and posted to the website. Social media managed.” She says the last part with a British accent, mimicking “mischief managed” from Harry Potter. We’re both huge fans. Sometimes we have weekend movie marathons despite having seen the films quite literally a hundred times. Don’t judge. There are worse addictions.

Daphne is a photographer and has her own business a couple of blocks down. She opened her studio last year and I was right there with her, helping in whatever way I could. Unlike B&B, her place didn’t need too much work, but I was there with a paintbrush and moral support. I even brought the Cupcakes to Go! truck on opening day to help entice new clients with sweet treats.

Daphne’s actually the person who told me about this place. She’s also been kind enough to help get all of my social media up and running. Currently, I pay her in cupcakes since I can’t afford much else in the way of compensation. She’s assured me this is a great addition to her portfolio and if Buttercream and Booze takes off she’ll most definitely benefit. I squeeze her hand. “You are so amazing.”

“I know. It’s one of the many reasons I’m your bestie.” She winks. “Now open the damn box so we can get excited about something else and you can freak out about more potential Insta posts.”

“Right! Yes!” I take one of those deep breaths Daphne suggested because I’m speaking like I’ve mainlined cocaine after drinking seventeen Red Bulls and everything I say is punctuated with an exclamation mark. “Calming myself before I get more excited,” I mutter as I open the flaps. That calm lasts about a quarter of a second and then I’m back to excited freak-out.

“They are so much fun!” I gently free one of the unicorn martini glasses from the box. “Aren’t they the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?”

“They are absolutely the most adorable things I have seen.” Daphne bites her lip, obviously fighting laughter.

“Well, I think they’re perfect.” I can already imagine the specialty martini and the cupcakes I’ll make to go with them. The glasses were a little expensive, and slightly outside of my budget, but they’re so much fun and they’ll look amazing in photos for social media posts.

“I wholeheartedly agree. You should display a few up there.” She motions to the shelf adjacent to the bar that showcases a row of candy-inspired martini glasses.

“Ohhh! Great idea!” I carefully free two more unicorn glasses from the box and round the counter.

Daphne hops down off the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

I mm-hmm, too consumed with rearranging the shelf to be concerned with where Daphne is going.

Daphne returns as I finish positioning the glassware. She’s grinning and her hands are clasped behind her back. “Close your eyes.”

I slam my lids together. “They’re closed.”

“Arms up.”

I raise them over my head and Daphne laughs. “Just to the side, like you’re halfway into a jumping jack.”

I lower them so they’re out in a T. “Oh my God. What do you have? What came?”

“Stop jumping around and you’ll find out.”

I didn’t even realize I was bouncing with excitement. I still and wait while Daphne drapes something over my head. When she ties it at my waist behind my back I start bouncing again. “It’s my apron, isn’t it?”

“Stop moving and don’t you dare peek.” She smacks my butt.

“Ow!”

“It was a tap, you sucky baby.”

“It was unexpected.” And the most action I’ve had in a long time. Opening one’s own business means I have very little time for anything but work, more work, and limited sleep.

“Eyes closed until I tell you.” She takes me by the shoulders and pushes me forward. “Okay. You can open them.”

I pry one lid open, and then the other. Daphne has moved me to the center of the café, where a massive mirror with the Buttercream and Booze decal hangs from the wall. I’m off to the right, so I can see my brand new apron without the obstruction of opaque letters cutting through it.

My hands start flapping without my permission, so I ball them into fists and hide them behind my back for a moment while I search for some calm. “It’s just so perfect, isn’t it?” I’m halfway to tears, I’m so elated.

But then, that’s what this place reduces me to: tears and excitement. I’ve worked my tushy off to get here.

“It is.” Daphne, being the awesome friend that she is, hands me a tissue before I even have to ask. “You’ve come a long way from weekend markets and a cupcake truck.”

I survey the product of all my hard work. “It’s been a journey, hasn’t it?”

“An uphill battle to the top of cupcake mountain, really,” Daphne agrees.

“I’d rather take the hard road than compromise my dream.” I run my fingertips over the letters that spell out Buttercream and Booze. My phone chimes from inside my purse, signaling a call. The ringtone, which is “The Addams Family” theme song, means it’s my mother.

Daphne and I look at my purse and then each other. “I’m letting that go to voicemail. I one hundred percent guarantee my mom is calling to try to argue my dad’s case.”

Daphne sighs. “They really don’t get it, do they?”