50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

Chapter Three

    At his suggestion, though, Destiny shook her head. "I'm not going to hound the man for an interview," she replied.

    Everyone protested at her response.

   Jasmine held a hand up. She turned to Destiny. "You don't have to hound him, but it's worth asking."

    "I doubt he's even going to show up back at the bakery," Destiny said. "It was probably a one-time thing. At his caliber, he probably travels with his own personal chef."

    "Now you're just talking crazy," Jasmine said, laughing. "Just casually ask him if he'd be willing to give an interview. If he says no, then back off. He could say yes."

    "If he even comes back in," Destiny added. "Which is a huge if."

    Jasmine tilted her head forward in agreement. "You could be right."

    "She's not even going to ask him." One of the new journalists shoved her way to the front of the crowd of writers and editors. She was a girl with short, salon-styled hair and a chip on her shoulder. "Let me go to the bakery tomorrow and ask."

    "Easy, grasshopper," Jasmine cautioned. "Destiny got the chance to talk to him. She already has established a rapport with him. So Destiny has dibs on this." She turned and arched a glance at Destiny.

    Destiny said, "Fine. I'll ask him."

    The crowd of journalists dispersed and went about their business, but Destiny was now the talk of the office.

~~~~~~

    The next morning, Destiny was running late. She'd had a tough time falling asleep the previous evening. She felt anxious, stressing about whether or not Aubrey Drake Graham would return to the bakery. The feeling was foreign to her. She wasn't easily intimidated. She'd grown up in a family where everyone spoke their minds freely. Facts weren't often sugarcoated in her household. Being raised this way had instilled in her the ability to freely communicate her opinions without fear of judgment, and yet...there was something about Aubrey that did intimidate her. The thought of asking him for an interview made her nervous. Nervousness wasn't something she was used to. Her fantasies had only added to that feeling of anxiety, as they were filled with images of the good-looking bachelor.

    She showered and dressed as quickly as she could, but took a little extra time fixing her hair in the mirror. She wanted to show up to work on time if at all possible, but that didn't mean she had to show up looking like a street urchin, especially considering the young gentleman who might be in attendance.

    She smoothed down her plain, white button-down shirt and khakis, which was the unofficial "uniform" for work. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and keys, and left the apartment.

    When she showed up to the bakery, she wasn't surprised to find a few of her fellow journalists staking out the place. She recognized one of the journalists seated in his car outside of the bakery. He was scanning the parking lot, most likely looking for anyone who halfway fit Aubrey's physical description. A few other journalists were seated at tables in the bakery, casually eating their breakfasts but keeping their eyes sharp.

    Destiny greeted them on her way to the back room. She clocked in for work, placed her purse in her assigned locker, and tied an apron around her waist.

    Carlos was hard at work, molding pastries.

    She peered over his shoulder to inspect his work. "Good job," she commended, clapping him on the shoulder.

    "Aren't you the talk of the place today?" Carlos asked as he rolled a croissant. 

    "What do you mean?" she asked, having a feeling she knew exactly what he meant.

    Carlos turned to face her, giving her a knowing look. "Aubrey Drake Graham came in this morning."

    Her face flushed. "What does that have to do with me?" she asked, busying herself with retying an apron that didn't need to be retied.

    "He asked for you," Carlos said, smiling and crossing his arms over his chest.

    "Why would he ask for me?"

    "You tell me," he said with raised brows.

    She avoided her gaze and told him, "I don't know. He made an order, just like any other customer."

    "Well he likes something about you, mami," Carlos said, "because when I told him you weren't here, he turned right around and walked out the door. He didn't want anything to do with Eli's Bakery if you weren't here."

    Her heart pounded in her chest as Carlos turned his attention back to his pastries. Why would he ask for me? she thought to herself. I didn't do anything special yesterday. I definitely didn't look special yesterday. I looked a hot mess. She returned to the front of the bakery, and positioned herself behind the cash register. She worked on autopilot for her entire shift. An hour or two after sticking around the bakery, the journalists who were staking out the place left. For some reason, she felt better once they left. During their time there, she could feel their eyes on her, knew they were whispering and wondering why, out of all of them, she was the one to have gotten the chance to meet Aubrey Graham.

    Her work day was uneventful. Aubrey didn't return to the bakery, and she didn't catch any other Hilltop columnists casing the joint. She finished her shift, attended her classes, made a quick stop by the newsroom, and headed home.

    She stepped into her bedroom and collapsed face-first on her bed, still exhausted from not getting a good night's sleep the evening before. Her eyes fluttered closed and the last thought on her mind was, Will I ever get to see Aubrey Graham in person again?