Mr. Money Bags

Is he crazy? was the first thought that crossed her mind as she entered through the door and made her way through the narrow aisle designed for a single person.

Glancing back with lingering questions about the charismatic man's mental health, she noticed his eyes examining the one-of-a-kind pastries displayed behind the glass that extended from the entrance to the cashier desk where customers had the option to place an order and proceed to the table section on the left, or make a purchase and exit through the same aisle leading to the backdoor.

He doesn't look crazy at all; in fact, when she stared at him for too long, he turned his eyes toward her and gave her a warm smile.

Turning her head back towards the desk, Natalie decided that he must not be aware of the snobbish way things worked around this upscale bakery. That would be the only explanation for how friendly he seemed instead of treating her like a competitor now.

Not my problem if he is clueless.

Customers who arrived first had the advantage of choosing, a crucial marketing strategy for the bakery that targeted wealthy housewives with super-rich egos. These customers were willing to pay extra to get that one-of-a-kind cake, just like the one-of-a-kind person buying them.

Suppressing a sarcastic snort at her inner dialogue, she fixed her eyes on the prize—the strange-tasting chestnut cake that held its regular place at the very end of the aisle right by the cashier desk where she would spend her last 100-dollar bill for the entire month.

"Better to spend it on cake than on another bottle of alcohol for him," she murmured to herself darkly then stole a glance up at the tall man walking closely behind her again. She changed her mind about him being a new customer since he never stopped to admire a particular cake. He obviously knew how things worked around this shop and had a cake in mind already.

Natalie drew in a long breath when both of them stopped by the empty cashier desk, waiting for the shop's manager to make an appearance.

Rich people surely could afford to smell the best.

"Thank goodness it's here," he mumbled with a sigh of relief from behind her.

While Mr. Moneybags was obviously talking to himself, Natalie's spirit sank fast. It couldn't be a mistake; he must be after the last cake behind the vitrine, the chestnut cake that her uncle favored for unknown reasons.

She hated the idea of arguing with what appeared to be a semi-decent human being over a cake, but if it came down to it, she would fight for her uncle's birthday gift. It was her right to choose any flavor she wanted as the first person to arrive at the coffee shop today; the amount of money each of them was worth had nothing to do with it.

"So, what cake are you here to buy?" came an overly enthusiastic question from beside her.

"..."

She couldn't afford to make small talk with her nicely perfumed enemy when there was a war on the horizon. Fortunately for Natalie, the manager finally opened the 'Employee Only' door behind the cashier's desk and then quickly sat down. But the situation stopped being a fortunate one when the woman winked and smiled up at Mr. Moneybags.

Great.

Natalie forced a smile at the shop's manager, cleared her throat to get the woman's attention, then spoke when the woman finally looked at her.

"Hello, I would like to buy the chestnut cake."

A frustrated groan behind Natalie told her that the man indeed had his eye on the same cake. Tough luck, Mr. Moneybags; you can't have everything you wish for in this life.