Page 96 of The Billionaire Is Back

He holds up his hands. “And what do you need from me?”

“I need you to eat dinner with me on the patio, have a drink with me by the water, and then watch three episodes of a show of my choice with me—while snuggling.”

He grimaces.

I shoot him in the chest.

“Okay,” he says, grinning and clutching at his heart. “You got me.”

And I think I really do.

Chapter 25

Bloomed to Fail

Claire

This doesn’t feel right.

I roll the tiny ball of marshmallow between my thumb and forefinger. This will not melt properly. This is not s’more-worthy.

“I’m thinking maybe Damien should start with something fun. Something loud to bring the energy. Would that be too distracting?” Vera pontificates.

I ignore her. I’m not doing half as good a job as she’s doing ignoring me while she goes over Damien’s set list for this morning. At least she’s doing a good job at something.

It’s a week before my grand reopening. We’re doing a trial run today. It’s an invite-only preview event for family and friends to try some of my new and old favorites on the revamped nostalgic Sweet Treats on Main menu.

Normally I’d do this three days before the official reopening, but it’s also operating as a goodbye party of sorts for Grady. He has to go back to New York tomorrow morning. He’ll only be gone for a week before making a quick trip home for the reopening event, but it’s balls to the wall with the merger now, so he won’t be able to make it to Beacon Harbor very often for a while. With my business starting up again, I won’t have much time to visit him. And I certainly don’t have a staff in place that I can hand things off to if I ever do need a break…

But I don’t have time to think about that now.

Because my guests will start arriving in forty-five minutes, and something isn’t right.

I taste the marshmallow. Nope. Something is definitely off.

“Or maybe I’ll just have him strum something mellow. He’s so good at melancholy. I don’t know what he has to be sad about when he looks like that, but…” Vera mumbles and shakes her head at no one. Since apparently it’s just her alone with her thoughts of Damien back here.

This was theonetask I delegated to Vera that involved a recipe because it’s incredibly simple, but it had to be made properly yesterday so it could set overnight. I don’t have time to make more marshmallows now. They’re a key ingredient in a third of my menu, and I do not want to serve store-bought marshmallows. So I’m giving them a light dusting of powdered sugar in the hopes that it will solve all my problems.

“But I don’t want to startoff on a sad note. Maybe a love song? Like one where love works out, not one of the mopey ones about the end of a relationship.”

I cut a small piece of the marshmallow I just dusted with powdered sugar, but it’s not even a clean slice because the texture’s all wrong. I take a bite. Nope.

Now it’s a poorly bloomed gelatin marshmallow covered in sweet white powder.

“No, I think we need upbeat energy. I’ll tell Damien to?—”

I slam my knife down on the counter. “Will you stop?! I’m opening a bakery, not a concert hall.”

She looks shocked.

I am shocked. “Vera. I’m so sorry?—”

Vera holds up her hands. I try to talk again, but she insists with her hands that I should remain quiet. She approaches me, her arms open wide, and takes me into a giant hug. “No. Claire Bear. I’m sorry. That guy makes me crazy even when he isn’t around. I’m here. I’m here for you. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is the gelatin must not have bloomed properly before you mixed the rest of the ingredients. I have cookies that need to go in the oven. I have to put the finishing touches on three cakes. The products need to be in the display cases before the doors open. I don’t know if the coffee is ready. I can’t even make a clean cut with this knife. I need to know that if I have to use store-bought marshmallows for my s’mores that I have enough of them, that I have the right flavors—and if I don’t, then I need you to run out and buy some for me immediately, and I shouldn’t have to ask you to do that because you’re my assistant but you’re not assisting me.” I finally take a breath. “I thought we streamlinedthis process. I’m doing more simple recipes because it’s supposed to make everything easier and better, but you’re obsessing over my boyfriend’s brother—which, yes, I do very much want you to hook up with him, just not until after I have successfully reopened my bakery.”

Vera has been nodding, arms crossed over her chest, as if I’m making some very good points. The chunky blue highlights in her hair have faded to an almost gray color, but I’m going to have all gray hairs a week from now at this rate.

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