“I already told you. It isn’t about the money. I haven’t even given it a moment’s thought.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t my fault. Not thinking about money at all was a challenge when I was being driven around in a limousine all the time and taken to fancy restaurants.
“Maybe you should just ask him.”
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with that, but I’ll give it some consideration.”
“The important thing is that you’re still alive,” Beth said, “but if you ever go that long without calling me again, I’ll kill you.”
“It’s a deal,” I told her. Once Dom left for Europe, I’d have plenty of free time on my hands.
Chapter Fourteen
Once Beth was assured that I was fine, despite the intense media coverage of my brand new relationship, she began getting antsy to get back to the bakery. It would have been fine, except she wanted me to come, too.
Even though I had sunk just as much cash into the bakery as my sister had, I was a silent partner for a reason. I didn’t mind visiting my investment, and I didn’t care if it never paid dividends as long as Beth was happy.
Helping out was another matter. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was breaking eggs, stirring batter and kneading dough. That was three things, but it could all be summed up in one sentence. I hate to bake.
“Come on,” Beth pleaded. “My car’s parked right outside, and you said Dom is busy for the rest of the day with his mysterious business meeting. I have to get back to the bakery. You know those part timers barely know what’s what.”
“Maybe you should think about training them appropriately,” I said. “If your hired help isn’t meeting up to your standards, I’m pretty sure that’s on you.” I could tell where this was headed. Beth wasn’t about to stop until she got my hands dirty.
“At least come with me. We can talk and hang out while I work.” Beth knew she could wear me down if she whined long enough. “You don’t have to lift a finger.”
There was nothing more compelling than the sound of Beth’s whine, even though I was sure she was lying about not putting me to work. Nothing made her happier than seeing me with flour in my hair and chocolate ganache under my fingernails.
“Fine,” I said. “Give me a chance to get dressed.” I headed for the bedroom and slipped on something comfortable.
“I don’t even care if you wear sweatpants and a t-shirt,” Beth called from the other room.
“I’m way ahead of you,” I shouted back.
Ready in record time, I locked the door and followed Beth to her little hatchback. I sighed. “I really do have to work on getting my car back before Dom leaves for Europe,” I said. “Maybe I have been spoiled by all the limo rides.”
“Next thing you know, you’ll be riding in a helicopter,” Beth said. She tossed her head back and laughed. Her laugh reminded me of our mother.
“I don’t think so. Have you ever seen a rock star in a helicopter?”
“Well, I don’t think they’re specifically excluded from riding in helicopters. So, I guess you never know,” Beth mused as she pulled carefully into traffic. “Does he have a private jet?”
“I have no idea. He hasn’t mentioned it, and I never thought to ask.”
I could see that her knuckles were white, and she held her breath until we had safely joined the flow of the other moving cars on the road.
We talked and laughed the entire ride from my house to the bakery. When we got there, Beth parked in the very same spot whence my car had been towed. It was another reminder that I needed to take care of business.
I didn’t mention it to Beth, but I could really use a few bucks to take care of the bills this month. After our parents had died, we had both received modest settlements for our various injuries, but mine was long gone. I looked at Beth. Nothing was more important to me than her happiness.
My older sister had been so brave following the accident, even when the doctors told her that her internal injuries were severe enough that they’d had to perform an emergency hysterectomy to stop her from hemorrhaging to death.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine how she really felt about my pregnancy. It must be hard for her to handle, but she’d handled it better than I had from the very beginning. At least we were on the same page now. She was going to make a great aunt.
“You know,” I said softly. “Just because you can’t carry a baby yourself doesn’t mean you can’t be a mother someday. You can use a gestational carrier, or you can adopt.”
She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “The bakery is my baby,” she said. “I think a gestational carrier uses your own eggs, and I don’t have those anymore. Maybe you meant to say a surrogate.”
“To be honest with you, I don’t really know all the correct terms for it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything anyhow.” I patted her hand. “Let’s go inside. I’ll even help you frost cupcakes.”
Beth tried to put on a brave face. “There’s more to Sweets for the Sweet than frosting cupcakes,” she said.
We got out of the car and went inside the bakery. Beth’s newest employee was engaged in a conversation with a handsome man in an expensive business suit.
“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s a lot of cupcakes.” She looked longingly at her pink cell phone, which was sitting just out of reach on the counter. No doubt there was some text message, tweet or Instagram post waiting for her rapt attention.
“Well, aren’t they for sale?” he asked. “This is a bakery.”
The girl—I didn’t know her name—batted her eyes and twirled her long hair around one finger. “That’s a lot of cupcakes,” she said again.
Beth stepped up to the counter. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
The handsome man turned around and gave her a dazzling smile. “I was just telling your employee that I’d like to buy every cupcake you have available, but she was explaining to me that it might be too many cupcakes to sell at once.”
Beth laughed nervously. “She’s new,” Beth said. She turned to the girl. “From now on, if a customer wants to buy cupcakes, sell him cupcakes. We don’t make them just to put them on display.”
