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"Yeah," Kamilia agrees. "They're not your conventional billionaires, that's for sure. They're made for Wicked Delight cupcakes, that's for sure," she adds, ogling her phone. "Mr. Johnston is going to get very lucky tonight; maybe even baby number four will procure the deal, I'll have you know."

I snicker at Kamilia's words. I don't think two people could love each other more than Kamilia and her husband, Jacob.

"Wait..." I say, an idea coming to me. "You're absolutely right. My Billionaire Coffee cupcakes are not going to work on them, but my Wicked Delight cupcakes will. I have to whip up another batch quickly and make them extra wicked."

"I don't know, Tia. Look at this picture of the three of them. Even through their damn suits, you can see they're built like Greek gods. I don't think they eat sugar."

"Nonsense, everyone secretly eats sugar. And if sex sells, it could also buy me stuff too. In this case, it could buy me the opportunity to send them packing off Darling Rose's land for good."

I waste no time, and soon I have six perfectly wicked and extra delightful cupcakes resting in my signature pink box with my logo printed in a romantic gold font on the side, ready to go and save the town I call home from three greedy billionaires.

"You're going to have to dress the part too, if you want to succeed."

I look down at my blue jeans and pink t-shirt.

"You're right. I'm going to zip by my house quickly, change into something a little sexier, and be on my way to the city."

"I'll close up shop for the day, so don't worry about that. You go and save us. Good luck."

"Thank you. I plan to knock 'em off their feet straight into a sugar coma, but not before they agree to skedaddle on out of here."

Once in my pretty, quaint house, with its pretty, darling garden and vintage chandeliers, I take a quick shower and spend way too long deciding what to wear.

Eventually, I swap the little, little black dress that clings to my curves and makes my boobs pop and barely covers my ass for a red, long, flared skirt with pockets and a black halter-neck top with tiny gold cupcakes printed on it.

I leave my hair to run down my back in waves, and I apply a generous layer of mascara and luscious red gloss to my lips. There. Perfect. I look sexy, but I still mean business.

I almost turn around and go back home when I look up at the intimidating building of Apex Industries. It's the tallest skyscraper in the city, ultra-futuristic in its design. Well, clearly the CEOs are all about being the biggest and the best. I'm sure they go around with the measurements of their members hanging around their necks like medals.

No, why am I thinking about their members? Also members? Since when do I call male appendages "members"? Erase. Erase. Erase.

I take a deep breath, pat the box of cupcakes I'm carrying, and with all the confidence in the world, march straight in with my head held up and my shoulders squared. I'm going to win this battle with sweetness.

Of course, if I really wanted to take the member analogy further, trying to see the CEOs of Apex Industries was like being cock-blocked on every level imaginable.

Chapter Three

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Joel

––––––––

"We're all seeing the same thing, right?"

I turn my head to the right and glance at my business partners and best friends, Brandon Wright and Rex Stevens.

They nod, Brandon with a frown on his face and Rex quietly assessing the situation.

We had just stepped out of the elevators, on our way to a grueling lunch meeting with a stubborn old oil magnate, when we spotted her.

The woman is wearing impossibly high black heels with a long red skirt and a black top that seems to have... cupcakes printed on the fabric in gold. Her silky dark hair flows down her back, the ends teasing the apex of her ass, modestly but undeniably accentuated by her skirt.

She's clutching a box that looks like it's from a bakery.

Without thinking, and as unobtrusively as possible, we move around her, so we can get a better look at her face, unaware of the streams of people who greet us with reverence before giving us a wide berth. Being the bosses has its perks.

But fuck, her face is... extraordinary. Eyes, fringed with thick lashes and as dark as her hair, shimmer with fervor as she talks animatedly to the security guard at the front desk.