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“You won’t be there forever,” I tell her. I’ll make sure of that.
I want to tell her that I’ll take care of her. That I’ll provide for her. That I’ll give her the life she deserves, but I’m afraid she’s going to laugh at me. I am wearing an apron right now after all, working behind the counter of a bakery.
It won’t always be like this. I’ll make sure of it. This angel is all the motivation I need to go through with my plans to turn the bakery into a nationwide franchise. Once I get going, I’ll be able to buy her a better penthouse than the one she lost.
“I don’t want to come off as spoiled,” she says as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. “I am grateful to her. She took me in when no one else would. When something bad like that happens, you find out who’s willing to stick by your side through all the shit. You really find out who your friends are. Turns out, I don’t have any.”
She drops her eyes to the floor, looking like she’s about to tear up.
I don’t know what comes over me, but before I can stop myself, I’m gently touching her chin and raising her head back up. Her beautiful hazel eyes land on mine and my breath catches in my throat. I’ll never get used to the stunning sight of her looking at me. I just know that when we’re together for fifty years, she’ll still be able to rock me with one look of those breathtaking eyes.
“I’m your friend now,” I tell her honestly. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”
She stares at me for a long moment and the air sizzles with heat all around us.
Finally, it becomes too much for her and she turns away with her cheeks burning brighter than before.
“Even if I burn another tray of danishes?” she asks with a sad laugh. “Because I did.”
“Toss them out,” I tell her as I glance at the door behind me. “Quickly, before my mother comes back and sees them.”
She’ll fire her for sure if she finds out that she burnt more inventory.
“Won’t she know that they’re missing?” Charlotte asks as she hurries over and grabs the tray from the cooling rack.
“It will be fine,” I say as I quickly add twelve danishes into the computer and pull out my bank card. I pay for them while she’s busy throwing them into the large compost bin. This will keep my mom from finding out what happened.
I better teach this girl how to bake or I’m going to go broke.
“I’m hopeless,” she says as she tosses the last black danish into the compost.
“You’re not. Let’s go over it again.”
I put my wallet away and walk over to her. She’s looking so discouraged. I hate to see her like this. It breaks my heart.
“Have you ever cooked pastries before?”
“I never cooked anything before,” she says. “We had a team of personal chefs at our beck and call.”
“Wow,” I say with an impressed nod. “That must have been nice.”
“It was, but it was all fake. My father was stealing money from everyone we knew. He told them that his company was developing the biggest breakthrough in solar energy storage, but it was all a lie. He raised four billion dollars from investors, but there wasn’t even a prototype. He was a master manipulator and everyone fell for it. Me included.”
She sighs as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.
“So, when I think back to the vacations and personal chefs, it’s all tainted now. I know that he was paying everything with the stolen money from our friends, family, and other innocent investors. I would have rather eaten Ramen and soup from a can instead of that.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I tell her softly. “You can’t beat yourself up for what your father did.”
She looks at me for a long moment and then nods as she fights back tears. “Everybody else blames me.”
“Everybody else is stupid,” I say as I take a step toward her. She’s so close. My body hums with excitement.
Possession swirls within me as I gaze down at her. I’ve never felt so possessive over anything before, but when I look at her, I know I’ll do anything to make her mine. I’ll do anything to possess her sweet body and soft sensual lips.
“Thank you,” she whispers after a few heated moments.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say as I stroke her arm. “Now come. I’ll show you how to make a danish without turning them as black as coal.”
She laughs, the tension bursting out of her as she wipes her teary eyes. “That would be great, thanks. I want to make one successful batch of danishes before I leave today.”
