I don’t expect you to forgive me my cruelty but hope that it can set your heart to rest as I know it had such a terrible impact on you. I hope you can find it in your heart to understand that the actions of a child are no reflection on the intentions of the adult. I’d like very much if one day perhaps we could even become friends. And whatever you do, please do not blame Sawyer, as he’s been nothing but a gentleman toward me and in his actions toward you.
Warmly,
Amelie
Well, huh. What was she to do with this information? How do you go from hating someone deep in your bones to feeling as if you should have at the very least some modicum of empathy for them?
And then she noticed a photograph must have fallen to the floor when she opened the envelope. She picked it up and stared at what was the most beautiful, elaborate, heartfelt cake she could have ever imagined. It was a breathtaking golden carriage, surrounded by a forest full of edible storybook princesses, including Cinderella with her missing glass slipper, Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and even the princess from Aladdin, all in edible splendor. All made with Isabella in mind. So this was the cake she hadn’t seen for her birthday...
She picked up her tiny kitten and placed her in the cat bed Sawyer had brought for her, then went where she always used to go when she needed good advice.
~*~
“So you remember when you sent me to that boarding school where the kids were so cruel? And that horrid girl, Amelie? And then that Sawyer who came back?” Isabella’s eyes welled up as she spoke. She wished she had the kitten with her for comfort.
“Of course, dear.” Ariana nodded. “And he’s the chef with the whole cake disaster.”
Isabella nodded, starting to sob. “It’s all glopped together like a huge snowball that starts out at the top of the mountain as snow but then gets piled high with rocks and twigs and all sorts of unwanted mess as it barrels downhill. Sawyer and Amelie and I don’t know who I’m supposed to like and not like and who I should have feelings for or if I should even have feelings for them. Him. Ohhh—”
“Oh, poor dear,” her mother said, pulling her daughter into her arms. “It’s hard with all of these old feelings being resurrected, isn’t it?”
Bella nodded, sniffling.
“And here you thought they were such bad people but now you find out that they aren’t at all after you’d built them up as monsters in your head.”
“Yeah.” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.
“And you think it’s somehow betraying your feelings by changing how you feel? Is that it?”
Isabella shrugged. “I don’t know, Mum. I just don’t know.”
“So is this more about Sawyer or about Amelie?”
Isabella frowned. “Well, the thing is, I’ve tried really hard to keep Sawyer at bay. He’s totally wrong for me and he’d be a constant reminder of all those things.”
“But would he?” her mother asked. “Seems to be he’s done plenty to right his wrongs with you. So at what point does the balance shift? Do you stay mad forever at something that happened a lifetime ago, even if now this person has shown repeatedly to have your best interests at heart?”
“But maybe he’s really just a jerk.” Isabella was reaching for straws and she knew it.
“Well, if by trying hard to apologize and make up for past wrongs is being a jerk, then perhaps it’s time for you to reevaluate your vocabulary a bit. Because from what I’ve seen and heard, it sounds to me like if anything, you’ve wronged him by causing him to lose business after your tirade, but he’s only tried to be upstanding and honest with you.”
Isabella buried her face in her mother’s neck and sobbed.
“You know it’s not too late to fix things, darling.”
Bella nodded.
“Is it that you don’t know how to begin?”
Bella nodded again, her sobs softening.
“I don’t like to meddle in my children’s affairs,” she said, “but perhaps a tiny bit of intervention might be in order. Though what you do with it will be up to you. Understand?”
Bella sighed. She couldn’t imagine what her mother could do to help make things right, but she just felt stymied about how to go about it on her own. The whole thing was exhausting, so for now, she’d just leave it to fate.
Chapter Forty-One
Sawyer looked at the calendar of upcoming catering gigs and fretted. His bookings had definitely begun to decline. Granted some of that was seasonal, but by now he should be booked solid for the upcoming wedding season, and he was getting worried. That should have been his bread and butter to carry him through the year, and without that, he was in trouble.
Unless things changed soon, he was going to have to start laying off staff, most of whom had been with DaVinci’s for many years. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He pulled out a calculator and started to crunch numbers, trying to figure out if he could simply break even and worry about profits next year. By then, all the drama of recent months might have blown over for good. At least, he hoped it would.
He buried his face in his hands. How had it come to this? He’d tried so hard to just hunker down and work. And then with Isabella, well, there was no way he could control her. He had to just walk away from that and see if she could find it in her heart to come around at some point. It would take a bit of maturity on her part to finally let go of her past. Who knew if she was even capable of that?
His cell phone broke the silence of his frustration. He grabbed it and answered.
“Sawyer Patterson.”
There was silence on the other end until he heard a male voice. “Will you accept a call from Her Majesty Queen Ariana?”
Sawyer’s eyes opened wide. The queen? Huh? “Uh, you’re sure you have the right number?”
“Yes,” the man said. “You’re the pastry chef?”
Oh, man. Please, don’t tell me Ariana’s got her mother calling to yell at me for upsetting her daughter. That would be a very pampered princess thing to do.
