Page 97 of The Billionaire Is Back

“‘I see,’ she said as she carefully mulled over the best way to phrase this to her best friend and boss…”

“They’ll be here in forty minutes, Vera! I don’t have time for documentary narration!”

“Yeah. I fucked up. I didn’t wait for the gelatin to absorb?—”

“Bloom.”

“Bloom. I rushed the process. I’m sorry.”

“You should have told me yesterday so I could have made more.”

“I should have. Yes. Also, I sharpened one of your knives, like you asked. But it wasn’t that one.”

I huff out a breath. “Well, you have to put it in the right place.”

“I know. I know!” she says, rushing to find the knife that I should be cutting with. She finds it and presents it to me.

“What are you giving me the handle for?! Just stab me with it and put me out of my misery!”

Vera gives me a look. She’s done being SympatheticEmployee Vera. She tells me with a Best Friend Vera look that I’m being a ridiculous, spazzy drama queen.

“Honey, this is why we do a dry run. It’s a rehearsal. We will make adjustments based on what we learn today.” She tries a piece of the marshmallow and moans into her own mouth. “This isdivine. What are you talking about?”

“It’s not divine. It’s satisfactory. It’s the wrong consistency, it won’t melt properly, it’s not s’more-worthy. It certainly isn’t handshake-worthy! I want everything to be perfect!”

“Babe. It’s just friends and family today. We all love and support you. Everyone who’s going to be here today is going to be here for the reopening too.”

“Not everyone,” I murmur as I stomp over to my shelves to find my bags of marshmallows—which Vera should be doing.

“Ohhhh,” she says, as if she’s finally remembered how to speak the best-friend language we’ve been speaking to each other since we were kids.

“I mean, I want everyone to be impressed, but he funded this whole renovation and I just want to get everything right.”

“Claire. He’s going to love all of it. And more importantly, he lovesyou.”

As if on cue, my cell phone rings and it’s Grady. If he’s calling to tell me he can’t make it today, I will lose it. I answer hesitantly, “Hi.”

“Hey, babe. I’m out back.” Suddenly, my heart is racing for a different reason. I headover to the back door to unlock it, but he stops me with his tone. “Don’t open it yet. I have company.”

“Company? What do you?—”

“He means me, cupcake!” Crabby is always yelling, but his attempt at sounding more masculine than Grady throws him into a coughing fit.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone,” Grady says.

“Crabby, we aren’t open yet.”

“Yeah, well, what’s this dingus doing here, then?!”

“This dingus was invited by his girlfriend,” I hear Grady explain calmly. “The owner of this fine establishment.”

“This is discrimination!”

“How am I discriminating against you, Crabby?” I ask, grinning and shaking my head.

“You don’t like old people. Or bald people. Or short people. Or old, short, bald people. I want your cookies, and you won’t let me have them! I’ve got my apple box in the trunk of my car! I will take it out front, stand on it, and start a petition if you don’t let me in now so I can get the first taste of your new chocolate chip cookies!”

Vera and I share a look and laugh. “Gosh. I don’t know if you chose the right guy, Claire Bear,” she mumbles. “That one’s got some big ol’ rum balls on him.”

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