Page 100 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

37

DORIE

The drive back from Atlantic City felt endless. The traffic was ridiculous thanks to an accident that had brought everything to a standstill.

I was so grateful for the nice, comfy ride and the AC. My body was heavy with exhaustion, my mind still buzzing from the whirlwind of the weekend. It started out a disaster, but it ended on a very high note. I still couldn’t believe it was real.

Did he really like me? Geez, I sounded like a tween girl. Does he like me? I rolled my eyes at my own silliness.

I didn’t know where things were going, but I knew there was something and that was all that mattered. What it looked like after the wedding and he went back to New York was still to be determined, but I had hope. We could make it work. The guy owned a jet. He could fly up to see me a few times a month.

I laughed aloud, shaking off the thoughts. I was getting ahead of myself. For now, I just needed to focus on getting Eliza’s cake made, which meant I needed an oven to do it. I hoped like hell the oven wasn’t going to choose this week to completely break.

I drove straight to the bakery. I unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, the familiar scent of dough and yeast greeting me. It was comforting. This place was my sanctuary, even when it felt like it was falling apart.

Which it most definitely was. I kept telling myself I was going to spring for some new equipment once things got a little better. Unfortunately, every time business got better, there was another priority. Taxes, supply cost increase, or whatever it might be. There was always something and now the oven was letting me know it was time. It was tired of being ignored.

“Alright,” I muttered.

I tried to turn it on first, hoping there was just some fluke, and it was going to work just fine. “Come on, come on.”

I waited. Nothing.

“Shit.”

I rolled up my sleeves and knelt down to inspect it. I could see the issue almost immediately. A loose wire, a frayed connection—nothing catastrophic, but enough to make me nervous. I grabbed my tools and got to work, my hands moving on autopilot as I tightened screws and reconnected wires. If the bakery went belly up, I could get a job as a repairman. I could fix the equipment in successful bakeries.

I finished the repair, plugged it in, and took a second. “Please, work. You can do it. Just a little longer.”

I turned it on, and the oven hummed back to life. I knew it was a band-aid fix. This thing was old, and it was only a matter of time before it gave out completely.

I sighed, sitting back on my heels and wiping my hands on a rag. “Hang in there, buddy,” I muttered to the oven. “Just a little longer.”

I stood and watched it. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to happen—would it explode? Become brand new?

Nope. It was just doing what it did.

The sound of the door opening pulled me out of my thoughts. Toby walked in, his girlfriend Kelly trailing behind him. Toby was carrying a box of supplies, his face lighting up when he saw me.

“Hey, boss,” he said, setting the box down on the counter. “How’s the oven?”

“Alive,” I said. “For now, at least. I think we’re on borrowed time with this thing.”

Toby frowned, walking over to inspect my handiwork. “You think we need to start looking for a replacement?”

“Probably,” I admitted. “But let’s get through this week first. We’ve got a wedding cake to bake and orders to fill. We’ll deal with the oven after that.”

He nodded, then glanced over at Kelly, who was leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone. “Kelly’s here to help, by the way. She’s got the day off tomorrow, so she offered to lend a hand. She’s interested in seeing what we do here.”

I smiled at Kelly, who looked up and gave me a small wave. “Thanks for coming,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged, tucking her phone into her pocket. “It’s no big deal. I like hanging out here. Plus, Toby promised me a cinnamon roll if I helped.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, I think we can manage that. Assuming this oven actually cooks things. We might end up with raw dough.”

We spent the next hour moving things around the kitchen, reorganizing supplies, and going over the game plan for the week. Toby was in his element, talking a mile a minute about how we could streamline the orders and still have time to focus on Eliza’s cake. Kelly chimed in every now and then, offering suggestions and helping us carry heavy trays of ingredients.

As I watched them work together, I couldn’t help but notice how in love they seemed. Toby would glance at Kelly when she was focused on something else. He had the look of love in his eyes. And Kelly—she had this way of smiling at him, like he was the only person in the room. It was sweet, almost too sweet, and it made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t expecting.