“Yeah. Of course. I can speak with her.” But then he panicked—what was he supposed to call her? Her Majesty? Is that too weird? I mean how does one consider herself majestic? She’s a person, for God’s sake. Royal Highness seems less fawning. Although not by much.
The line was silent for a moment, then Isabella’s mum got on the line.
“Hello, Sawyer,” she said. “This is Isabella’s mother calling.”
Sawyer had to laugh—it sounded like a mum calling for a playdate when put like that.
“Ma’am. I mean Your Majestic Highness. I mean Your Majesty.”
She laughed. “Not to worry, everyone gets confused about the titles. Why don’t you just call me Ariana?”
Sawyer’s eyes opened wide. On a first-name basis with the queen? How weird was that? And oh would his parents have been livid. Which made him smile, because to hell with his shite father. Not that his opinion ever amounted to anything good in the world, anyhow. The old man had been so worried about hating others yet he turned out to be the most hateful of them all.
“All right, then. Uh, Ariana,” he said. “To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?”
He figured a little suck-up might not be a bad thing right about now.
“We’re having a little party at the palace. It’s the Royal Legal Aid Society Annual Ball, and this year it’s a masquerade theme,” she said. “And most of it will be catered by the palace kitchen staff.”
Including none other than Louie, curse him.
“However, I’d love to have a particular cake made for the occasion. It’s for a very special young woman I think you know.”
“Um, well, okay, then,” he said. “You want to give me a clue as to what type of cake you’d like?”
“Surprise me,” she said. “Better yet, surprise her.”
~*~
Sawyer hadn’t a clue what type of cake he was supposed to make for this event. Other than ensuring it was not at all easily misconstrued as anything t
o do with a part of the male anatomy. That was a given. But aside from that, sheesh. He’d already killed himself making the quintessential cake for Isabella’s birthday. He was a little gun-shy about getting that elaborate again. Besides, he didn’t have time: the event was three days away. He went to bed that night and tossed and turned the whole night trying to come up with the perfect idea. But he was out of good ideas as far as Isabella was concerned. He’d kind of given it all he’d had, starting with that birthday cake that wasn’t meant to be, and ending with the kitten, who he’d hoped would have warmed up Isabella’s heart a little bit to make room for him.
But he’d not heard a thing from her, so he assumed that meant no-go. Which he could deal with. Well, actually, who was he fooling? He was really upset about it. Isabella was kind of the perfect woman for him: kind, beautiful, amazing in bed. What more could he ask for in a woman? If anything, her princess status was the deal breaker. Because something about that seemed to be the root cause of her choice to shun him. He sure didn’t understand it but it was nothing he could control. The only thing left to give Isabella at this point was himself. And he thought he’d made it clear to her that he was willing to do so. But maybe he hadn’t been clear enough.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Are you sure we have to wear masks to this thing tonight?” Clementine asked Isabella. She’d just left Sebastian to get his tux on and she and Isabella were dressing at the palace.
“Positive,” she said. “Mum was adamant about it. And you don’t want to cross my mother.”
Clementine laughed. “If Ariana’s not happy, ain’t nobody happy.”
They giggled, and the kitten must have found amusement in that because she came charging their feet out of nowhere, jumping around like a crazy creature.
“She is the funniest thing. Adorable as they come,” Clem said, pulling her gown out of its protective carrying bag. “So... you have make-up sex with Sawyer yet? I’d say that kitten is worth a couple of rounds.”
Isabella playfully smacked her on the arm. “It’s not like that.”
“What do you mean it’s not like that?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just, well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“For starters, the two of you get naked,” Clem said.
“Stop it! I know what to do there,” Bella said. “I just don’t know what to do about Sawyer in general.”
“What’s it going to take, Bell? I mean the guy’s over the moon for you. Surely you know that.”
“Yeah, but I feel sort of stupid at this point. Like it’s too late now. I just dragged my feet and now it feels weird to go backward.” Isabella slipped her ball gown on over her updo, trying to keep her coiffed hair intact.
“Well, then go forward. It’s not that hard to do,” Clementine said. “I feel like this is my cue to break out into a song that encourages you to do this, like on some children’s television special.”
“Maybe that’s what I need, some cartoon support.”
“What you need is what my father used to call a swift kick in the arse, young lady.”
“Your father never kicked you!”
“Of course not! He was referring to what the horses would do if you weren’t careful in the barn.”
“So I should get kicked in the butt by my horse?”
“No,” Clem said. “You should do what I said and go have make-up sex with the man and we’ll all live happily ever after.”
“Now that sounds like a children’s storybook.”
“There’s a pattern here,” Clem said. “The point is I’m passing on advice that has been handed down to women with blinders on for millennia, whether through television or books or I don’t know, comic books even.”
Isabella helped Clem fasten her gown: an ivory silk, jewel-over-tulle, ankle-length number with a lace illusion overlay, cinched at the waist with a satin band. With her slender neck and narrow lines, she was a veritable blonde version of Audrey Hepburn.