“Okay,” she said, unperturbed. “How many cupcakes did you say you wanted?”
“All of them,” he said.
“In a box?”
“Do you have a box big enough to fit all of them?” the man asked, teasing. He was a good sport.
She shook her head. It was obvious that she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She was probably itching to post a photo of him online. That was the likely reason she kept glancing at her cell phone. Look what came into the bakery today, she’d write, making all her teenage friends jealous.
“Then I’ll take as many boxes as it takes to get them all ready to go. I’d put them in my car directly on the seats, but then I’d have to scrub the frosting out of the upholstery.”
She nodded her head and started assembling boxes.
“I’m sorry,” Beth said. She was just as giddy and nervous as the teen behind the counter. “I’d be honored to have you take all my cupcakes whenever you want them.”
“Great,” the man said. He lowered his voice. “I’ll take your cookies, too.”
I decided to ask the question that was no doubt on everyone’s mind but no one wanted to ask. “What are you going to do with all those cupcakes?” I figured I had the right to ask since my contributions to the bakery’s finances meant I couldn’t even pay my own bills on time.
He turned his dazzling smile in my direction, reminding me of someone else I knew. “I’m bringing them to the homeless shelter.”
The girl behind the counter looked up from arranging cupcakes into neat rows inside cardboard boxes. “Is that what homeless people really need?” she asked. “I would think they need more important things than gourmet cupcakes.”
She instantly turned red as if she had realized too late that her question was bordering on rudeness.
“Fortunately, I’ve supplied those, too. I wholeheartedly agree that people need soap, shampoo, clean towels, clean clothes, bedding and healthy, nutritious food, but sometimes, you just need a cupcake. Do you know what I mean?’
The blushing teen didn’t even dare look at him. She just packed the cupcakes as fast as her long-nailed hands could manage.
As for Beth, she was practically swooning. “That’s great,” she said. “I’m so impressed that you’re helping people.” She seemed to think for a moment. “You know. I don’t really think I can take your money. It’s going to such a good cause.”
My heart sank. I knew that the bakery was struggling to stay above water as it was. Beth couldn’t afford to give away half her stock for free.
The man shook his head. “This isn’t charity,” he said. “It’s a business transaction. I’m not some kind of Robin Hood redistributing cupcakes from the haves to the have nots. I genuinely want to buy your cupcakes, support a small local business and bring happiness to some people who don’t get enough cupcakes in their daily lives.”
Beth stared at him with a growing smile on her face. “That’s amazing,” she said. “Thank you.”
“No,” he replied. “Thank you.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for so long that I thought they were going to kiss or spontaneously combust.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said. “But you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” I was fairly certain that I didn’t know him from anywhere. His was not the kind of face a girl forgets. I had to remind myself that I was practically a married woman.
“I am quite certain that we don’t know each other from anywhere,” he said. “However, I’ve definitely seen your face.”
“What is this?” I asked, trying to sound playful. “A riddle?”
“My apologies,” he said. “I should know better than to speak in riddles. My name is Lucas, and I believe you’re engaged to marry my brother, Dominic Angelchance.”
“Of course.” It made perfect sense. “You look exactly like the non-rock star version of Dom.”
The two men were nearly identical, plus or minus a business suit and tight leather pants.
“My name is Candy,” the girl behind the counter announced abruptly. “Do you think you could introduce me to Dominic?”
“No,” Lucas and I said at the same time.
Beth started to giggle like a schoolgirl.
Lucas handed her a wad of crisp hundred dollar bills. “Is that enough?” he asked.
“It’s too much,” Beth said. “Let me figure out the total, and I can get you some change.”
“Keep it. You obviously need it more than I do.” He turned to Candy and handed her a hundred dollar bill. “Here’s a tip for you,” he said. “Some men like a woman with a little meat on their bones.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. After tapping on his cellphone screen for a few seconds, he looked up at the door. Two men walked inside the bakery with hand trucks. “My guys will take it from here,” Lucas said.
The three of them loaded up the neatly boxed cupcakes and cookies and left without as much as a backwards glance.
“That was weird,” Candy said from her place behind the counter. “Do you think I’m too skinny?”
“Why don’t you go ahead and take the rest of the day off,” Beth said, taking inventory of her remaining stock. There wasn’t much left. “I think I’m going to close early today.”
Candy didn’t have to be told twice. She nearly skipped out the door.
From the glass window that lined the entire front of the bakery, we could see her looking around frantically for the handsome man with the pocketful of cash, but it was too late.
With her head hanging low in defeat, Candy walked back into the shop. “I forgot my purse,” she said. “And my keys.” She collected her things and left for the day.
“I guess someone made an impression on Candy,” I commented. “I’ve never seen her move that fast.”
“She hasn’t moved that fast since I hired her,” Beth said.
“Maybe Lucas should come here more often.”
Beth nodded her head in agreement. “I think I’d like that,” she said.
