An email from the Billionaire

nickname to the entire street. I quickly stopped whipping my new frosting recipe, afraid someone will connect that name to me and ask about it. Admit it, this co

omething monumental was going to happen from the silence of the customers that were spread evenly on our five tables of our bakery 'Sweet Gum Tree' (they are busy eating or scorching the newspaper or drilling their eyes in their phone. But that's not the point. Again, go with the flow). The sun was almost reached its zenith. You can almost feel an eagle gliding in the sky readying to catch its prey, the sweat that's trickling down from your temple, the tension in the air, the rapid bear of your heartbeat...well, not exactly, but around those lines. And there I was standing clueless, sending silly friendly smiles to the customer who cannot decide between chocolate peanut butter cupcake or mint chocolate one. If I was in her place, I would say pack them both. Come on people, it's chocolate! You need to think about that too? So, where was I? Right...there I was smiling, not knowing what was in the store for me that day. Before we go any further, a quick history lesson is necessary here. My great-great-grandmother started our bakery 'Sweet Gum Tree' at the time of World War I. It was said that her husband, my great-great-grandfather, was a soldier who promised her under the sweet gum tree that he will return soon before joining the forces. Alas, he never fulfilled the promise. By that time, she was already expecting my great-grandmother. Realising the situation she was in- a single woman with a child on the way, my great-great-grandmother started selling her baked goods. And that was the time she decided that no woman of her family must face the difficulties she faced. So, she made my great-grandmother promise her to give this bakery to her daughter and her daughter to her next female kin and so on. In short, only to the fema