It was just a cake.

Finding a job in New York was not funny, and even less with a fake name and a fake background, but she couldn’t risk using her true name, and with that, she couldn’t work in her career. Baking used to be just a hobby, something she did with her mom and her grandma. She was good at it because of that, and now it was helping to pay the bills.

She was still a little wary about this “baking a cake for a complete stranger” thing, but, being honest, she needed the money and was in no position to reject this opportunity.

For the next couple of days, she continued texting with him about the cake. She was happy with how willing he was to accept the recommendations and suggestions she made, not all clients were like that. In the end, they narrowed it down to three options, so she offered him the chance to try them whenever he had time.

She didn’t know what he did for a living, but considering the amount of money he had given her for the cake and how wealthy he looked, she supposed he had an important job and not much free time.

She was surprised when he agreed to the appointment to taste the cakes and decide which one he wanted for the party.

She didn’t want a complete stranger to come to her apartment, so she suggested meeting him at a little coffee shop near the bakery where she had been fired a few days ago.

The day of the appointment came, and she was a little nervous. She didn’t know if it was because she was worried he wouldn’t like any of the options or because the man was imposing. And being honest with herself, he was handsome, with a charming smile.

She shook her head to snap back to her senses. A man like him should have a lot of girls behind him or even be married to some cute, model-type woman. And she was… well, she was just herself, a baker, running from her ex-boyfriend who had almost gotten her killed, and trying to find a decent job in this crazy city.

She made sure to look presentable, tying her hair in a high ponytail and wearing a sundress that perfectly covered the scars her relationship with Greg had left. She checked herself in the mirror one last time before leaving to meet Steve.

Steve was already there when she arrived, and she had arrived ten minutes early. She liked to be extra punctual, and it seemed he liked punctuality too.

She walked to where he was sitting, and he stood up to greet her.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me too long,” she said, a soft smile playing at her lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I just arrived.” He pulled out her chair for her to sit in front of him. “I took the liberty of ordering our coffees. I hope I chose correctly.”

Just then, the waitress arrived with the order, an American coffee for him and a vanilla latte for her.

She stared at the coffee in front of her. It was what she always ordered. A shiver ran down her spine, and she suppressed her surprise.

“You are being paranoid,” she told herself. “It’s a common coffee choice for women.”

“Thanks, Steve, you chose correctly,” she said, trying to sound calm, even if her stomach was in a knot. This situation left her feeling uneasy, like there was something in the back of her mind screaming at her to be careful, to leave the coffee shop. But she ignored it. Since Greg, she had become paranoid about everyone, and she thought this was just another case of that.

Steve smiled charmingly at her, and she felt her stomach flip inside. Every doubt disappeared in that moment.

She took out the box where she had brought the three slices of cake for him to taste and handed it to him.

“Here, vanilla, mocha, and chocolate,” she said, pointing to each slice of cake. “Let’s see if they fulfill your expectations.”

She was a little nervous. She knew she was good at baking, she had grown up doing it, but this was a huge opportunity for her to start making some extra money. Maybe people at the party would contact her if they liked the cake, and that could help her pay some bills.

She watched as Steve took the first bite of the vanilla cake, chewing it slowly. His face didn’t give away his opinion. Anxiety started bubbling up inside her. He did the same with the other two cakes, his face serious, as if deciding whether they were the worst cakes he had ever had or the best. By the time he finished the last bite and took a sip of his coffee, she was already anxious, holding her breath, waiting for him to talk.

“I must say, this exceeds my expectations.” Steve cracked a smile at her, and she sighed in relief. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. “I’m not a big fan of big, fancy bakery cakes, but this,” he pointed to the slices in front of him, “this tastes really good. Not too sweet, not tasteless, but balanced.”

“Oh, I didn’t use the bakery’s recipes,” she admitted with a prideful smile, pleased by Steve’s praise of her baking skills. “I used my own recipes, my family recipes.”

“That makes more sense.” Steve nodded. “So, being good with cakes is something that runs in your family?” The question seemed harmless, just curiosity.

“Yeah, kind of. My mom and my grandma loved to bake all the time, and I learned because of that,” she said, revealing just enough to not be impolite.

“And are you the only one who made a career out of it?”

“Well, right now, I’m making a career out of anything that pays the bills.” She made it sound like a joke, but inside, she wasn’t joking. She knew she needed to find a job.

“These cakes are delicious, sweetheart.” She felt her cheeks turn pink. She wasn’t used to so much praise. Greg never praised her about this or anything. In his eyes, she was never enough. So being praised by this handsome, almost-stranger man was something new and a little uncomfortable. “Tell you what… I want all three flavors, one cake of each.”

She watched as he took out more money to give her, and she shook her head.

“I can do the three cakes, but the money you gave me last time is more than enough.”

She saw how his face turned serious, almost predatory. The intensity of his gaze and his body language were too much for her not to crack.

“Thanks, Steve, I feel like I’m taking advantage of you by accepting this amount of money,” she sighed but accepted it. Again, the little voice in the back of her head screamed at her, warning her.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, this doesn’t scratch my bank account.” She had deduced that from the first time they met. There was something about him that screamed “powerful.” “I’m going to put in a good word for you with everyone at the party. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the next big baker in this city.”

The way he said that, with so much confidence, made her shiver. It was like he had a big plan for her without her knowing.

“Just stick to the right people, sweetheart,” his voice was low and husky. She didn’t know if that was a warning or a suggestion, but she was sure she didn’t want to find out.

“Thanks, that will help a lot.” She was a little scared, but at the same time, she felt excited. Maybe this was her chance to start over, forget about Greg, forget about her troubles, and have a good life.

After that, they talked about more trivial things. She told him where she came from and her backup story of why she was now in New York. Of course, she didn’t tell him the truth, that she was running from her abusive ex-boyfriend, who was a law enforcement officer with a lot of power. No, she told him the cliché story of chasing her dream in the big city, even if that wasn’t her dream at all.

He told her some things about himself. He was a businessman, owner of many companies around the city. He had grown up in Brooklyn with his best friend, who was more like a brother. With that, she understood why he didn’t blink an eye at the money, but that only led her to ask herself why he went to all this trouble just for a cake. She was sure that he could buy a whole bakery if he wanted, so why her? Why help her?

Whatever his reasons were, she didn’t want to think about it. This was something good, right?

They finished drinking their coffees, and, of course, Steve insisted on paying for hers. She only thanked him with a shy smile.

“I will take this with me,” he said, lifting the box with the remains of the cakes, and she nodded. “I will send a car to pick you up on Saturday for the cake delivery.”

She felt panic starting to rise inside her. He wanted her address.

“Calm down, it’s not like he knows Greg,” she reassured herself.

“I will send you my address,” her voice shook a little, but she hoped that he didn’t notice.

“Perfect. I will see you on Saturday,” Steve smiled cheekily. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

Her body relaxed when Steve left the coffee shop. She didn’t know why this man made her feel like that or if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she felt so nervous around him. The last time she had felt that nervous was when she started dating Greg, and that didn’t end well for her.

Greg and she had been together for four years. She was finishing her degree when they met, and he was the perfect man. He was polite, charming, charismatic, always taking care of her, always thoughtful… until Prince Charming became a monster, and she started living in hell on earth. It started slowly… some mean words here and there, not talking to her for days, screaming at her, pushing her. And then, one day, he hit her. The next thing she knew, he had almost killed her. That was when she decided enough was enough and ran to New York, seeking a normal life and a low profile, praying that Greg would never look for her again.