"Alright, Oleg, just put the oven over there."
Daisy wore a hat folded from newspaper on her head and held a small bucket of paint in one hand. Even as she painted the sign for the little shop, she couldn't stop directing the chef from the restaurant next door who had come to help.
The Wilson Titanium Oven was not only expensive, but also heavy.
Daisy had gotten a loan from her teacher, but buying a brand-new oven was still beyond her means. So she had taken leave from New Mexico these past few days and returned to New York to look for a suitable secondhand one.
Sure, it might have one problem or another, but as long as it was polished until it gleamed, who would know it was used?
The only issue was that Wilson Group did not provide installation for secondhand goods. They had to handle it themselves.
Fortunately, the restaurant owner renting them the place was decent, and the chef was enthusiastic. Otherwise, Daisy and Caroline, two women, really would not have known how to hook this thing up to the pipes.
The oven was in place, and the shop and ingredients were ready. Jen had come by today to test the menu, and she said Daisy was definitely going to make a fortune.
They could open tomorrow. Oh yeah!
Caroline had come up with the shop's name. When Daisy couldn't think of anything suitable, Caroline stared blankly at Daisy's chest for a while. Then her eyes suddenly lit up, and she named the shop Max cup cake, meaning "maximum cup-size cake."
It was obviously a shop selling tiny cupcakes, yet the name used a double entendre to call itself "max." Wasn't that effect enough?
The chef wore a sleeveless T-shirt made of semi-transparent mesh. After