Boxed Set: The Baker & the Billionaire

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Boxed Set: The Baker & the Billionaire Page 12

by Nikki Steele


  She shrugged. “It makes no difference to me.” But then she paused. “What I want to know is, what do you have on him?”

  I looked at her, momentarily taken aback. “What I have on him?”

  “Yes. He’s one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen. You’re… well anyway, what is it? Did he get you pregnant? Was he drunk?”

  I stared at her, aghast. “Is it so hard to believe that he might actually find me attractive?”

  She shrugged again.

  I stood up. “You’re such a bitch. Do you really think-”

  She held up her hands. “Hey, I’m not saying it isn’t good, believe me. You go girl.”

  The conversation was taking so many turns I was getting dizzy. I sat back down. “What?”

  “Well think about it,” she said. “He’s got plenty of money, doesn’t he? I mean, he flew you home at the snap of his fingers, then flew you back. Everybody knows he’s a billionaire or something. He could make life very comfortable for me.”

  “For you,” I said, standing again.

  She nodded, either not hearing or not caring about the tone of my voice. “Of course. We can leverage your relationship for sponsorship for a start. Then there’s the fact that he’s a judge—I wouldn’t want him to influence any decisions directly of course, but the inside scoop on what he’s looking for would be very helpful.”

  “Get out,” I said, quivering with rage. I pointed at the door. “Get out and don’t come back until you realize what you just said.”

  She looked at me as if not understanding what the big deal was. “I’m not going to get out, because it’s my house. You’re my assistant, remember? But I do need to get to training.” She walked up the stairs, leaving her bag behind. “Get that laundry done while I’m out, will you?” she called down after herself.

  Chapter 2

  Erica wasn’t doing well in the trials, and with it her normally ‘rosy’ disposition plummeted even further. Everything was a threat, everyone around her was trying to hold her back or hurt her chances of making the team. Including me, of course.

  “Did you intentionally not include enough protein in my post-workout snack, or are you really that forgetful?” she snarled. It had been a trying two days since our argument about Jax.

  “I’m sorry. I packed two hard-boiled eggs, sliced turkey and cheese. Isn’t that normally enough?”

  “Then why am I losing, Libby?” she spat. “You know that when I crank up for comps I need more protein. It’s not as if this is the first time we’ve been through this, you know.”

  I bit my tongue. She was under a lot of stress right now. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe you don’t want me to win a spot on the team.”

  “Oh, come on, Erica! This is too much, even for you,” I said, exasperated.

  “If I don’t win a spot on the team, you don’t have to come to the games with me. And it means you and Stephen could be together, too. I noticed you haven’t given me his contact details yet.”

  I crossed my arms. “There is no way I’m giving those details to you.”

  “So you do want me to lose!” she cried, a note of hysterics in her voice.

  I fought to keep my own voice level. “Erica, I love you. It’s why I’m here. And I want you to win, very much. But,” I held up a finger, “I will not let you pull Jax into this. And I will not ask him to compromise his morals for the sake of your career.”

  “Fine!” she said, storming out. “If you won’t help, I’ll just handle things myself!” The door slammed hard, behind her.

  I sighed. There was no way on this earth that I would let her meet Jax again. She’d destroyed that right years ago, when she stole my first love away from me, then again when I’d seen that look in her eyes at my parents. The look that said she’d found something she wanted… I wish I had a higher opinion of her than I did, but the proof was in the pudding, as my Grandma always said.

  Anyway, all that was beside the point right now. Even if I’d wanted Jax and Erica to meet, they couldn’t. I hadn’t heard from him since the flight home, and I was starting to get worried.

  All of the old feelings came back. The feeling that I’d never measure up—that I would never be as pretty, or skinny, or sexy. I was always in the background, always being overlooked or forgotten about as soon as something better came along. I was never enough for anybody… not even for myself.