Clementine helped Isabella put on her tiara while Bella helped Clem with a rose gold lariat necklace that ended in a diamond solitaire direct from the palace’s Crown Jewels.
“Ooh, I love this necklace,” Clem said as she added the coordinating earrings. Instead of a necklace, Isabella had chosen pink diamond teardrop earrings, which showcased her pale pink strapless, floor-length tulle ball gown. Once Bella slipped on her Christian Louboutin white lace pumps, she spread her skirt out in front of the mirror.
“What do you think?”
“I think I wish Sawyer would be at the party so you could slip away from the party and have the best make-up sex ever,” she said. “You look absolutely breathtaking.”
“You totally have sex on the brain, you know that?”
“Yeah, well, it’s just that I’ve been having plenty of it with Sebastian and now I know what you’re missing out on.”
“Let’s not worry about Sawyer,” Isabella said. “Let’s just go have fun at this party.”
“You sure I have to wear a mask, though?”
~*~
Sawyer had put the finishing touches on his cake, hoping to God it was going to be well received by the audience for whom it was intended. It was the best he could do, and if this wasn’t good enough, well, he’d given it all he had.
This time, he loaded it in the truck himself to assure it was the correct cake and drove the truck to the palace... and personally escorted the thing to where it would be brought out. He halfway wished he’d brought along a guard dog to watch over it. Maybe Clementine’s ferocious beast of a dog would do the trick.
Thank goodness Clementine told Sawyer it was a black-tie event. Otherwise, he’d have been the only one there in a black chef’s coat instead, sticking out like a sore thumb. What she failed to tell him, however, was that he was going to have to wear a mask. And he felt like a complete idiot doing so. Who came up with these dumb ideas for parties, anyhow? Sure enough, as he arrived at the palace, he was handed a mask and told that everyone—guests and staff alike—would be wearing them, on orders of the queen, who apparently loved a good masquerade. Even though Sawyer thought a good masquerade was an oxymoron.
He wheeled the cake through the service kitchen, passing by Louie as he went.
“Don’t even go within a hundred feet of this thing,” he said to his former sous chef, half joking.
Once he got the cake set up as the centerpiece of the dessert table, his work was essentially done. Following a cocktail hour, he found his place card and sat down at a table that included Gabriella, Edouardo, and Amelie. Thank goodness he’d have familiar people to talk to.
It was a nice change to be seated during a large catered event, rather than sweating in the kitchen or running around in a frenzy trying to put out occasionally literal and often figurative fires. Instead, he enjoyed a sumptuous five-course meal paired with the best European wines and champagnes.
After dinner, a twenty-piece orchestra played and many couples got up to dance. Which left Sawyer there with Amelie, who looked beautiful in a red silk crepe one-shouldered gown with a ruffled neckline. He held out his hand and asked her to join him on the dance floor.
It was strange, twirling around a dance floor with a mask on, not knowing, though suspecting, who other guests were who were also hidden. All night long, Sawyer had kept his eyes out for Isabella, but so far he hadn’t recognized which masked woman she was. With hundreds of guests, it was easy to get lost in the crowd, even for a princess.
After a few dances with Amelie, Clementine came and passed Sebastian off to Amelie so that she could have a turn with Sawyer.
“You doing okay?” she asked him.
He nodded. “This is all a little out of my league, but I’m fine.”
“You look totally hot,” she said, tugging on his lapels. “I always love a man in formal wear.”
“I wish it was you I was trying to impress,” he said.
Just then, Isabella, dancing with a tall, redheaded man, passed
by. Before Sawyer knew what was happening, Clementine cut in on Isabella and took the hand of her dance partner while passing Sawyer’s hand on to Bella’s.
And with that, Sawyer settled into Isabella’s arms, hoping like hell she had no plans to ambush him and have him taken away.
Chapter Forty-Three
Isabella had danced with several very eligible young men, most of them successful barristers, none of whom excited her particularly. It was another day at the office, as it were. Only a much fancier office, in her case.
For a moment, she wondered what it would be like if she’d had the courage to reach out to Sawyer and had invited him to be her guest for this ball. She’d thought about it too many times to remember. But somehow, she just couldn’t muster the bravery to do it.
Every night, she’d fallen asleep with that sweet kitten curled up next to her, and she’d think about how much she’d rather be curled up with Sawyer—well, maybe with the kitten as well. Somehow, she’d wedged herself into a hole she couldn’t get out of. And now, here she was stuck with a succession of perfectly nice-but-not-Sawyer men, all petitioning to dance with her. She’d grown a little weary of sweaty palms and lack of rhythm at this point. But then she saw Clementine, and before she could even say a thing, Clementine had switched dance partners with her.
And here she found herself in the very capable the arms of Sawyer Patterson. She’d recognize the man anywhere, mask or not. Her hands had roamed over his body enough to know it the minute they were on him, and that mouth, well, she’d memorized it whether she wanted to admit it or not.
But finding herself in his arms made her feel shy. As he clasped her hand with his and positioned his arm around her waist, she could feel herself melting into his touch. She glanced up at him and he smiled, and all of her worries seemed to disappear.
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