I had a feeling it had nothing to do with making her employee move a little faster. My sister was smitten. I could see it in her eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Dom is picking me up at seven, and I’m nowhere near ready.” Nervous knots tied themselves together in my stomach. It was still far too soon for the novelty to wear off. With Dom, I didn’t think the novelty would ever wear off. I was just as enamored of him as the moment we first kissed.
“You’re in luck,” Beth said. “I just happen to have the rest of the day off. Get your things, and I’ll take you home.”
We drove back to my place with the radio on low. Beth chattered during the entire ride about all the things she was going to do as part of her official aunt duties. If she accomplished even half of what she promised, I was going to have one totally spoiled child on my hands.
I smiled to myself as I listened to her chatter. She didn’t require much of a response from me as she detailed all the dolls, toy pirate ships, baseball outfits, frilly pink dresses, train sets and stuffed animals that she planned to put on layaway.
Beth was going to be more prepared than I was when this baby finally arrived.
“Slow down,” I said. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.”
“Don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Beth said. “There’s no reason why a boy can’t play with dolls or a girl can’t wear an adorable blue baseball jersey. Step into the twenty-first century.”
I knew that she was right, but I didn’t think that I would be completely comfortable dressing the baby in frilly pink dresses if it was a boy. Things weren’t quite that advanced just yet. Maybe someday.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” I said. “If I have a daughter, she can play with all the pirate ships and toy soldiers that she wants, but I draw the line at dressing my son in a pink dress.”
“Society is making progress,” Beth said. “Maybe someday.”
“That’s exactly what I was just thinking.” I fell silent while Beth ruminated about all the dance classes and soccer practice that she would be willing to drive my son or daughter to, and I could picture her happily cheering him or her on from the from row no matter what.
“I don’t know what to wear tonight,” I announced as soon as I was able to get a word in edgewise.
We were approaching the driveway of our childhood home—my current home—and I saw Beth wince as she turned the corner. The memories were so hard here, but I wished that Beth would see that the memories on the inside of the house more than made up for it. I was proud of her for overcoming her fears twice in one day.
She pulled up to the house without incident, and we went inside. Beth made a beeline for my bedroom and opened the closet. “You go take a shower while I pick out something for you to wear.” She had that no nonsense look on her face.
I obediently went into the bathroom, disrobed and took a hot shower, washing my hair almost absentmindedly while I thought about Dom. It was easy to imagine him in the tiny shower space with me, shampooing and conditioning my hair while teasing me with hot kisses on my wet skin.
The water turned cold. It was my cue to turn off the spray and finish getting ready. I toweled myself off and joined Beth in the bedroom.
“First of all, I don’t know if you typically wear panties when you go out with Dom, but these are adorable.” Beth held up a pair of lacy panties with ruffles that would hug the curves of my bum.
“I’ve never worn them,” I said. “They were a gift from Jeff.” I shook my head.
“Forget Jeff. I’ll bet they make your ass look perfect. Put them on.” Beth put one hand on her hip and extended the other hand with the panties.
I took the scrap
of ruffles and lace from her hand and put them on, turning my behind to the mirror to admire the effect. Beth was right. The sexy panties made my ass look like something out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog.
She handed me a push-up bra with a tiny bow in the center. “Make the most of what you’ve got.” She smirked, knowing full well that I was sensitive about my tiny breasts.
“Hey,” I protested. “We weren’t all blessed with huge breasts like yours.”
Beth blushed. “It isn’t such a blessing when I can’t cut my toenails or see my shoes.”
“I’m sure it’s not all bad,” I said. The brassiere pushed my smaller assets high and together, giving them a nice amount of cleavage. “Okay, I’m done,” I joked. “This is the perfect outfit.”
“At least pretend you’re a lady,” Beth said. She winked. “I picked out this dress for you. It was at the back of the closet.”
My sister handed me a hot pink dress with a wraparound belt and fluffy ruffles that encircled the garment from the hips to mid-thigh.
“I think mom wore that to her junior high dance,” I said.
Beth was choking up. “I knew it was hers. Try it on.”
I pulled the dress over my head, and it was a perfect fit. The dress was quintessentially 1980s with its bright pink color and the cascade of ruffles beneath the belt. Thanks to my slim figure, I was able to wear a dress our mother wore when she was thirteen.
“You look adorable,” Beth said. “Mom would approve, but she would probably tell you to gain a few pounds.”
I was shocked because Beth rarely spoke about our parents. It was like refusing to acknowledge that they’d lived could change the fact that they had died.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll wear it.”
Beth helped me blow dry my hair and arrange it in long curls that flowed over my shoulders. She offered to tease it, but I declined. “Let me do your nails,” she said.
When she looked in my medicine cabinet, she was delighted to find a bottle of polish that closely matched the dress. We sat at the kitchen table while she painted two coats of bright polish over every nail.
Rock Me: A Billionaire Romance (Billionaires, Brides and Babies Book 1) Page 9