“I mean not a real date—just someone who’ll get your mother off your back. A fake date.”
“What, like hire a male hooker?” My mouth goes dry at the thought.
“Jesus, not a hooker!” Dean laughs with genuine amusement that I feel in my belly. “I can’t even picture you with a hooker. Your OCD would kick into overdrive around a man who has sex for money.”
My face falls. “What makes you think I have OCD?”
Dean flinches like he’s revealed too much. “I’ve seen you in the bakery for years now, Norah. You have these tics.”
“Tics?” I ask, feeling exposed. “At what point did you become a level ten stalker?”
“Are you saying you’ve never noticed me?” He pins me with a challenging look that gives me a jolt of energy. “I come to Rise and Shine a lot…I’m certain you at least know how I take my coffee.”
I roll my eyes defensively while inside saying cream and two sugars. But I know several of my other regulars’ coffee preferences too. It doesn’t mean anything.
Dean sighs and tilts his head, his eyes roaming deliberately over my face like he’s reading my mind. His close inspection causes my cheeks to flush, and suddenly, it’s a lot warmer in this alley than it was a few seconds ago.
Dean licks his lips with determination. “I’m not too shy to admit that I’ve noticed you measuring everything three times.”
“That’s just to be precise. Any good baker measures multiple times. I have that included in my franchise manual.”
“I didn’t first notice it in your manual. I noticed it by watching you. You’re a perfectionist, Norah. Your bakery is impeccable, and your business model for the franchise is a great example of that high level of care—your brand story alone is a work of art.”
My body flushes from his praise. Who knew having a stalker could be so…flattering? “Well, I want Rise and Shine to be successful. I came up with this idea when I was a teenager, and it still surprises me that I’m taking this next step.”
“I know. God, I wish you could understand that I’m complimenting you. Seriously, I’ve reviewed franchise folders from different restaurants and bakeries, and none have come close to being as marketable as yours. You were the easiest investment I’ve ever made, and that’s coming from someone who’s spent his entire adult life investing in the stock market.”
My lips part as Dean showers me with all the affirmations I could ever want in life. It’s overwhelming, actually, and I hate that I have to quickly swipe at my upper lip, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his compliments have affected me. Dean really does have two sides to him, and this one is highly appealing. If only my mother could hear everything he just said. Maybe then she’d see my bakery isn’t just a bakery, and that I’ve spent years of blood, sweat, and tears to turn my dream into a reality.
“Back to my original point…why don’t you take a guy friend to this thing? Someone your mom doesn’t know who can be your date for the night?” He must think I have tons of those lying around.
“I don’t have guy friends. I barely have girlfriends. Rachael is probably my closest friend, and that’s only because she works for me. She probably doesn’t even like me. I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear this, but I’m a really bossy boss.” I sound mopey. Anything to do with my social life always makes me mopey.
Dean nudges me with his shoulder. “I’m sure Rachael likes you, Norah. You’re impossible not to like.”
My chest swells at the comment he threw out like it was nothing. I’ve never been very good at the friend thing. In fact, one might say I was terrible at it. In high school, I had a custom cookie business that was so successful I found myself baking on weekends instead of going to parties. My twenties were even worse once I finished culinary school and opened the bakery.
“I suppose I could take Rachael and tell my mother I’m a lesbian,” I murmur, mildly tickled at the image that idea conjures in my head. Although knowing my mother, she’ll just bust out adoption books or sperm donor catalogs.
Dean laughs. “Surely, you know one guy who’s willing to go with you to a party.”
“I know you, Dean.” I huff, and then my eyes widen as an idea takes root in my mind. “I know you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Dean replies with a nervous laugh.
“I am,” I exclaim and turn to grab his arm excitedly. “Seriously, Dean, this is perfect. We can say we met through the bakery, and you’re an investor, and we just started dating. You can say all those wonderful things you just said about my business model to my mother, to my mother’s friends, and to everybody at the party. It’ll be great! It’ll be like a campaign tour for Rise and Shine Bakery. Maybe then my mother will see this isn’t just a lemonade stand I’m running; I’m a legitimate entrepreneur. And since you don’t want a girlfriend and I don’t want a boyfriend, neither of us will have any expectations. It’s perfect!”
Dean stands and fidgets with his glasses nervously. “Did you forget I’m a sexist womanizer? I objectify you on a regular basis.”
I roll my eyes dismissively. “I’ve been ignoring that side of you for months now; it’s like an annoying breeze. It’s fine. And at the party, you can be the Business Dean you just told me about. This is perfect. I know you can do this.”
“Oh. I’m certain I could do this, but why would I want to? What’s in it for me, exactly?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing me warily.
I swallow the lump in my throat and stand to face him eye to eye. “What did you have in mind?”
His brows lift, and he glances at my smock.
“Not that.” I shove him away. “That is not an option.”
He laughs heartily. “I’m sorry, it was a joke…mostly.”
“I’m not joking about any of this, Dean. If you’re with me at that party, I’ll owe you one. A big one.” I take a step closer, and his dark eyes zero in on my lips, causing my body to instantly heat. This happens a lot when Dean’s eyes are on me. It doesn’t mean anything, though. It’s just a natural hormonal reaction to being the object of an attractive man’s gaze. Ignoring the bead of sweat collecting on my upper lip, I offer, “You could have free croinuts for the rest of the year. Or I could reserve a booth for you every day. I know you have your co-working space down the street, but you spend enough time at the bakery, you deserve your own table. Or maybe I can name a croinut after you at the new Denver location. Wouldn’t that be cool? You could pick the flavor. I see you as a maple glaze and bacon variety, but I could do whatever you like. These are your terms. We can look at this like another business transaction. I will do anything to get my mother off my back.”
Dean runs both hands through his beard as he thinks long and hard. “Are you really willing to do anything?”
“Well…mostly,” I reply nervously when I see a strange glint in his eye. “I do have limits.”
A dirty smile spreads across his face. “That’s what safe words are for, sugar tits.”
“Never mind. This is a horrible idea,” I snap and turn to head back into the bakery.