  Those feelings brought old urges back, too. I wanted to eat something. Anything. Not because I was hungry. Rather, when I ate, I didn’t have to think. Eating made me numb, if only for a little while. I didn’t have to worry about my sister, or my looks, or the fact that Jax still hadn’t called—anything but that next bite of food. I could fill myself up and not be empty anymore.

  I’d feel ten times worse when I was done. But that brief moment of comfort—I walked out into the fresh cold air and gripped the railing with trembling fingers. I wouldn’t. I was stronger than this. For now.

  * * *

  I waited by the finish line for Erica’s run to start. It was an important one; there were only two trials left—today and tomorrow—with which to make the Olympic team.

  The first day I’d waited by the finish line, I’d been excited; I remembered holding my breath as Erica crossed. Today though, I was going through the motions. I couldn’t wait for this to be over already.

  It wasn’t that I wished Erica bad luck or a poor run. Far from it; though she’d been performing progressively worse—and therefore had been becoming progressively more horrible toward me—I still wanted to see her succeed. It would be the ultimate tragedy if all of the hard work we’d done to get Erica this far had been for nothing.

  But I still couldn’t get a hold of Jax. He wasn’t scheduled to officiate until tomorrow, and it wasn’t as if we had made a habit of communicating constantly, but it was strange that I hadn’t heard from him for several days now. I wanted to hear his voice, and to know that he still liked me. No, not wanted. Needed.

  Erica’s abuse had been spiraling out of control, and there were only so many times I could be yelled at, or told I was fat, or useless, before her comments started to take effect. I knew that it was just because she was losing. I knew that when this was all over she’d get better. But in the meantime I was quickly losing the battle between logic and self-confidence, and the urge to binge eat was getting stronger.

  What if Jax wasn’t interested in me anymore? He was surrounded by athletes, and snow bunnies, and women much younger, and prettier than me. I’d always really known I was a charity case, hadn’t I? What if he moved on to better things? What if that better thing was Erica? It was only with a heroic effort that I kept myself standing at the finish line. Erica’s run was next, and I wanted to eat so badly right now.

  * * *

  For the first time since arriving, Erica didn’t make the top four. She’d faltered as she came over the final rise, a stumble that had added seconds to her time, pushing her to an all-time low. She wasn’t out of the team, not yet. But if she didn’t perform well tomorrow… I closed my eyes when I looked up at the leaderboard. It was going to be a long, hard night.

  There was a press conference after the competition, held in the ballroom of the Lodge. The room was packed from wall to wall with skiers, trainers, reporters and sponsors. I slipped into the room holding a chocolate bar, just as it was about to get started.

  At previous conferences, Erica had been a media favorite. She was talented, yes, but she was also bright and photogenic. She had that All-American look about her, the complete package, and the press loved her. I wrung my hands as I waited for the conference to start. How would she handle her loss today?

  Sure enough, the first question was for her. “You were previously a favorite to win this competition—how do you think you went on the slope today?” The cameras began to click as the reporter sat back down.

  I held my breath.

  Erica leaned into the mic with a smi
le. “Obviously I could have done better, Richard,” she said, addressing the reporter by name. “But tomorrow’s another day, and I’m confident I’ll make the team.”

  My breath let out with a whoosh. I had to give it to her—she was great with the media. One of the reasons she was so popular with the sponsors.

  Another reporter stood up. “Can you walk us through how you’re going to prepare for tomorrow? Any secret strategies you’d care to share?”

  Erica smiled again. “Well I don’t believe in superstition, so lucky charms are out,” she said, drawing a laugh from the crowd. It was the perfect, diplomatic response. I scowled. Why couldn’t she be that nice to me, her own sister?

  “As for what I’ll be doing,” she said her eyes scanning the room before finally finding me. “I think dinner is probably on the cards.” People turned to follow her eyes. I felt exposed, and yet strangely flattered.

  “My sister and I—we’ve had our disagreements these last few days, and I think it’s time I finally did something about that.”

