Operation Impress the Ice Queen

Mia threw herself onto the café’s worn leather couch with the kind of dramatic sigh usually reserved for tragic heroines in old movies. She buried her face into her oversized sleeves, muffling a groan.

“One week,” she muttered, voice echoing inside the fabric. “One stupid week to impress the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met.”

Her staff—if you could even call them that—consisted of exactly two part-timers: an overenthusiastic college kid named Hana who was currently wiping tables, and a retiree named Mr. Sato who baked bread in the mornings because he said it kept him young.

Hana peeked over from across the café. “Sooo, who was that lady? She looked… important. And kinda scary.”

Mia flung her arms upward, nearly smacking herself in the face with her floppy sleeve. “Important? She’s Yuri Solberg! Like, the Yuri Solberg. Critic of doom. Queen of harsh reviews. Slayer of bakeries!”

Hana’s eyes widened. “Wait… the Culinary Standard lady? The one who made that Michelin place close down because the soup was ‘pretentious’?”

“Exactly!” Mia groaned again, sliding further down the couch until she was basically a sweater puddle. “And she’s coming back in a week. And if I don’t blow her mind, she’s going to bury Sugarbean alive.”

Mr. Sato chuckled from behind the counter, kneading dough with slow, steady movements. “Then you’ll just have to make something better.”

Mia peeked out from her sleeve cocoon. “Better? Mr. Sato, she called my cupcake too sweet! Too sweet! That’s like calling a hug too soft. Or a rainbow too colorful! Who even says that?!”

“Apparently she does,” Hana muttered, half-amused, half-terrified.

Mia sat up, ruffling her messy pink-blond hair. Her heart thudded against her ribs, not just from panic but from the memory of her. Yuri’s calm eyes. That perfect midnight hair. The way she had said, I don’t smile for amateurs.

Mia pressed her palms against her cheeks, which were heating dangerously. “Ughhh, why does she have to be so…” She waved her hands vaguely in the air, searching for the word. “…so annoyingly gorgeous while insulting me?! It’s unfair! Like, pick one—be scary or be hot, not both!”

Hana nearly dropped her rag. “Wait. Did you just say she’s hot?”

“No! I said she’s scary!” Mia yelped, but her face betrayed her, pinker than her frosting. She stuffed her sleeves against her cheeks again. “Scary-hot. Like, terrifying-but-pretty. Like a vampire in a perfume ad. Ughhh.”

Mr. Sato only chuckled again, clearly entertained.

Mia leapt to her feet, fists balled dramatically. “Okay, listen. If she wants less sweet, then I’ll give her something sophisticated. Something fancy. Something that’ll knock that icy crown right off her perfect head.”

Hana raised a brow. “So… what’s the plan?”

Mia froze. Her eyes darted around the café like inspiration might crawl out from under a table. “…I’ll figure it out.”

The truth was, she didn’t know. Sugarbean wasn’t exactly known for refined, elegant desserts. Her style was bright, cheerful, comforting. Childish, maybe—but that was the point. She baked smiles, not prestige.

But if Yuri Solberg thought she could dismiss that with a single raised eyebrow—well, she had another thing coming.

Mia planted her hands on her hips, sweater sleeves flopping ridiculously. “Operation Impress the Ice Queen starts now!”

Hana clapped half-heartedly. Mr. Sato shook his head, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

Mia’s determination, however reckless, had solidified. She would spend every waking moment this week testing, tasting, perfecting. She didn’t know how yet, but she would find a way to make Yuri Solberg eat her words.

And maybe, just maybe… make her smile, too.

———

To be continued…

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