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"I'm impressed," Ryan said, greeting me by wrapping his arms around my waist. I inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne.
I turned my head around and glanced up, shooting him a playful look. "Impressed by what?"
"This. The function seems pretty well put together."
"Other than well put together, what else would you expect from me?"
"Catastrophe," he joked.
I made a faux gasp and lightly punched him in the gut.
"Don't look at me like that, princess."
"Like what?"
He pulled me closer to his body. "Like a hot mess. It makes me want to kiss you." Leaning into my ear, he whispered, "And then f**k you."
I focused on the crowd, trying not to let his words get to me, or more specifically, my pus**sy. "Aren't you afraid of others watching? Ryan, I don't think that's very appropri—"
He interrupted my sentence with a brief kiss. Holding my hand and dragging me along, he paced forward. "Come, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
I was hoping he didn't mean his mother, because Mrs. Bitch Crawford had been eyeballing me the whole night, wearing an 'I'm going to skewer you alive' face.
Thankfully, he led me to the other direction. I caught a glance of Riley standing at the entrance, holding himself together perfectly, like he always did. He was greeting the guests, putting on a sparkling, hundred-watt smile as each of them arrived and shook his hands. The same hands that were all over me an hour ago, searching my curves and prying my legs apart before I abruptly pushed them away.
"I'd like you to meet Mrs. Appleton, Scarlet," Ryan said, guiding me forward by the small of my back. I tore my eyes from Riley and whipped my head around. An old, but elegant lady stood next to him. Large, shiny, diamonds the size of my thumb clipped onto both her ears. She wore a sleek cream-colored suit and a pencil skirt.
The name Appleton immediately struck a chord with me.
"Appleton Pastries?" I said, not believing my eyes. My head was practically going dizzy with the amount of awe it was filling up with. "You're Juliana Appleton."
In other words, my idol.
I couldn't decide whether I should have been leaping for joy or crying. Juliana Appleton was practically a legend in my eyes. The woman who accomplished everything I wanted to, plus more. At the age of seventeen, despite being embedded in a deep poverty cycle, she decided to strive for success. She went from selling bread on the streets to owning chains of bakeries all over the country in a timespan of only five years. It wasn't just her talent for baking that brought her so far, but her business aptitude and foresight.
If I tried, I'd probably be able to write a whole biography about her.
She offered a wrinkled hand. "Nice to meet you, dear. Ryan mentioned you when he sent his invitation." She spoke with the same British accent I heard her use in interviews.
I had to mentally kick myself into action. Shaking her hand, I stuttered, "Ma-madam... It's such an honor. I can't... I don't believe... I can't even put it in words. I've read every single one of your books, and you're such an inspiration." I was certain I had made a blubbering fool of myself.
"She's a huge fan," Ryan said, placing both his hands on my shoulders. It somehow managed to reel me back to Earth. I couldn't believe he actually remembered me talking about Juliana. I had talked to them last week about my dream of owning a chain of bakeries, like she did, and mentioned her along the way.
She raised her brows, and then grinned. The creases around her eyes worked in an odd manner, making her look more motherly. "I'm surprised. I don't have too many fans."
My brain felt like it was going to explode with joy and panic. "I watched your TV show when I was ten. You were amazing." I managed to hold back a 'Can I be your granddaughter?' and saving myself from acting like a total creep.
She laughed. "Oh, I remember that, The Cake Bake, wasn't it? That silly thing. I thought only housewives watched that show. I'm glad you liked it, dearie."
"Me too," Ryan said. "Scarlet here makes wonderful pastries."
"I might try them some time."
I thought I was going to faint right there and there. A culinary legend tasting my baking? My mortal self was unworthy of such luxuries.
Fidgeting with my fingers, I tried to contain myself. But the feat turned out too great. Like a true fan, I needed a souvenir, something to remind me of this encounter in the future.
"Can I have your autograph?" I asked, stepping way out of professional boundaries.
I turned to Ryan for approval. He gave me a light nod, which encouraged me further.
"Oh my," she replied, chuckling. "It's not every day that someone asks me for an autograph."
