The cool temperature breeze hit my face, summer dug its claws into the world, however, autumn blew it away and took over. September was an in between time for Ohio. Not quite settled in, the tree leaves had dashes of blood red, bright yellow sunshine, or pumpkin orange. The emerald color seemed to fade, the stems clung onto the trees. It'll be here. The fall. Leaves separated from their origin.

"Mr. Dalton was asking about you," Min-ho declared. He put the ceramic mug down on the coaster, steam evaporated into the air; the competition between two temperatures.

"Was he?" I chuckled. I leaned back against the low, lounge chair. My right leg propped over my left knee.

We were sitting outside for their lunch, a new restaurant called O'Connor's Pub right across the street from Cincinnati's Aronoff Center for the Arts. In the nighttime, the crowded streets filled with musical lovers waiting to get in line for the newest play. Lunchtime was ideal. Less people, of course bright neon orange signs screamed road work, and cement refilled holes for the coming winter.

"Yeah, I saw him in passing a week ago. He wanted to congratulate you! Someone told him you got a three-year contract with Lucas and Friends to be a host on a new baking competition. W-What's the name of it again? I can't remember it."

I detected teasing in Min-ho's voice. Min-ho placed a finger on his chin.

"Sprinkles On Top," I replied. Trying to keep a straight face with the cutest, silliest title. A smile on my lips. "You wouldn't happen to know who this certain someone is that told Mr. Dalton?"

Min-ho picked up his mug. "Nope. I have no clue." His voice echoed and volume decreased as he took a gulp of his mocha.

Thank you, Min-ho.

Min-ho must have told Mr. Dalton the wonderful news. I had been in contact with Mr. Dalton, however with this new opportunity, dedication to spending time with Sugar, family, new possible living arrangements, everything seemed to pile up and leaving me to realize my late responses through email.

I'm sure Min-ho left out the story behind how I got the deal.

With Champion reunion happening, Min-ho signed up as the host, he heard a new project that the company wanted to explore. They tested out their ideas to willing participants to see what the viewers engaged and enjoyed. Baking competition was number one. So Min-ho did the best thing any friend would ask for. He referred me to the producers. Name dropped a ton. And a short explanation he believed I would be an ideal fit for being the host.

In one whole month, I got the job.

Film started three weeks ago at the end of August. Lucas and Friends ideal published date would be December. So far, one episode took two days to film. Depending on how many episodes, the writers and producers thought of, it'll factor into when the show airs on television.

It was all because of Min-ho. Really.

"How's the reunion been? Better being a host than being a contestant?" I asked.

Min-ho rolled his eyes. "I don't know how, but for some reason it's almost worse. Not to be pessimistic. I guess I expected it to be above it all. Less drama since I'm not 'apart' of it. However, I am! I'm in the middle. I had to stand in between Abby and Penelope from yelling at each other. Two alphas competing. It's just – a lot of tension."

Hearing Penelope's name made me laugh.

My stomach didn't churn. My heart didn't drop to the pit of my stomach. My breathing even and ready to reply. She held no effect on me.

"You got more than you asked for," I leaned forward, taking a sip of my water.

"You have no idea."

I nodded to Min-ho's statement.

The brunette waitress came over with two dishes. Silence happened as we dove into our entrées. I could imagine.

The shenanigans entangled with Penelope, keeping her spot as a winner amongst other previous victors. It would be a mad-house. Figuring out what was truth and fiction. And boy, did Penelope throw one last farewell to me. She did it to spite me. I knew. I just did.

Since the rumors, blow up on social media, BuzzFeed articles, and many more, Online Dating: Real or Fiction? documentary earned attention. Or at least, the first week it was released. Once viewers discovered there would be no resolution with me pairing up with a final lady; instead, the documentary took a turn on the theme of self-discovery and the fact in this experience I opened up. I did believe I could fall in love. Mr. Dalton won the bet. However, viewers decreased throughout the summer, until Penelope posted a picture on her Instagram story.

