Page 124 of The Billionaire Is Back

“It’s about Goddamn time,” Alice says, putting her hands on her hips and smirking.

“What?”

“I was married to my late husband Ed for thirty years, God rest his soul. So I know love. And I’ve been a secretary even longer. So I’ve seen a lot of rich a-hole types who only care about one thing and not the thing that really matters in this life. You aren’t one of those. Isaw you with her. I was just waiting for you to figure it all out for yourself. Because like I said, I know rich a-hole types, and nobody can tell you what to believe or what to do. Of course, I can’t say I was expecting you toquit.”

“I’m sorry to leave you, Alice. I made Lynch promise to take care of you in any way that you want.”

Alice gets a saucy look on her face that makes her look twenty years younger. “He better be careful what he promised you. I might hold him to that.”

I laugh. “Alice!”

She waves a hand at me. “It’ll be fine. I know I was the first great secretary of your life, but you are most certainly not the first CEO I’ve assisted.”

I playfully clutch at my heart. “Ouch.”

“And you’ll be fine. More than fine. You’ll be happy! You need me to help you pack up your life and ship it to Beacon Harbor—just give me an address to ship it to. I’ll have the jet ready to take off as soon as you get to the airport. Now, go. Go make the merger you really want to make.”

“Thank you, Alice.” I kiss her on the cheek and rush out of the building.

Now I feel it. Now that I’m on the sidewalk, loosening my tie. The fire is returning. The greed for more. But it isn’t about money or power.

It’s about my best friend’s little sister and wanting every single moment I can take of life together with her.

I have a lot of work ahead of me. I have to mend things with Jake, be there for my parents in a way that I haven’t been, andfigure out how to help Damien.

Most of all, I have to convince Claire that I’m back for good.

But I’m at my best when the stakes are high. And they can’t be any higher than the answer toWhat’s next?

My happily ever after with the beautiful baker of Beacon Harbor.

Chapter 34

The Billionaire Is Baking

Claire

VERA: You are a wicked bad ass, but you need help. Let me help you!!!

ME: Hey!!! That’s so sweet, but I got this!!! Seriously. I just need you to pick up the box truck for me tonight and bring it here in the morning! That’s it! I’ll remind you later. I’m totally on track to get everything done tonight. All good. Really. Xoxo

I am so not allgood, but I do got this. Probably. I am totally wired on caffeine and on track to pass out face first into a bowl of frosting in about three hours. But I’m all good. Really.

I’m making the biggest cake I’ve ever made, all by myself. I wasn’t able to do a trialbake the other night, thanks to Vera. She is still the best friend ever and I’m still very glad I fired her, but I haven’t had time to hire her replacements yet. And I can’t focus on making everything perfect if my well-meaning yet talkative family is around either. So, I’ve been in my bakery kitchen ever since the store closed, making seventy-two cups of vanilla cake batter and sixty cups of Italian meringue buttercream by myself while drinking green tea and listening to NPR.

Just kidding, I’m pounding coffee and blasting my Taylor Swift Getaway Carb playlist. And crying. Despite the upbeat soundtrack, I’ve been crying from every hole in my face for hours. I put on a face mask this afternoon to ensure that no sadness snot would accidentally drip into my cake batter or icing, but things might taste a little salty from the tear drops. I tried wearing goggles, but they fogged up immediately.

I was hoping that throwing myself into work would make me miss Grady less, but it turns out nothing makes me miss him less. All I can do is look forward to seeing him again. And I am looking forward to seeing him at the Shellibration tomorrow. Even if I’m just watching him give a speech from the crowd, like everyone else. But I can’t show up at the event without a gigantic cake lobster, so there’s no rest for the weary.

Although I’m realizing now that in my frantic rush to make the big base cake that represents the ocean and the template for my lobster cake and the fondant and the batter and getting my cake pans into the oven and setting the timers and then taking them out of the oven and putting them in the fridge so I can carve them, I’ve forgotten to let Grady know that I am looking forward toseeing him. But I’ve just started to make the mirror glaze for the base cake so my ocean looks pretty and shiny, so I have to keep an eye on the saucepan to make sure my mixture doesn’t boil over.

I think I hear a knock at the back door. If that’s Vera, I’m not letting her in. I call out, “Vera, I don’t need help and I’m in the middle of something!”

More insistent knocking.

Maybe it’s Crabby. That wise old turd is relentless. I haven’t been able to turn him away since we bonded at the Sea Dog, but if he brought the raccoon with him, I will knee him in his crumbly old rum balls. “Crabby, I’m busy and I don’t have any cookies left!” I call out.

My sugar-glucose water hasn’t started to bubble yet, but it will any minute. I set a one-minute timer and then dash over to unlock and open the door.

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