“Right. As I was saying…”

She explained how adding this new product would affect their production line. It could mean decreased production of other cakes, that they needed a plan to transition existing machinery, that it might mean increased shifts for workers and the need to hire additional employees, that they might need new equipment entirely, and even an addition to the factory. No matter what or how they did it, it would mean more man-power and money.

Grant was nodding as she finished, and Aiden sat forward in his chair.

“That all makes sense to me,” Aiden said.

“Do you think we can draw up some projections?” Grant asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Great,” Aiden said. “Just let us know where we should start.”

Whitney lifted her brows. He was just going with it? She felt a moment of panic. They were just going to trust her completely? They didn’t have any questions? No concerns? No alternatives to offer?

“Unless I’m missing something,” she said.

She wasn’t. She’d sat in on meetings about production dozens of times. They’d never launched a new snack cake but they’d upped production on most of the cakes in their product line. They’d expanded to new markets and needed to meet that increased demand.

She’d always found the meetings pretty boring and wouldn’t have believed that she’d absorbed much knowledge from them, but it had all made sense. If you needed more cakes, for whatever reason, you needed to be sure you had the machines for it and the people to run those machines.

“I don’t think you’re missing anything,” Aiden told her. “We need a machine to produce the new cakes and we need more people. Seems easiest to use what we already have until we see what the demand is like.”

She nodded. It did. It was pretty straightforward.

“And I don’t think hiring will be a problem,” she said, not sure why she felt the need to throw that out there. “Everyone here is talking about the great changes you’ve already made to benefits and work shifts and such. We’ve had more applications coming in than usual.”

The men all smiled at that and she realized why she’d said it. It really mattered to these guys that their employees were happy and that they had a reputation as good guys to work for. She liked that about them so much.

Dax looked especially pleased. “Awesome.”

She also liked how much it mattered to him even though he was no longer one of their bosses. He’d been a huge part of the changes they’d made for their employees from benefits to work environment.

“We should offer a couple dollars more an hour for the later shift, of course. We can have a job fair. But—” Then she hesitated.

These were big decisions. She did not want to get too far ahead or in too deep in case things didn’t work.

“But?” Aiden prompted.

Whitney took a breath. She’d known Aiden for a long time. He was Cam’s best friend. He’d been one of the few people who had known about her and Cam in high school. He’d kept their secret for a very long time. He had Cam’s back whether he agreed with every decision or not. He was a great friend.

She wanted him to be her friend.

The thought seemed to come from out of the blue. It seemed misplaced in the midst of a business meeting. But these meetings always showcased how these people fit together. They each had strengths and weaknesses and they balanced each other almost perfectly. They’d found each other and together had created not just a wildly successful business partnership but an enviable friendship.

And she wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to fit somewhere the way they all did.

Aiden had come back to Appleby for Zoe. He’d bought Hot Cakes as part of his new life. And the rest of them had come with him. To help him. To support him. To back him up. But also because they probably couldn’t imagine being in Chicago without him.

She didn’t have anyone following her. She didn’t have anyone staying for her. Hell, her family—the people she’d given her dedication to—had left to go to Dallas, leaving her here.

She supposed she could have gone with them. But they hadn’t asked her to.

“But what, Whit?” Aiden asked.

She did not want to screw this up. They were trusting her to know how they should move forward with this new product. What she knew came from listening in and observing. She’d never actually done it. She’d never really done anything. She’d led a few meetings, met with a few accounts, gone to a few conferences, but she hadn’t really led anything important. Certainly not launching an entirely new product including everything from the recipe to the labor needed.

This whole new-snack-cake thing had been her idea.

And they’d ended up with alpacas at the taste-testing event.

She swallowed. “I just think we should start small,” she said. “Maybe we can transition one of the machines for a night shift three nights a week. We’ll offer overtime and hire a small crew and let them know it’s temporary work for now. I don’t want them to think they’re coming on full time if it doesn’t take off the way we’d like.”

Aiden watched her for several seconds. Then he nodded. “Whatever you think.”

She felt her gut tighten. That might have been the worst thing he could have said.

Grant glanced from Aiden to Whitney then back before he nodded. “We’ll follow your lead, Whitney.”

Her gut tightened even further and she felt a little sick.

Whitney forced herself to take a deep breath. She needed to relax. This was how a new product launched. Probably. They had to actually launch the product to see how it went. It couldn’t be successful if they didn’t put it out there.

She never should have pitched the idea of a new snack cake to the guys. Or she should have gotten all of this together before she did. Why hadn’t they asked about all of this before they put together a big event to choose what kind of snack cake they’d be adding? Obviously they needed machines to make whatever it was. And packaging. And a name for it.

She felt her heart racing.

They hadn’t asked because they didn’t know how to do this. They’d been trusting her to do it. They’d been following her lead. She was the one who should have known the proper steps to take and what all they needed to do.

Fuck.

“Cam!” A voice called on the computer. A voice Whitney knew very well. “I need the food processor!”

Cam met Whitney’s eyes through the computer screen. “She does not need the food processor.”

Whitney felt a little tension leave her shoulders as she smiled. “No, no she does not.”

“I can’t make guacamole without it!” Didi called.

“You most certainly can!” he called back. “Hand mashed guac is the way to go. As we discussed this morning.”

“So you hid the food processor from me? In my own house?” Didi demanded.

“Yes. But I’m not sure I needed to,” he told her, “since you’re looking for it in the bathroom!”

“Are you making fun of me having memory problems?” Didi asked.

He grinned. “Of course not.” He turned back to the group. “I need to go.” He disconnected without waiting for anyone to say anything.