Online Dating: Real or Fiction

Her bright, neon pink toenails were in the photo. Her foot leaned on the coffee table with the television screen showing his face, paused at an odd timing, in the background.

It was a slap to my face.

Because once again. She. Upped. Our. Ratings.

Viewers came back and spurred others to watch this scandalous documentary that left poor, brokenhearted Penelope Becker to fend for herself. Blah. Blah. I had to shake my head, and again choose to move on. It was tough since the documentary declared a "success" with constant viewership. Another thing to learn to let go.

I had moved on.

I had a job opportunity. Keeping an income, staying in contact with my mother, going on dates with Sugar.

Ah.

I smiled. We were moving at a nice pace. Exchanging titles: boyfriend and girlfriend. Every other weekend, we switched to where we'll spend our time together. This week was her weekend. I'll have to undergo Dottie's sideways judgmental glare. Her emerald eyes. Ghostly haunting. As she stared and stared at me from the corners of the rooms and ran away into the bedroom (or sometimes closet). Amadeus chilled under the lightbulb. Paper forms scattered all over her kitchen table, hair pulled back into a messy bun . . . at least that was a new normal behavior. Until the store picked up. Small steps.

No rush.

"Have any plans this evening?" I asked, wiping the napkin on my face. Ketchup got on my stubbled chin. My messy burger caused this mishap.

"None," Min-ho replied with a grin, "What are you thinking?"

"Sugar is having a small get together. Friends and family. You're welcome to join-"

"I'll pass. I don't want to get in between your 'Sugar' time-"

"I think I heard Sugar say Lydia will pop on by." I took another bite of my burger. "I might be imagining it. I can't remember."

Min-ho folded his arms. "Really?"

"It could be hearsay."

Min-ho shook his head. "You sly dog."

"What?"

"I love to join." Min-ho pretended to ignore my fake 'I didn't hear what you said' act. "What shall I bring?"

"Just bring yourself. And an empty stomach. There'll be plenty of baked goods to eat."

' ' ' ' '

The off-white speckled floor creaked underneath my navy closed toe shoes, streaks of me running into the desk's corners. I looked up at the ceiling, the golden hour hues gave the walls an additional color; the building had two glass casings with two pale whit countertops behind it, then there was one countertop paralleled to the wall on the right side. Two computers leaned up against the countertop, they were wired through the circle holes carved out. A strong, oil aroma confirmed that the painters finished their first coat yesterday.

Lavender with bright turquoise as the accent color, it was on the thin beam separating the upper part of the wall. It created a calm atmosphere. I walked over to the counter with a crystal vase holding plastic daisies in my hands. The emerald stem protruded, making small triangles to indicate an artificial leaf.

Soon I'll get real ones, Mama.

I grinned.

My eyes scanned behind where an additional room attached. An archway displayed the connection. In the second room, metal sinks and tables and three ovens stacked up vertically on top of each other. An island counter where deep, wide, thin, tiny pots and pans hung from the ceiling, using wired hooks. The clean style gave a modern look with the small details.

"Wow," I whispered. My shoulder leaned against the countertop, setting down the glass vase on the counter's corner.

My index finger grazed the new golden key in my pants' pocket. 2604 Faire Lane.

Tears started to form. On the archway, there was calligraphy written:

A daisy painted beside the letter "t," one petal fell – on the same line as the name.

We did it.

With Papa's interest, savings, time, and his support along with Cassidy, she planned on volunteering a few hours per week to Mama's cause. And well even August! One or two hours in between his takes on his show.

"I'll name drop you when I have to introduce myself. I might be able to get away with it one or two times. We'll see." I remembered him winking at me, before I giggled.

Although we both hadn't earned "million-dollar" status after the documentary, I paid off my student loans! I dedicated to changing my position to part-time for the paramedics – stepping into the unknown with my 401K, insurance, and anything else my mind tried to think of to stop me from pursuing this goal. Plus Cassidy knew someone from her AA group who knew someone that owned a building, that said, "You can have it. That means you have the mess, too. Electric. Dents. Rodents. Less traffic. Good luck."