  She drew a deep breath, and flashed a smile at the audience, drawing them back to her. “So I’ll be having dinner with someone I don’t know nearly as well as I would like, but who I plan to spend a lot of time getting to know better.”

  Warmth began to spread through me. Erica appreciated me, and she’d just told the whole world. I dropped the chocolate bar as I slipped from the crowd. I had a dinner to prepare!

  Chapter 3

  I was in a frenzy back at the cabin, but for the first time in days, it was a happy one. This could be the start of something new for my sister and I.

  We’d been at odds for far too long; all this time, with me thinking she was against me. I’d feared she was deliberately sabotaging my life, but that, I now realized, was as ridiculous as Erica’s paranoia about me trying to sabotage hers.

  Brian had just been teenage stupidity. Her comments about Jax had just been stress after the trials. Erica understood the value of what I brought to her life. I knew now that this was all I’d ever wanted.

  I couldn’t wait to sit with her over dinner and just… talk. She wouldn’t have a glass of wine, of course, and she couldn’t stay up late with the final trials tomorrow, but still… just the chance to, well, be sisters again. It was clear that we had a lot to catch up on.

  While I waited for her return, I made dinner for the two of us. I concocted a marinade of olive oil, chili, garlic paste and lime juice, placing chicken breasts to soak up its flavor until it was time to grill.

  Next I started on the brown rice, and after that I whipped up a homemade salsa. I put it in the fridge to chill, along with a ripe avocado that I would slice just before we sat down to eat.

  Now all I needed was my sister.

  Two hours later, she still hadn’t appeared. I sent her a text, asking if she’d been caught up, and half an hour after that tried to call her, too. The phone rang out, and when I tried to call again, it switched straight to voicemail. She’d turned the phone off.

  She had a competition tomorrow. She wouldn’t have gone to a bar, would she?

  I paced the living room, my tension growing with each passing minute. After everything she had said today, too. Why would she do this to me?

  Maybe she’d met up with a sponsor; they’d offered to take her to dinner, or something. That made sense, though I still didn’t know why she hadn’t called. Perhaps she hadn’t had the time?

  After another hour had passed, and I’d eaten my solitary dinner, I knew I was only making excuses for her. Her sweet words had been an act, engineered to endear the media to her. When would I ever learn? The mountain had excellent cell coverage. Even if it was a sponsor, or a bar, there was only one reason why she wouldn’t have called. It was because she didn’t care.

  At 10 o’clock I cleaned the kitchen. I took one more look out the window, then turned out the light and went to bed.

  * * *

  When I woke the following morning, I was surprised to find that Erica’s bed hadn’t been slept in. Though I’d been angry the night before, now I began to worry. Erica wasn’t the sort person to let loose and not bother coming home. Especially when she had her final trials today. I called her cell again, but just like the night before, it went straight to voicemail.

  Anything could have happened to her. She could have been kidnapped, or waylaid, or—oh god—maybe she was lying dead in a ditch somewhere! So many people passed through all the time, and she was a celebrity. Could one of them have become obsessed and attacked her?

  I forced myself to stop thinking like that. I watched far too many made-for-TV movies. Erica had only been gone for one night—less than 12 hours.

  So what, then? Had she shacked up with one of the other athletes, or some random fan staying at the resort? Maybe she’d had too much to drink; after all, she wasn’t used to it. Maybe she’d needed to sleep it off.

  I shook my head, disappointment mixing with the worry that still lingered. She could have let me know. She should at least have given me that consideration. This was what Erica always did. In fact, I didn’t know why I was so surprised. She’d get everybody around her all worked up, then waltz in and act as though they were the crazy ones for ever worrying.

  I caught my own eye while brushing my teeth, and saw a haunted look there. Erica wasn’t the only one missing. I hadn’t heard from Jax in days. Had it been a mistake to take him back and meet the parents? I suddenly felt sick to my stomach—I’d scared him off. He didn’t want to be serious with me, and was afraid I’d caught feelings.

