2 Broke Girls x 1 Rich Man [TV series 2 Broke Girls ff]

Two Days Later

"Caroline, I feel so powerful right now."

Max dramatically fanned herself with the twenty-thousand-dollar check as they stood in line at the bank. She had a ridiculous grin plastered on her face, and she was radiating the energy of someone who had just won the lottery.

Caroline, on the other hand, was trying very, very hard not to have a panic attack.

"Max," she whispered, glancing around, "stop flashing it around like we're trying to get mugged."

Max snorted. "Babe, if anyone tries to mug us, I will mug them first. Nobody's taking our sugar daddy money."

Caroline facepalmed. "It's not sugar daddy money. It's business money."

Max waggled her eyebrows. "Business money from a very attractive rich man."

"MAX."

"This is the most money I've ever seen in one place," she whispered, gripping the check dramatically. "Do you think they'll let me roll around in a pile of twenties after we cash it?"

Caroline sighed. "Max."

"I just wanna swim in the money, Scrooge McDuck-style."

"MAX."

"Okay, okay." Max sighed but then wiggled her eyebrows. "But technically, this is our first big paycheck as business owners. So, we should celebrate."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "We are celebrating by cashing it so we can buy ovens and supplies."

Max pouted. "Boring. I was thinking more like, one irresponsible splurge—"

Caroline grabbed the check out of her hand. "No. Absolutely not."

"Just something tiny! Like a pet lizard! Or a life-size cardboard cutout of Keanu Reeves!"

Caroline gave her a deadpan look. "Do you want me to rip this check in half?"

Max gasped. "You wouldn't."

Caroline held it between her fingers like she might.

Max immediately straightened up. "Okay, okay! Responsible choices only! No lizards. No Keanu."

The bank teller finally called them forward, and Caroline handed over the check while Max literally bounced on her heels.

Minutes later, they had $20,000 in cold, hard cash in their hands.

Caroline felt relieved.

Max felt drunk on power.

...

Max and Caroline stood outside the bank, clutching a freshly cashed twenty-thousand-dollar envelope like they had just robbed the place.

Max, staring at the money, let out a low whistle. "This is the most cash I've ever held at one time."

Caroline nodded solemnly. "Same. And considering I used to be rich, that's sad."

Max smirked. "So, what's stopping us from hopping on a plane to the Bahamas and faking our deaths?"

Caroline gave her a deadpan look. "The fact that we'd probably blow it all on airport snacks before we even made it through security."

Max considered this. "…Fair point."

Caroline tucked the envelope into her bag and exhaled. "Alright. Time to be responsible. We have a thousand cupcakes to make, which means we need a plan."

Max groaned. "Ugh, can't we just wing it?"

Caroline's death glare could have set things on fire.

Max sighed. "Fine. Plan away, Napoleon."

[A few minutes later]

They sat down at their favorite coffee shop, their official planning headquarters (also known as the only place they could sit for hours without getting kicked out).

Caroline pulled out her notepad and clicked her pen. "Alright. We have two choices."

Max propped her chin on her hand, already bored. "Hit me."

Caroline tapped her list.

Option 1:

Rent a small place for a month.

Buy one or two industrial ovens.

Stock up on baking essentials.

Save time.

Total estimated cost: $14,000.

Max's eyes widened. "FOURTEEN THOUSAND? Jesus Christ, Caroline, are we building the ovens from scratch with our bare hands?!"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Big ovens are expensive and time saver."

Max snatched the notepad. "Okay, what's Option 2?"

Caroline pointed.

Option 2:

Rent a fully equipped bakery.

Use their ovens, tools, and workspace.

No heavy investments.

Work 9-10 hours continuously to get the order ready, which I doubt is possible for sane people.

Total estimated cost: Depends on the time. Hourly mostly.

Max immediately circled Option 2. "Boom. Done. Easy choice."

Caroline snatched the notepad back. "No. Think long-term."

Max blinked. "What part of 'No heavy investments' sounds like a long-term plan?"

Caroline leaned forward. "Max. This isn't just about this order. If we do this right... if we impress Alex then this could be huge for us. Imagine it. Celebrities at his fancy Hollywood parties begging for our cupcakes. Wedding planners calling us for high-end events. A full-fledged business."

Max blinked again. "Or… hear me out… we bake the cupcakes, make our money, and don't immediately develop delusions of grandeur?"

Caroline groaned. "Max. Think bigger! If this works, we won't need to rent bakeries. We'll have our own bakery."

Max snorted. "Babe, we barely have our own fridge."

Caroline dramatically grabbed Max's shoulders. "LISTEN TO ME. If we rent a bakery, the money is gone. If we invest in a space and ovens, we build something."

Max frowned. "But fourteen grand, Caroline. That's insane. What if we fail?"

Caroline held her gaze. "What if we don't?"

Silence.

Max stared at her for a long moment.

Then she sighed deeply and slumped back in her chair.

"Ughhh. Fine. We go with Option 1."

Caroline fist-pumped the air. "YES."

Max groaned. "You better be right about this, Caroline. Because if we blow twenty grand and end up broke again, I'm selling my kidney, and I will blame you."

Caroline grinned. "Deal."

Max grabbed the notepad back. "Alright, genius. Where do we even find a place to rent?"

Caroline pulled out her phone. "That, my dear Max, is what Craigslist is for."

Max groaned again. "This is how people end up on Dateline."

[Later That Day – Operation 'Find a Place']

They spent three hours scouring rental listings.

Option 1: A warehouse that looked like it was used for serial killer training. (Pass.)