With time, we were close to the final inspections. Paperwork. Finishing up the logistics.

I might fail.

I could lose a lot of sleep. How will I be able to juggle the hours? Will I have to hire other bakers? How will –

I took a deep breath. I will do it one step at a time. Prioritize sleep. Just one day. At. A. Time.

Focusing out my ideal customer. Marketing. Thankfully, August will be aiding in that.

My paramedic crew already gave out the word. Telling patients, friends, family, anyone who mentioned desserts, pies, cakes, buckeyes – go to !

I giggled. My fingers danced on the countertop, before I popped into the kitchen making sure my goodies were ready. And still there! Buckeyes, brownies, peppermint chocolate chip cookies, Snickerdoodles, and lemon cookies filled the trays. The paper baking sheets organized and kept the dough from molding into the others. I spent last night creating these lovelies.

I baked way too much. Lydia, Monica, Papa, and August are the only ones coming to see the place. At least, they'll see the finishing touches.

A knock sounded at the door.

I ran over to it. Flipping on the light switch near the front door, I could see who it was through the distorted glass, two blobs, one shorter than the other. The autumn breeze touched my face.

"Lydia!" I said. My arms were wide open.

Lydia walked inside and gave me a big hug. Monica glued to her right side, her fingers tugged at Lydia's dress pants. Monica wore denim jeans, a rustic orange sweater, and hair pulled back in a ponytail.

When Lydia pulled away, she cried. Her hand held onto my arms. Fingers grazed over top of my long sleeve t-shirt. Dark brown eyes held so much warmth, her gaze never faltered as she told me.

"I knew you'd be here. You've dreamt this . . . well you first told me – in college – when you were six years old. The spark is in you, Sugar," she bit her lip, "And sometimes I'm not there for you. I have work related commitments, helping out with Monica's baseball team, and just-"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Where did this come from?

Now it was my turn to grab onto Lydia's arms. "You are there. You've been here. I want to thank you for boosting me up when I'm down, which I have to say, it happens a lot. You help me. You are one of my greatest foundations." I smiled. My eyesight got watery. "I want to remind you, I can be that too for you. You don't always have to be the strong one. Of course, I'll cry. Smile. Laugh. Because I'm pretty sensitive. But I can be one of your foundations. We can lean on each other."

"I know," Lydia said, she quickly dabbed away her tears. "Gosh with Daniel - I needed you. I still do."

"I just – I want to reaffirm it. I know you know. It's just good to say it."

I saw Lydia's shoulders drop, her jawline settled, and her eyes glancing up, trying to stop the tears.

"Gosh," she started to wave air in her eyes, "This is what you make me, Sugar. An emotional mess."

"I tend to do that." I laughed.

The corner of Lydia's lips twitched, curled up into a nice smile. She pulled me in for another hug.

This time, it was a long one. The kind that both dwelled. Hands rubbed up and down on our backs, all around nice.

"Momma," Monica finally spoke. "When can we eat the desserts?"

Lydia and I laughed.

"Well," Lydia responded, "Since we're the first ones here. We get to choose whatever we want from all of Sugar's goodies."

Monica squealed, "Yay!" Her arms up in the air, running towards the kitchen.

Another knock came from the door.

"I'll be right back."

I greeted Papa and Cassidy.

He wore a simple button-up polo shirt matching his eyes, tan pants, and a baseball cap on. His smile created wrinkles on his forehead and chin and one tiny dimple. I hadn't seen him this happy in a while, especially after Mama passed. Cassidy wore a colorful autumn leaves blouse, emerald, red, and dark orange, and black dress pants. Her French-manicured nails ran over the side of her pants, up and down. Papa called me before heading over, I knew Cassidy was going to pick him up.

"Come on in," I held the door open.

"Sugar, this looks amazing," Papa said, his arms across his chest.