  It didn’t matter, I told myself as I got dressed. After all, once the competition was over, Jax and I were over. I’d be leaving, and even if we did want to continue something, he was still an Olympic judge. If Erica got a place on the Olympic team, we couldn’t be together. And if she didn’t? We had no reason to ever meet again anyway—Erica trained on a different slope. My home town was a State away. Maybe it was better to get him out of my heart now, rather than waiting until we left for home.

  I looked at the food in the fridge, and then picked up the keys and walked out the door. Muesli wasn’t going to cut it on a morning like this—I needed bacon and eggs.

  * * *

  Erica was fine and I was better off this way. Erica was fine and I was better off this way. This was my mantra as I drove to the store. It lasted until I made it to the stack of newspapers by the automatic sliding doors. And then suddenly the mantra faltered.

  For the first time in my life, I was guilty of stealing. I took a paper and went back to the car, sliding in and shutting the door. I didn’t realize what I was doing. I was simply in shock.

  There, on the front page, was a photo of Erica standing by the front door of a familiar-looking mansion. Beside it was another photo of a familiar-looking man inviting Erica into his home. The headline read: OLYMPIC-SIZED ROMANCE?

  I couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in my ears. The edges of my vision were darkening, and I wondered vaguely if I was about to faint. I could feel my eyes start to get red and glassy. Then tears began to spill silently down my cheeks.

  She’d even told me—I’d just been too blind to notice. We’ve had our disagreements, and I think it’s time I finally did something about that. She hadn’t been talking about dinner with me at the press conference. She’d been talking about Jax.

  She wanted to get to know him better. I was so stupid. Why would she ever want to have dinner with her sister, when she could sleep with one of the judges? I’d been so desperate to believe in my own value, that I’d filled in the blanks myself.

  I folded the newspaper very neatly and put it on the seat beside me. She had taken him from me, just like the last time. And what was worse, I’d thought he was better than that. I didn’t know who had hurt me more, and suddenly I didn’t care. All I knew was that it was possible to feel physical pain when your heart breaks.

  I didn’t have it in me to scream. I wasn’t even angry, really—the hurt ran too deep for
that. I would always come second to Erica. I would never be enough for any man. I wiped the tears from my eyes and put on sunglasses, then got out of the car once more.

  I pulled out a small cart as I walked into the grocery store, then began grabbing foods at random, one after the other, off the shelf. At the prepared foods section I filled a takeaway container with shrimp lo mein. I filled another with pasta salad, and a third with macaroni and cheese.

  In the dairy section I pulled out a large container of rice pudding. Chocolate milk. Whipped cream. Two aisle down I grabbed three bags of chips and a jar of salsa. A bag of cookies.

  When I reached the bakery I stopped; the sight of those chocolate croissants made me want to pull the tray from the case and smash it on the floor. Instead, I filled a bag with assorted muffins, and another with assorted donuts.

  I did it all on autopilot. I wasn’t thinking about any of it, just grabbing whatever looked good in the moment. None of it mattered, nothing I ever did mattered. I was empty, as I’d always been. I needed this. I needed all of it. I’d feel better once I was finished.

  I ate a cheese danish as I drove back to the cabin.

  Inside, I laid my food out on the kitchen counter like a buffet for one. I saw it, but I didn’t really see it. It was flavorless, but it wouldn’t stop me from eating all of it. Not when I felt like this.

  Chapter 4

  I had polished off half of the lo mein, shoveling it into my mouth so fast it hurt to swallow, when there was a knock at the front door. I froze, fork poised in midair. That familiar feeling of guilt and shame swept over me as it always did. I’d been found out.

  Maybe I wouldn’t answer the door. I wanted to be alone, anyway. I took another bite of food, determined to ignore whoever it was. But then I heard a voice.

 

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