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“Straight for a while.”
“Why are you shopping now?”
She turns her head slightly toward me and releases another deep sigh. “I have a baking order due tomorrow, and with everything burned, I’m short on supplies.”
“You have to work now? This late?”
“This late or this early, however you see it.”
I briefly glance at her, and for a second, I feel something, a weird itch inside my chest at the sight of her exhausted face. I swallow hard before asking, “What do you mean?”
“For the cupcake orders for the bakery, I start working around four in the morning, that way everything is ready by breakfast time when the bakery opens.”
I nod and she continues.
“Recently I’ve started taking some extra orders, so I usually do that baking at night and then decorate the cakes in the morning. But today—”
“We disturbed you. You were sidetracked by us and your stuff burned. Fuck, I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay.” Her lips turn up, but the smile doesn’t reach the rest of her face, and the itch in my chest hits me again. “It’s not every day I get to meet my son’s lookalike.”
“Are you struggling with money?” I glance at her briefly.
“Zach! I’m not discussing my finances with you. We just met.” She once again slumps back. “I’m too tired to even argue. Please drop me off at the store. Take a left from here.”
Hope isinside the twenty-four-hour store, while I’ve been parked for the past ten minutes in the almost empty parking lot. From this location, I’ve a good view of the single checkout counter and can now see her dressed in a navy-blue baggy T-shirt, hauling her shopping bags off the counter.
Stepping out of the store, she scans the area and her eyebrows furrow when she sees me leaning against my Porsche. “What are you still doing here?” she asks after walking closer to me.
I have an urge to shift on my feet, feeling a bit nervous under her scrutinizing gaze, but I don’t give in and keep my face stoic. “I can’t leave you here.”
She reluctantly gives me her shopping bags and arranging them in my luxury car is a task in itself. But I finally manage and start the ride toward her home.
“Thank you so much, Zach, but if you’re feeling guilty about my burned cakes, it’s not your fault. I should have been more careful and set the timer.”
But this doesn’t feel right.
My stomach quivers in unease. I can’t leave Hope like this. We are, after all, responsible for her being in this situation. I tug on my tie before dialing William.
“How can I help you, Mr. Teager?” His voice fills the car and Hope jerks in her seat before her gaze fixes on the speaker.
“William, you know how to bake, right?”
“Certainly, sir. Would you like me to bake something for you tonight?”
Hope’s mouth falls open before her wide eyes meet mine.
I chuckle. As much as I would like to take the credit for leaving people impressed with my butler’s over-the-top etiquettes, I sometimes wonder how I got so lucky with William.
“No, but I need you to help someone. I’ll forward you the address and please bring all the baking tools you have.” After ending the call, I share Hope’s address with him.
“What’s happening and who the hell was that?” Hope rubs her eyes. Her exhaustion forgotten as she sits upright in her seat.
“I can’t help you, so I’m arranging someone who can.” I park my car behind her van outside their house.
“I can’t afford help,” she mutters and a flush creeps up her face.
“He’s not expecting payment. He’s my butler who I am loaning to my friend’s mom for one evening.” I get out of the car, grabbing her grocery bags.