"It's gorgeous," Cassidy declared. Her eyes wandered over the entire room.

"Thank you," I said, "And I want to thank you again with your connection. Really. I don't think it would have been possible without you and your friend."

Cassidy smiled. Her eyes moved to where I stood.

"You don't have to thank me. I really didn't do anything."

"You did."

I took a step closer to her. "This confirmed to pursue my dream. And Mama's love for cooking."

In a slow motion, I wrapped my arms around Cassidy's torso. My hands shaking, a small thought made me timid: what if she doesn't want to be touched?

"Thank you, Mom."

My head leaned against Cassidy's shoulder.

I felt Cassidy's hands moved to my back. A circular motion over my shoulder blades, I tried to breathe. The fact Cassidy – my mom – was here. In my arms. Touching, hugging, and was too much for me to fully comprehend.

"Thank you, Sugar." Cassidy's voice choked up.

I nodded.

Then there was air between us.

Goodness, I should have brought tissues.

Wiping more tears, I looked over to my left side. Papa stood with his hands in front of him.

"Come here!"

I embraced him as well.

Hugs all around.

He chuckled. It was quick, squeeze hug, and along with Papa patting my shoulder. We let go for a moment.

The door opened.

"Are we late to the party?"

I turned towards the door. My face felt warm. A smile. My cheeks were sore. I dismissed the uncomfortable feeling. Raising my arms in the air, I waved them on it.

"Come in, come in," I responded.

August and Min-ho walked over the threshold. Actually, one stepped in front of the other to get through. I opened my arms. I hugged Min-ho.

"Min-ho! You're here," I commented.

He patted my back, gently leaning forward into my space.

"Wouldn't want to miss it," Min-ho paused, "get to taste all the goodies. And see this amazing bakery!"

He whistled. "It's breathtaking. I'll recommend your treats to the directors and writers – I mean, P.A.s, who'll be the runners, to retrieve them."

"That'll be great."

Min-ho nodded.

A squeal came from the kitchen, a pitter-patter sound ran into the front room. Monica giggled, brownie crumbs on her nose, chin, and hair, as she ran towards me. Her dark curls bobbed up and down, her wobbly legs tried to keep her at a consistent level.

"Suga! Suga! Mommy says to ask. Can I. Can I have another treat?" Monica asked the second time while she looked at her feet.

"Of course. You can have only more, but then we have to make sure everyone else gets a dessert too."

"O-Okay."

Monica looked up. Her eyelids squinted up at the stranger, Min-ho.

He bent down, his right knee planted on the ground, where his left knee propped up. He got to be on the same eye level.

"Hi there. Who are you?" his voice, nice and gentle.

"She's my daughter." Lydia walked up behind Monica, leaning down to wrap her arms around her torso, "Monica."

A realization on his face. Flashed for one second in his dark brown eyes, then it disappeared. In its place, his lips transformed into a smile. "Please to meet you, I'm Min-ho."

Monica opened her mouth, trying to form his name. "Min-ho? Have you gotten a cookie?"

He shook his head. "I haven't-"

"Which one would you like?" she grabbed his hand. She led him to the kitchen.

I covered my mouth, trying to keep the laughter at bay. I couldn't believe it, how Min-ho was at the mercy of a four-year-old. I glanced over to see Lydia's reaction: her lips parted, eyes focused on the two, and redness started at her cheeks.

Wait, really? Was Lydia blushing?

"Who played Cedar-Man in the newest film?" Papa asked, "Oh, I can't remember his name."

"Jeremy Garfield." August rubbed his neck, "I-I think."

Papa's quizzing August.

Coming closer to Papa and August's conversation, Cassidy engaged with Lydia.

"You're right! My, my, are you a superhero movie fan too? Well, I mean, movies? Lord of the Rings is one of Sugar's favorite franchises – me as well."

"I do," August nodded, "I have to say The Two Towers is my favorite out of the whole trilogy."

It was silent.