Sugar sugar baby

[15] A Partner in Crime

I couldn't wait. As soon as Vanessa gave me the green light, my mind was buzzing with ideas, the kind of rush you get when you know something big is about to happen. And the first person I had to tell was Sasha.

We had been tight ever since our university days. If there was anyone who shared my passion for food, it was her. We'd spent countless late nights cramming for exams, talking about the dream—our dream—of opening a restaurant one day. Only now, it wasn't just a dream anymore. It was real.

I found Sasha hanging out at her usual spot—this low-key food truck joint by the university. Even after graduating, we still found ourselves here, drawn by the cheap, greasy tacos that somehow felt like home.

"Sasha!" I called out, spotting her ponytail swishing as she turned around. That ever-energetic bounce in her step hadn't changed a bit.

Sasha, with her medium-length brown ponytail and that carefree, happy grin plastered on her face, waved back enthusiastically. Her simple, casual outfit—a loose tank top and jeans—did nothing to hide her curvy figure, which she never seemed to pay much attention to but knew how to flaunt in her own way. She was all about comfort, and that was part of what made her so damn fun to be around. No pretense. Just Sasha being Sasha.

"Tristan, what's up?" she asked, walking up to me with that natural, happy-go-lucky vibe she always had. Her hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"I've got news. Big fking news," I said, trying to keep my excitement in check but failing miserably.

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Did you win the lottery or something? Spill it, man!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Better. Vanessa's backing me. We're going to start the restaurant."

For a second, she just stood there, her eyes widening in disbelief. And then, like a bomb had just gone off, she screamed, "No fking way!"

Before I knew it, she'd grabbed my hands, her excitement infectious. "Are you serious? Like, we're actually doing this? Holy shit, Tristan!"

"Yeah, we're actually doing this," I said, grinning like an idiot. "I just got the funds."

Without another word, Sasha's eyes lit up, and before I knew it, we were both holding hands, jumping up and down like a couple of overgrown kids. It felt like everything was falling into place, like all the stress and uncertainty from the past few years had been leading up to this moment.

"This is fking insane!" she exclaimed, still jumping, her ponytail bouncing with every movement. "We've talked about this for years! Our own place! Oh my gosh, I can already picture it—like, fusion dishes from everywhere, but in that fun, casual vibe we always talked about."

"Exactly," I said, catching my breath from all the jumping. "I want it to be a place where people come for the food but stay for the atmosphere, you know? No pretentious bullshit, just amazing flavors."

She clapped her hands together, beaming. "Dude, this is what we were born to do. And Vanessa's okay with me being part of this?"

I paused for a moment. Vanessa hadn't exactly mentioned Sasha, but I knew she wouldn't mind. As long as I was in control, she'd let me do whatever I wanted with the business. At least, that's what I told myself.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "She's cool with it. She knows we're a package deal. You're the best fucking chef I know, and I wouldn't do this without you."

Sasha grinned even wider. "Damn straight. And you've got the business sense. We're gonna kill this, Tristan. LA doesn't even know what's coming."

We both plopped down on the bench outside the food truck, the weight of the moment finally sinking in.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, leaning back, her arms behind her head, the excitement still shining in her eyes. "Do we have a location? A concept? Or are we just winging it?"