T emima surveyed her Official Work Space with pride. Okay it was only her kitchen counter albeit with a proudly framed certificate hanging over the fleishig sink certifying her expertise in Artisanal Cookery courtesy of the Baking Institute of Massachusetts. And Gershon had surprised her yesterday with a brand-new swivel stool. (She assumed it was more for him to sit on while keeping her company and nibbling at burnt-ish corners as she whisked across the room like a true professional filling orders for the Business.)

Right now though she was the one twirling on the high stool in anticipation of the calls sure to come. Her advertisement had gone to print half an hour ago the editor of the Massachusetts Monthly had said so last she called to check and no doubt even now eager readers were lapping up her Very First Advertisement and reaching for the phone to place their Shavuos orders. It was all about timing and three weeks before the Festival of Cheesecakes was no doubt the best time to launch her dessert-baking enterprise.

Her family was so excited. They’d been behind her even voting on the name. Best Desserts had won thanks to her seven sisters-in-law no match for her one-and-only sister Toby who had said sweetly “Oh Temima just give another vote to the one you like best.” Shame — she had really preferred Desserts Delish. Then again the Insiders’ Business Manual 2017 had said to get outsiders’ opinions. Her poor sisters-in-law just didn’t have an ear for alliteration.

Never mind that now. Best Desserts it was and she even had her favorite cheesecake recipe marked with a napkin all ready for the first call.

Right on cue the phone rang. She dived for it thought again and withdrew her hand for five agonizing seconds.

Don’t look too eager.

“Good morning ” she said brightly wondering if she should try Hello Best Desserts Temima speaking.

“Hello it’s Avi.”

Funny she’d always imagined her customers being women. But it was 2017 and if she could run a business well he was welcome to order cakes.

“Yes how can I help?” Her voice came out a bit squeaky unlike the smooth polished pitch she had practiced. She thought of the suave tones of Mr. Goldrich’s TED talk: “Vibes of the Voice — Get Phone Manner Down to the Wire.”

“Is Moish home?”

She smacked her forehead with a little sigh. Oh Avi Avi Silverstein Moish’s best friend. She went off in search of her nine-year-old.

“Keep the line clear!” she called frantically after his retreating back.

The woman who met her at the front gate was wiry energetic and fairly bounced off the ground in a pair of Nikes. Temima toes uncomfortably squished in new patent-leather heels stretched out a businesslike hand and gave what she hoped was a firm professional squeeze.

“Temima of Best Desserts.”

Three days post-ad this was her most promising lead. A residential facility for the elderly had invited her for an interview for the position of dessert chef.

Mrs. Nikes flashed a smile. “Hi there! I’m Deeny that’s D-double-E-NY as in New York and I’m the senior manager of this facility.”

Temima thought that rather presumptuous but then again so were her own heels. She felt quite the seasoned Businesswoman clicketing down the long corridor at a rapid pace and only stumbling twice. Luckily Deeny was too far ahead to notice. (Excerpted from Family First Issue 544 – Shavuos 2017 Special Edition)