I make it to the venue in record time and thankfully, the cupcakes hadn’t been handed out to the guests yet. Stealthily creeping along the back of the dining hall, I manage to sneak the last dozen in with the rest. When I try to creep back toward the door, however, I bump headlong into a waiter carrying a huge tray of wine glasses. The glasses clink and clatter together as both the waiter and I try to save them from crashing to the ground.
The noise interrupts the best man as he’s giving his speech, a best man who just so happens to be Sebastian himself.
“Holly,” Bash says in surprise, speaking into the microphone. “You’re here.”
Every single one of the people seated around the tables slowly swivel toward me, taking in the sight of the stranger breeching their event.
“Oh my God, Bash!” gasps a young woman in a floaty white sundress. I recognize her from Bash’s phone, but even if I didn’t it’s easy to tell she’s the bride. She looks from me to Bash. “Is this her? Is this the girl you were telling me about?”
“Clara . . .” Bash warns. His face turns red and he sets the microphone down stumbling over words I can’t hear as he follows his sister, who’s rushing toward me.
The bride is beaming when she reaches me. “Hi! I’m Clara, Bash’s sister. You must be Holly.” She turns to Bash who’s finally caught up to his animated sister. “Oh my God, Bash! You finally have a girlfriend! This is the best wedding present ever!” she exclaims throwing her arms around her brother’s neck.
Bash stares at me over her shoulder, steel gray eyes churning. I can practically hear the gears of his brain grinding, wrestling with how much he clearly adores his sister and how he can’t disappoint her.
Don’t you dare, I silently mouth at him, but I know it’s too late. Before he speaks, I already know what he’s going to say.
He grabs my hand and pulls me to his side, picking up the microphone. “Surprise,” he says into the mic, “This is my date for the wedding. Everyone, meet Holly.”
Chapter 7
Sebastian
“What the hell, Bash?” Holly hisses, cheeks as red as her hair as I drag her back into the reception hall. “Now you want me to be your date to your sister’s wedding? You’re the one who owes me, not the other way around.”
I hold up my palms, quieting her and glancing over my shoulder to make sure my prying sister or mother aren’t trailing after us. No doubt they’re going crazy right now trying to figure out who Holly is and why I didn’t tell them she would be attending the wedding with me.
I'll come up with some story later to explain the abrupt invitation, but right now I have to convince the beautiful baker to help me out. Having to constantly beg Holly for help is not a position I enjoy being in.
I squeeze the back of my neck guiltily. “I know it’s a little out there and it’s definitely last minute, but I need you to go along with this . . . at least for tonight,” I add when she starts to object. “Come on. There’s an open bar and the caterer is phenomenal. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. Are you a vegetarian? I heard there’s falafel.”
Holly’s face is unreadable, her green eyes utterly unconvinced. “I don’t even know what falafel is,” she mutters.
I blow out a breath, preparing to beg. “Holly, my sister means everything to me. I want this day to be perfect for her in every way and she’s been dying for me to meet some nice girl. Did you see how happy she was when she thought you were my date? Let her think that you and I are a thing for at least the next twenty-four hours.”
Holly’s pink lips press together, the corners of her mouth tugging into a stark frown. “You know this sweet big brother act isn’t going to work all the time, don’t you?” she mutters.
“I'll pay you,” I offer hastily, knowing I have mere minutes before my sister comes snooping after me. “Just name your price and it’s yours. I'll buy you a whole new bakery if I have to. I'm serious about this.”
“What?” she snaps. “Why do you always jump to offering me money when you want something that’s out of the question?”
“Well . . . to be fair, I did eventually get your help making those cupcakes.”
Her slight frown instantly deepens with annoyance at just how right I am. “Money can’t buy you everything, pal. I’m not running an escort service. You can’t just sleep with me then pay me off to be your date.”
“Come on, Holly. There has to be some way I can convince you. I'll do anything. I can’t show up without you to the wedding now, it’ll devastate Clara. Tomorrow is supposed to be her big day, it’s got to be flawless and having you there would make it more special to her.”
“Why?” she asks, hands falling in exasperation to her hips.
“Didn’t I just explain why I need you there? Because of my sister?”
“No, what I mean is why are they so insistent that you need a date? Is something wrong with you? I mean beside this whole holier than thou superiority issue you’ve got going on.”
“No, nothing’s wrong with me—wait, holier than thou? What is that supposed to mean?”
She just smirks, drumming her fingers on her hips. She loves getting under my skin in any way she can.
Damn. If she wasn’t so gorgeous, I don’t think I’d be able to stand her.
When she grins brightly, I forget my irritation all over again. Holly has a way of doing that, of sucking me in even when she’s driving me absolutely up the wall.
“Look,” she says. “I can tell your sister loves you for whatever reason that might be, but I've got a busy day tomorrow and that doesn’t include getting a wedding.”
I give a faint groan, despising her for making me beg. If this wasn’t for Clara, I wouldn’t be seriously considering groveling on my knees right now. “What’ve you got to do tomorrow? More baking? I could help you again. You said I handled myself pretty well this afternoon.”
She studies me, that frown slowly curling upward into a smile. Somehow, her grin is even more terrifying than her glare. “Actually, I suppose that could work . . .” she says, one finger pressing thoughtfully to her chin. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’m not staying tonight. I’m not dressed for this,” she says pointing down to her causal outfit. “But if you want me to be your date tomorrow, then I will—”
“That’s amazing, Holly! Thank you. Really.”
“But!” she continues, my heart sinking like a weight into my stomach with just the single word. Is it too late to backpedal? “It’s going to cost you.”
I instantly relax. “Fine. Just tell me how much.”
She shakes her head and smooths her still mussed hair against her scalp, eyes gleaming.
“No, what I really need is a delivery boy, Bash, and I think you’re just the right guy for the job. You’re going to cart me around while I make my morning deliveries tomorrow.”
My molars clench, grinding down to what feels like nubs in the back of my jaw.
A delivery boy, seriously?
As much as I want to argue with her, I know it’s pointless. I've made my bed by asking the headstrong baker to be my date, and now I'm just going to have to deal with it.