“I didn’t realize how many places sell your cupcakes,” I muse offhandedly. “You’re everywhere.”
“I try,” she grins back, eyes still distant.
We’d driven all over town today, spending hours greeting her customers and making sure that their orders were just right. Holly has a way with people that I admire, and a conviction for her job that is equally as commendable. I've never met anyone as clearly devoted to their career as I am. It’s refreshing.
“That Mary is a nice woman. Did you know her husband well?” I ask, unused to Holly being the one to sink into such a heavy silence. It’s usually her who keeps babbling when the quiet runs on too long.
“He taught my mom how to play piano when she was younger even though she didn’t have the money for lessons. He was a very sweet man.”
“And your mother, does she still play?”
Holly goes abruptly still then clears her throat. Her eyes dart toward me then away. “She passed a few years ago, actually. It was unexpected, a car accident. She spun out on some black ice on the highway.” She trails into silence, biting her lip. “We all loved Hal.”
The heavy silence stretches longer and longer, settling like a storm between us. I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable.
“I'm sorry,” I offer, the only words that I can come up with. Though I find they do little to actually comfort anyone when they are used in a situation like this.
“Of all the things you’ve done, that’s the one you apologize for?” she teases, a slight smile shining on her lovely face. “The one thing you have nothing to do with?”
I glance at her as we pull to a stoplight, watching the way the sun makes her freckles shine like golden flecks on her cheeks.
Mary’s words echo in the back of my mind, interrupted by the blaring horn of a car behind me when the light turns green and I don’t notice.
Chapter 10
Holly
“Take a left here,” I cry abruptly, shooting straighter in my seat and pointing down the next corner.
Bash frowns, brow creasing. “Okay, I know you were right before but if we turn left we’re going to be headed in the complete opposite direction of the last delivery. And this time I know what I'm talking about. I go to that restaurant all the time.”
“Must you incessantly doubt me?” I dramatically heave a sigh, which turns into a grin as he takes the turn as I instructed.
There’s a certain amount of obvious delight I take in giving him orders and having him follow them. It feels, I imagine, like successfully mounting a wild stallion. And what I wouldn’t do to mount him again.
Seriously, Holly? I scold myself, shaking my head at my own lustful thoughts.
I focus ahead once more. “Ah, here we are!” I announce, giddily.
“Holly,” the billionaire responds, his tone entirely unimpressed. “This is a McDonald’s.”
“Yep, and I'm starving. Come on, I'll get you a sausage biscuit for helping me out today.”
“Wow. A whole biscuit? You’re too kind,” he says sarcastically.
“Hey, don’t forget I’m in charge of you this morning. Don’t make me change my mind about being your date tonight!”
“Don’t tempt me,” he jokes.
I stick out my tongue.
Bash just rolls his eyes, at least having the sense not to argue with a ravenous woman. He throws the van into park before following me inside the small fast food restaurant. When we step in, we’re immediately deluged by the smell of frying potatoes and sizzling meat. My tummy growls, palm pressing against it as though I was asking it to wait.
We step forward in line, stuck behind a woman and her toddling son. Bash glances at his watch, then me. The time for our delivery is getting closer and closer. If we don’t get served soon, we’ll just have to leave. The little boy whines, tugging at his mom’s shirt as she digs in her purse. The woman casts an apologetic look at us, just noticing our presence. We’re the only ones in the restaurant this early.
“I'm sorry, I can’t find my wallet. Just give me a moment,” she begs, continuing to paw through her bag. Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes and her son starts to wail. “Honey, I think we might have to go home and find my wallet,” she says, grabbing the child’s hand and trying to drag him toward the door.
“But Mommy you promised! We never get to go out for breakfast and you promised we could!” the child cries, voice pitching higher and higher. “I'm hungry!”
Before I can say anything, Bash suddenly takes a single stride forward, sliding a gleaming black credit card over the counter toward the cashier. “I'll pay for it,” he says with a gentle smile at the startled woman. “Holly, what do you want? Add it on, too.”
“Um . . . I'll have a sausage biscuit and an orange juice,” I murmur, shocked by his kind gesture.
“Thank you,” the mother says, grasping at Bash’s arm and then quickly releasing him. “You have no idea how much easier you just made my morning, I'm already late for work and all I wanted was to do something nice for my son. Johnny, what do you say to the nice man who helped us?”
The boy, now suddenly shy, hides behind his mother and casts Bash a timid look. “Thank you . . .” he mumbles, sticking his thumb in his mouth.
With another grateful smile, the woman steps aside as the employee begins to bring out the food.
“That was really nice, Bash,” I say quietly.
He glances at me, eyes narrowed just slightly as though he’s trying to find the veiled jab in my words, but there is none. The man at my side, one who I'd labeled as selfish and condescending, also has an inexplicably kind side.
“It was just to make the kid stop crying.” He shrugs, but I can tell by the tenderness in his eyes that wasn’t the case at all.
It tugs at my heart that he tries to pretend there’s some other reason than kindness for his actions. Just how many times does he act this way, knowing that no one will see through his mask?
But I do. I see him now. There’s more to Bash than the calculating exterior he presents. It’s not just his sister whom he adores. He helped that woman and her son because he wanted to, it was as simple as that.
My heart feels warm in my chest as Bash collects the food and hands my biscuit and OJ to me. He hadn’t gotten anything at all.
“Should we hit the road?” he asks, “We still have that one delivery left. They’re probably waiting for it, aren’t they?”
I can only nod, trailing after him to the van. My head feels hazy, like I'm dreaming and I'll wake up at any second. I'm more confused than I've ever been in my life.
Just who is Bash exactly? And why do I feel like I'm peeling back layers to expose something absolutely beautiful within him?
Chapter 11
Sebastian
“Where’s your date, Bash?” Mom asks curiously, her arms folding over her chest.
I take a sip from the glass of Scotch in my hand, gazing back at her with an equally level stare. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping your daughter get dressed instead of grilling your son?”