Flour.

“Cupcakes? Really?” She asked, scowl on her face as her friend nodded.

“Yup. Cupcakes.” Candace Pak, her best friend and business partner confirmed. “That are vanilla and go with the album cover.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” She groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t go to pastry school in another country and open up a bakery just to make vanilla cupcakes.” She crossed her arms over her chest as Candace rolled her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness. “Should I smoother them in edible glitter too?”

“They need 500 for Saturday.” Candace said and turned around and retreated back into her office. “Better start baking Sutton.”

Sutton Mitchel was one of the most popular pastry chefs in the country. She attended culinary school in France, graduated early and top of her class. She spent a year baking in upscale bakeries or restaurants in Europe before moving to New York City and spending a year at a famous bakery before opening up her own, Flour. In a short period of time, Flour was one of the most well-known bakeries in the country. Sutton had received tons of awards, magazine covers, features on the Food Network, and daytime talk show appearances. Some chefs dream of this level of success, but it was Sutton’s least favorite part of the job. She made it through every interview with huge smiles and samples of her most popular recipe (blueberry lemon bars). Sutton became well known as a young chef who took her classical French training and experimented with flavors and textures.

Sutton adored baking, she had since a young age when her mother would let her stir cake batter or decorate Christmas cookies. She never complained about the early mornings spent baking before the sunrise. She never complained about the late nights trying to keep up with the demands of her customers. Even the ones who desired five hundred vanilla cupcakes.

“I cannot believe you are complaining about an easy job.” Candace said, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

“I cannot believe,” Sutton began in a mocking tine. “that you don’t understand how insulting vanilla cupcakes are. Cupcakes are boring, and unoriginal. Vanilla is a basic flavor, that will be appreciated by everyone. Where’s the challenge?” Sutton complained, amplifying her dramatic attitude purely for her best friend’s entertainment.

“I literally hate you.” Candace said, rolling her eyes as Sutton smirked in satisfaction. “You are the most difficult person I have ever met. You make me want to rip my hair out and quit my job. Every single day.”

“You are my number one supporter. Always such a positive influence on my life.” Sutton said, returning to adding ingredients into a large standing mixer.

“I know, babes, I live to serve you.” Candace said with a roll of her eyes. “This gig is pretty important. It’s going to get you a great write up. It’s for some big time pop star. Your cupcakes are going to be all over Instagram and in those trashy celebrity magazines you can get at the grocery store check-out line.”

“Oh thank god.” Sutton mumbled, but Candace ignored her and continued to talk.

“I know you don’t care about any of that, please save your DIY-punk rock mentality lecture for someone else. But doing big events and getting good press gets more business, which means more money we can put into the scholarship fund and more girls who get to go to fancy pastry schools of their dreams. By selling out to the man, you get to create more Sutton Mitchel’s who will one day stand behind their own mixers and try to kill their best friends who are just trying to help keep their business successful.” Sutton just shrugged. “Also, I don’t understand what you have against edible glitter. It makes everything so fun.”

Sutton and Candace met four years ago, both working at the same bakery in New York. Sutton was a chef and Candace worked the retail front. They bonded fast, both extremely different except in their love of baked goods. Candace had just graduated from Columbia with a degree in economics and was looking for a job. Sutton had saved up enough money from her various jobs to put in an offer on an empty building space that would soon become Flour. She recruited Candace to help her, and for a year and a half, Flour was running completely by the two of them. Sutton created the menu and recipes all by herself. Candace was in charge of finances and promotion. It was only a few weeks of being open before they started seem mass amounts of people coming through each day, clearing out the shelves. Since opening, Flour bought the space next to them and knocked down the wall, to increase the size of their building and hired four baking assistants and two people to work the front of the bakery. Sutton was a control freak, and has a hard time letting things out of her hands when it comes to her business.

It a short period of time, Sutton and Candace have found more success than some bakeries see in their entire existences. At just twenty-five and twenty-six, the two friends had a long future in the restaurant industry.

“Candace, try my vanilla cupcake.” Sutton said, strutting into Candace’s office at 7:30 Friday morning. Candace slowly reached out and accepted the cupcake from her friend’s hand, inspecting it. It was a white cake with a thick layer of fluffy frosting,

“Sutton this is amazing.” Candace said, though it came out muffled by the cupcake in her mouth, which caused her friend to grin. “It’s not just vanilla though.” She said, looking at Sutton with a weary gaze.

“It’s vanilla,” Sutton began. “A vanilla cupcake, with a vanilla bourbon ganache filling and topped with a super light French meringue. I was also thinking about adding some little edible flowers and miniature macaroons on top of each cupcake.”

“It’s so good, I can’t even fight with you on it.” Candace said, going back for a second bite. “But these are for some big hot-shot pop star, do you think they’ll be mad if this is not exactly what they want? I don’t want the promotion company to slam us in reviews, that would be such a bummer for our brand.”

“Does it look like I care what the pop star wants?” Sutton asked, as her friend rolled her eyes. “I’m just here to enhance their pallets. They might not even be allowed to eat carbs and sugar anyways.”

“Let me pull up the confirmation email.” Candace said, turning around to face the large computer screen on her desk. She scrolled through her emails.

“You know I also made this fantastic vanilla and Amaretto buttercream that would be great with some a chocolate cake.”

“That’s definitely not a vanilla cupcake. You’re feeling so boozy today.” Candace said, not turning around. “Ah! Found it. Hello Flour Bakery and co., we are interested in ordering 500 cupcakes for an album release party of Harry Styles. We are celebrating the new album “Harry Styles” with a private concert in New York and an after party for esteemed guests including various celebrities, artists, journalists and publicists. Some background information on the artist; this is Harry Styles first solo endeavor after spending years in world-renowned pop band, One Direction. A small concert will be held in New York City, with an after party reception for guests and publicists. We would be honored to have our dessert catered by the famous Flour Bakery.”

“One Direction was huge when I was in France. They were on some reality show.” Sutton commented as Candace turned back around to face her. “I never had much time to keep up with that stuff though, I was pretty preoccupied with an abundance of men constantly insisting my baking was inferior to theirs.”

Candace let out a laugh. “We get it – this industry is male dominated and your true passion is smashing the patriarchy, one cake at a time.”

“Thank god somebody understands me.” Sutton sighed, reaching up and retying her hair up into a tight pony tail. “We’re going with these cupcakes, I already made four hundred.”

“Aye aye, captain” Candace said, making a note in her planner sitting open on her desk. “By the way, they requested you attend the party. So they take pictures of you with your cupcakes. I told them we’d be there and dressed well.”

Sutton let out a dramatic groan. “I think you want to kill me, Candie.”

“Obviously, that is always my intention.”