Page 23 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

If one was paying attention, one might even wonder if Dex hadn’t gone out of his way to make sure I knew he wasn’t seeing anyone. Or even randomly sleeping with anyone.

Not like it mattered to me. Sex and relationships had no place in my already too-full life.

“Not worrying. Trying not to anyway.”

“Have some chocolate and celebrate the positive changes coming to your budget, okay?”

“Will do. Lunch later this week?”

“Sure. I’ll text you when I’m free. Later.”

I clicked off the call. I’d met Isis years ago when she’d wanted a bedroom redux on her new bungalow and I’d tagged along with TJ, Designing Women’s master carpenter. I wasn’t sure if TJ still hung out with her, but Isis and I had clicked right away. We usually had lunch once a month or more often if we could swing it, which was rare with both of our schedules.

Isis had only started working for Dex about six months ago, and I hadn’t yet visited her at work. She always swung by Designing Women to pick me up.

Maybe this time I’d drive over to the law office so I could get a look at Dex’s work lay of the land. Just out of curiosity.

Not because I was already looking forward to the next time I’d see him. That would be preposterous.

I headed toward downtown Kensington Square, hoping that Berry hadn’t been peering out the window at my parents’ place at the right time to see me drive by like a stranger. She liked to watch for me when it was time for me to arrive.

Though I’d blown by that time a bit ago.

Dusk was setting in. The days were getting longer, but it was still late May. And since it wasn’t a school night, picking up Berry from my parents’ house later than planned shouldn’t cause too much chaos. I hoped.

The Honey Pot sign caught my eye across the street from Dex’s law office. My dad had a sweet tooth and his granddaughter was just as bad. I tried to limit them both, but right now, I was definitely in screw-it mode.

Or maybe just celebration mode. Whatever, it called for sugar.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I parked and crossed the street to the bakery.

“We’re closing up in a few minutes. Tarts are two for one,” a happy voice chirped from the back of the room.

I could handle a tart or four.

I peered into the display case and my stomach growled loudly. I definitely hadn’t made time for anything to eat beyond a salad from a drive-thru chain on the way to Dex’s this afternoon. And most of it had been dumped into the trash when I ran out of time to eat it in the parking lot before I headed to Dex’s.

Congealed strawberries and soggy croutons were not appealing.

However, those raspberry-apple tarts were calling my name. And the rhubarb ones would put me in favored child status with my dad for at least a week.

Okay, maybe three days.

A dark-haired woman with friendly brown eyes came through the doorway wiping her hands on her sunny yellow apron. “Hey there.” She tipped her head. “I think I’ve seen you in here before. Not sure we ever introduced ourselves.” She fixed the apron ties behind her. “I’m Dre.”

“Shelby. I work down the street.”

She snapped her fingers. “Right. That cool designer place. Designing Women. Makes me laugh every time I pass it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Inside joke that became my life.”

“Those are the best kinds.” She pointed to the back wall with her thumb. “Pretty much how I ended up with Pooh Bear as my mascot.”

The wall had a hand-painted version of the famous bear, but just different enough not to get in trouble with the Mouse House. She’d gone with the original storybook look instead, and I found it adorably on point for the proprietress’s personality.

Dre turned back to the counter behind her with a white box. “In fact, if you’re looking for something a little different, I just pulled these testers out of the oven.”

I went onto my toes. Whatever it was smelled amazing. “I shouldn’t.”

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