Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I leave the hotel, feeling a vast array of emotions. I’m brimming with excitement and smiling from ear to ear so much that I’m home without remembering the short drive. Between last night’s wild, dirty encounter to this morning’s shocking and successful performance, I’m vibrating with energy.
As soon as I toss my purse on the sofa, I dial my brother’s number. I know it’s during his workday and he’s busy, but he wanted me to call and I can’t wait.
He answers, and without missing a beat, says, “How did it go?”
“I got the job,” I squeal, practically dancing around the room.
“What? Congratulations. I knew you would. So when do you start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“That’s pretty quick.” I don’t like that switch in his tone. “What company are you working for?”
“I’m working for Julien Beaumont and his bakeries, Les Frères.”
“Do you mean the man you were seen at the hotel with last night?” he says.
“How did you…? Never mind.” I already know the answer. Even though he’s given me some distance, his security isn’t entirely gone. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’m your brother. I care about you, and I don’t like this.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s only hiring you to get in your pants.” Yes, I’m livid as can be. He’s already been in my pants. He doesn’t need to hire me for that.
“Oh, hell, no! What the fuck? Jack, I can’t even believe you. You of all people should fucking talk. I can’t even. I just can’t. Thanks, bro.” I hang up on my brother because there’s no way in hell I can talk to him right now, maybe ever. I pace back and forth before collapsing on my sofa.
I can’t believe he’d say something like that. Not that he’s not completely wrong. Julien and I crossed every single professional boundary until I was screaming his name a couple of times, but I earned my place as a baker as well. Why the fuck does it matter that we’re attracted to each other? I’m a fabulous baker. I’m incredible, and Jack should know it. He was willing to pay for my own bakery. Then again, maybe Jack only wanted to do it so I’d feel better and was trying to take care of me. For all I know, he'd probably have a standing company order to keep me in business.
Tears stream down my face while I sit on my sofa, letting my head fall back against the headrest as the joy of today fades away. I can’t believe I was so proud of myself. The shame of sleeping with my boss hits me. I run into the bathroom and strip down, showering off his scent, but I can’t erase his touch.
My phone rings on the cushion next to me. I scoop it up only to see Jack’s name, so I send it to voicemail. Seconds later it rings again, so I send it to voicemail and then this time, I turn it off. He has nothing to say to me that I want to listen to.
I cry myself into a deep sleep, letting the weight of today seep through my bones.
Chapter Six
Julien
After spending another hour in the bake-off tasting other desserts and debating on other candidates, I selected one other to join my team: a married woman who I was introduced to at the beginning of the day. Her skills are nearly up there with my dear Marilyn who is an expert in baking. I cannot believe that not only did I meet my soul mate, but that she is also a magician in the kitchen as well.
I’m just about to walk out with George by my side when that fuck from earlier comes up to me. “You’ve messed with the wrong girl. Lynny’s mine, and I’ve worked really hard to nail her. I won’t let it be ruined just so she can advance her career. Why don’t you go back to that whore you had last night?”
“Boy, I will destroy you.” I’m about to swing at him when my brother holds me back.
“Remember where we are, Julien. You have to get back to your woman. Ignore this asshole. She’s your girl now, and he’s only huffing and puffing because he can’t have her.”
“You’re right.” I brush off my brother’s hold and look right at that smug asshole and say, “She’s mine—she knows it, I know it, and everyone who could hear her calling my name last night knows it, so stay away from her or I’ll end you.” I walk out because I need to hold ma beauté.
We check out of my hotel room twenty minutes later, and I have everything loaded into my SUV and then George drives me over to her apartment where I see a handsome bastard in a suit walking up her steps.
I move right past him as his phone rings and he stops to answer it. I knock on her door but she doesn’t answer, so I pound hard. “Ma chèrie, open up.”