Page 11 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

5

DORIE

The alarm cut through the quiet. I shut off the noise and rolled over. Rick was lying next to me on his pillow. I reached out and scratched his neck. It was Friday. Finally. But Friday wasn’t really a Friday for me. Fridays were one of the busiest days of the week. It meant there was no hitting the snooze button.

“I have to get up,” I sighed.

Rick stretched but made no effort to get up. Why would he? His days were spent staying in the warm condo. His biggest journey would be to the kitchen to get food. I had bought one of those electric feeders. It was programmed to dump food a couple times a day. I was going to buy one of those pet cams one of these days just so I could see his cute little face and dispense treats.

I turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room as I brushed my teeth. My reflection in the mirror looked tired, but that was nothing new. Between the bakery and wedding planning, sleep had become a luxury I couldn’t afford. Today was the cake tasting, attempt number two, and I couldn’t afford to mess it up. Eliza had been dreaming about this day since we were kids, and I wasn’t about to let her down.

Even if it meant I had to deal with her asshole best man.

After the quick shower, I threw on a simple outfit—jeans and a blouse—and pulled my hair into my usual messy bun. No time for anything fancy.

Rick meowed at me from the kitchen as I grabbed my keys and jacket. “I know, buddy,” I said, giving him one last scratch behind the ears. “I’ll be back later. Don’t invite your friends over while I’m gone.”

I walked out of the condo and started my usual walk to the bakery. I was a lot more cautious. I knew Kaisen would be in town at some point. I didn’t want to risk getting knocked on my ass a second time. Maybe I needed to start wearing a light or a shiny vest.

I tightened my jacket around me, my mind drifting back to the last run-in with Kaisen. Ugh, the man was a walking disaster wrapped in a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent. Not probably—definitely. Handsome, sure, but also insufferably cocky. And yet, there was something about him that I couldn’t quite shake.

I shook my head as I approached the bakery. No. I wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about how drool-worthy he was. Today was about Eliza and Cullen and their perfect wedding cake. Nothing else mattered. If Kaisen had an opinion, fine. If not, I was going to pick the cake flavor myself.

I arrived at the bakery to find another letter taped to the door. I ripped it off the glass, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the trash without a second thought. It was the same as always—another offer from Carington and Associates, trying to buy me out. I’d ignored every single one so far, just like many of my neighbors, but I could feel the pressure mounting. They were getting more desperate. Money made people do crazy things. Investors were the worst of the worst. I knew there was more than one movie based on the greed of an investor resorting to some pretty nasty tactics. I worried they might start playing dirty. The thought made my stomach churn, but I pushed it aside. I had bigger things to worry about today.

Like Kaisen Seely.

I’d spent all day yesterday baking, barely getting any sleep as I prepped several cake flavors for his Lordship, the Duke of “Asshole Island.”

I got started with the usual routine, starting the dough for the day’s batch of croissants. The bakery wouldn’t open for another hour, but the smell of butter and flour already filled the air, grounding me in the familiar rhythm of my work. I moved through the kitchen like clockwork—measuring, mixing, kneading—letting muscle memory take over as my mind wandered back to the cake tasting later.

The oven timer dinged, pulling me out of my thoughts. I took out a tray of cookies and placed them on the wire rack. With them set them aside, I turned to the fridge and pulled out the batters and fillings I’d prepped for today’s tasting. They were some of the most popular. I doubted Kaisen would know anything about that though. Sophisticated palate, my ass.

Toby showed up not long after, looking bright-eyed. He was sipping his usual coffee. He noticed me rubbing my eyes.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

“Thanks, Toby,” I said, managing a tired smile. “Just a late night of baking. The cake tasting is today. I want everything to be perfect.”

“Your cakes are always amazing. Even if this Kaisen guy is a jerk, he’d have to be crazy not to see that.” Toby was moderately aware of my beef with Kaisen.

I sighed. “I hope so. I just don’t want to let Eliza down.”

“You won’t. If you want to go home and get some sleep, I can run the bakery today.”

“You’re a sweetheart, but you know Fridays. It’s all hands on deck.”

He chuckled. “I’m ready.”

He started taking trays up front to stock the cases. Toby was great—he’d been a godsend, honestly. He handled the complicated stuff, the specialty pastries and intricate desserts, giving me more time to focus on my true passion: wedding cakes. I loved the fun of creating beautiful cakes that would be remembered for decades. I wanted to give my couples masterpieces they could look back on and remember fondly.

Spring was the start of wedding season. I was in my element. I usually required a minimum of three months’ notice. One day, if I was really successful, I might be the kind of baker people booked a year in advance.

“We’ve got a line,” Toby called out from up front.

“Let them in.”

Business was off to the usual wild start. Customers filed in. I could hear the many conversations and Toby greeting each of them. I moved quickly behind the counter, taking orders, boxing pastries, and refilling the display cases as Toby managed the register. The rush was a welcome distraction, keeping my mind off the cake tasting—and Kaisen.