Everything Polly saw raised more red flags than a Soviet military parade. Dressed in a way that looked like most of the villains she had seen, at least in movies, he carried himself like someone she would never be. The people who had made her life Hell the last few years in her big-small town with ambitions far beyond its borders. Tuesday’s reaction didn’t help either. Polly’s newfound mentor looked like someone was feeding her rotten fish when he came in.

The name Declan Perry was known all over town, as were his billboards. It seemed impossible for someone to look so smarmy in real-life, but there he was.

“Was that him?” Polly asked, coming out from the kitchen when he’d gone into the office with Lind.

“In the flesh, he’s pretty, but the Devil often is, taking on pleasing forms,” Tuesday warned.

“Pretty Vacant,” Polly spat.

“Shakespeare?” Tuesday asked.

“Close, it was Johnny Rotten.”

Polly hated how much she liked him. At least in the aesthetic sense. He had the face to make her swoon when seen above a good leather jacket and jeans.

The thee-piece suit let her know they were different sorts of beings. Not just different sides of the tracks, but different worlds. The biggest problem with the rich, in Polly’s experience, had less to do with morality than perspective.

The thing that cracked her nail polish about fancy-pants rich-boys like Declan wasn’t their silver spoons, but the fact they were oblivious. Never quite able to believe anything could be so bad.

She thought about the buyouts of both houses and land. The children of privilege strutting down the streets in the latest fashions, bumping into her and her friends. The fancy balls every weekend she was never invited to. Not that she would have gone, anyway.

The more she remembered, the more Polly got mad. A burning need to strike a blow for justice rose in her chest. Along with the usual pressure that felt like it might crush her heart.

Declan Perry came out from the office, Lind nowhere to be seen. He nodded to Polly on the way to the door. Taking up a cupcake, she whipped it in his general direction, smacking him square in the back.

He turned, as if to see who would ever be so bold. Polly let out a little yelp and dropped to the floor behind the counter, hoping he might just go away.

“It’s safe now, sweetie,” Tuesday said.

“Really?” Polly asked, peeking up from behind the counter.

“Jeez, you’d think he was going to grind your bones to make his bread.”

“No,” Polly said with a laugh, “that’s silly—right?”

“No, he might be mad, but won’t do anything. Guys like him don’t notice little people like us. We’re like insects to them. Annoying at the moment, but below notice.”

“Oh, good,” Polly said.

“That was outstanding, by the way.”

“It was?”

Polly hadn’t been thinking, just reacting on impulse.

“Of course it was. You do not know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“You have?”

“Sure, I’ve just never had the guts. I don’t want to get in trouble with Lind and would miss anyway. I’ve never had such an excellent arm, not like yours. It landed splat against him and stuck firm. The stump didn’t even fall.”

Pride swelled in Polly’s heart, happy that her crazy impulse had gone so well. People rarely appreciated her efforts quite that much as Tuesday.

“What was that about a splat?” Lind asked, coming out of the office.

“Nothing, I was just fooling around with the rookie,” Tuesday said.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re getting along so well, but not on the clock, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tuesday barked, giving a stiff salute.

“You two,” Lind muttered, returning to the office.

“What did I do?” Polly asked. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“She thinks you’re a bad influence on me,” Tuesday confessed.

“Moi?” Polly asked, batting her eyelashes.

“I know, right? I wouldn’t have thought peer pressure would mean much when I started pushing 30.”

“I’d hope before that,” Polly said.

Many had tried to get Polly Parker to join the mainstream line. She didn’t listen when she was 9, and doubted she would at 90 either.

“Some people have trouble getting out of that kind of mind-set,” Tuesday said, “Lind is awesome. She just worries about me.”

“That makes sense,” Polly said, “she’s kind of a momma bear, huh?”

“For her found family, definitely. She never had kids of her own but has lots of love to give and tends to freely.”

“Like to waifs and strays?” Polly asked.

“You said it, sweetie.”

The anger came back, thinking of Lind being bought out by some faceless corporation. If it wasn’t for Victory Cupcakes’ owner and manager, things could have gone badly for Polly.

Lind not only gave her the job of her dreams as a baker at the landmark cupcake shop but also helped her find a place. Polly sleeping on Lind’s couch until then.

Lind had been more of a mom to Polly than the woman who had birthed her. There was no way Polly was going to let the takeover happen without a fight.

“Are you alright?” Tuesday asked.

“What do you mean?” Polly asked, coming back to reality.

“Oh, sweetie, you look ready for war.”

Polly stared deep into the screen, her eyes protected by a pair of Jackie-O shades.

Typing like a machine gun, with occasional punctuation from the mouse, she went about her work. There wasn’t much for her to go on, but that was enough.

Perry Enterprises has increased to more than a hundred local businesses in the past few years.

There was no record of what happened to them after that, but Polly knew, as she knew that water was wet and cupcakes were awesome, that it couldn’t be anything good.