Option 2: A "cozy" basement kitchen that was actually just a laundry room with a hot plate. (Hard pass.)

Option 3: An actual commercial kitchen space, small but functional, with just enough room for two big ovens. (Ding ding ding!)

Price? $2,500 for the month.

Caroline beamed. "Perfect."

Max sighed. "Well. There goes our money."

Caroline clapped her hands together. "Max. We're about to become legit business owners. This is a tiny step toward world domination."

Max muttered, "More like a tiny step toward bankruptcy, but okay."

...

That night, they sat on their couch. There was still some time before their night shift at the diner.

They had officially rented a kitchen. They were buying industrial ovens tomorrow.

This was real.

Caroline leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "We're really doing this, huh?"

Max, chewing on a stolen diner cookie, nodded. "Yup. We're either about to become the next big thing… or the next big disaster."

Caroline smirked. "Either way, it's gonna be one hell of a ride."

Max raised her cookie like a toast. "To winging it."

Caroline clinked her water bottle against it.

"To making it."

...

[After their night shift]

The night shift at the diner had been relatively normal.

Which meant absolute chaos, but usual chaos.

Caroline had spent the last few hours dodging greasy pickup lines from drunk customers, while Max had nearly murdered a guy who tried to "accidentally" grab her ass while ordering pancakes.

(Spoiler: It did not end well for him. Han had to physically remove Max before she could beat the guy to death with a coffee pot.)

So by the time 11:25 PM rolled around, both Max and Caroline were exhausted.

Caroline slumped into a booth, burying her face into her arms. "Max," she groaned. "If one more man asks me if I'm on the menu, I swear I will set this place on fire."

Max, wiping down the counter, snorted. "Please do. I could use the insurance money."

Han, who had been eavesdropping as usual, called from the back. "If you two commit arson, make sure I'm on vacation first. That way, I'll have a proper alibi and it will be easier to get the insurance money."

"Duly noted," Max muttered.

Earl, the only other person in this place with common sense, was finishing up his closing duties by stacking boxes in the freezer. He glanced at Max. "Hey, can you check the freezer before you leave? I think Oleg moved some stuff around."

Max groaned but nodded. "Fine. But if I freeze to death in there, tell my mom I died a warrior's death."

Earl gave her a thumbs-up.

Caroline waved a hand lazily. "Good luck not becoming a popsicle."

Max rolled her eyes and trudged toward the freezer, completely unaware that she was about to stumble upon something that would haunt her forever.

She shivered the second she stepped inside. "God, why is it always colder than Satan's heart in here?"

She moved a few boxes aside, rearranging the stacks of frozen burger patties and sauce containers. Just as she was about to leave—

She heard something.

A rustling noise.

Coming from behind the giant stack of tomato sauce boxes.

Max froze.

Her brain immediately ran through every possible explanation.

A rat. (Gross, but manageable.) A burglar. (Why would someone rob a freezer?) A ghost. (She was not emotionally prepared for this option.)

Slowly, cautiously, Max peeked around the boxes.

And that's when she saw it.

Oleg.

Hunched over.

Hiding like a goblin planning world domination.

Max screamed.

Oleg screamed back.

Max grabbed the closest thing, a frozen loaf of bread, and launched it at his face. Oleg ducked, narrowly avoiding the frozen loaf of bread that crashed into the shelves behind him.

"What the hell, Oleg?!" Max shouted, pressing a hand to her chest. "Why are you hiding in the damn freezer like some kind of freakish meat goblin?"

Oleg, rubbing his face from the near-bread assault, grinned. "I was looking for my special cinnamon oil. Earl misplaced it. I need it for… important business."

Max narrowed her eyes. "Important business? What the hell do you need cinnamon oil for at..." She glanced at her watch. "...11:30 at night?"

Oleg waggled his eyebrows. "For a night of passion, my dear Max. I have hired two lovely ladies for a fun time, and I want everything to be perfect. The scent of cinnamon is very arousing, you know."

Max gagged. "Oh my god, I did NOT need to know that. Why would you say that to me?!"

Oleg chuckled. "Would you like to join? You are very beautiful. I think you would—"

Max immediately picked up another frozen loaf of bread. "Finish that sentence and I swear to god I will beat you to death with this."

Oleg held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! No need for violence! But you can't blame me for asking."

Max pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Yes, I absolutely can. I blame you for everything."

Just then, the freezer door swung open, and Caroline poked her head in. "Max? You good? You were gone for a while, and I—" She stopped mid-sentence, taking in the scene.

Max, standing there with a frozen loaf of bread raised like a weapon.

Oleg, looking suspiciously guilty and slightly too smug for someone who just got attacked with baked goods.

Caroline sighed. "I don't even wanna know."

Max jabbed a finger toward Oleg. "He was hiding in the freezer. Like a freak. Looking for cinnamon oil for his..." She shuddered. "...night of passion."

Caroline groaned. "Goddammit, Oleg."

Oleg just shrugged. "What? A man has needs."

Max turned to Caroline, her expression deadpan. "This is why we need to get rich. So I never have to work here again."

Caroline nodded. "Agreed. Let's get out of here before we lose any more brain cells."

As they walked out, Oleg called after them, "If you change your mind, Max, there is always room for one more!"

Max, without turning around, chucked another frozen loaf of bread over her shoulder. It hit Oleg square in the face.

Caroline clapped her on the back. "That was beautiful."

Max sighed. "Let's go."

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[9 advance chs] [All chs available for all tiers]