“I’ve spent enough time being told what to do about cakes,” she muttered.

I offered to drive her.

“You can just hear what she has to say.

No one is making you take an order.”

At the café, Marisol was careful.

She admired Rose’s work, asked about the kinds of cakes she enjoyed making, and made it clear that she wasn’t looking for a discount because Rose was a grandmother.

She presented a written outline with prices, delivery expectations, and a limit of one small commission per month.

Rose read the paper twice.