Sebastian (The Billionaire Boyfriend #1) - Christina Benjamin Page 0,15
would have if she was still here. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t absently reach for my phone to call her. Wherever she is amongst the stars, I hope she can hear me.
By the time I return downstairs, Bash has finished loading the van and is kicked back at one of my tables. He lounges, sipping at his coffee. For four in the morning, he looks impossibly peppy. It makes him even more irritating.
“You’re a real early bird, aren’t you?” Even I can hear the resentment in my voice, though it seems to brighten his already chipper mood.
“I have to be. I like to be in my office as early as I can to start the day. Also, just so you know, this is ridiculous. Do you always get up this early to make your deliveries? You can’t be both the baker and the delivery guy.”
“I prefer the term delivery woman. And I like my customers to see my face. I like them to know who I am and how much this bakery means to me.”
He frowns, nodding along though it’s still obvious he disagrees. “I could help you form a new business plan, you know. You can’t be a one woman show forever. There are other ways to keep your face present for your customers, even if you don’t want to expand your store or staff.”
“How do you know about that?” I ask suspiciously, taking a long sip of my coffee and glaring at him from over the rim of my cup.
“Bob Hunt, the banker that keeps calling you, is a friend of mine. He was at the rehearsal dinner last night and he mentioned he’s been in contact with you about expanding.”
I roll my eyes. Lord. Was there anyone Bash didn’t know?
“He’s not wrong,” Bash continues. “You’d gain a lot by franchising.”
“Isn’t that information supposed to be private?”
Bash merely shrugs.
Grumbling to myself, I grab my coffee and point to the van, hopefully cutting off conversation about my finances.
“Well, come on, delivery boy,” I call back to him, “no sense in slacking off when we could be getting work done.”
Chapter 9
Sebastian
It’s taken a whole hour of waiting outside the local grocery store to drop off a huge box of cookies for their weekly stock before Holly admits she made me show up at her bakery earlier than was necessary just to annoy me.
I sat back, sipping my now lukewarm coffee trying to hide my amusement. The joke is on her because I’m actually a morning person and it’s quite apparent she is not. My mood is growing more pleasant by the minute, however, Holly is getting more and more agitated.
“Take the next right or you’re going to run into traffic,” she says abruptly, pointing at the upcoming intersection.
“Are you kidding? It’s not even 6:00 on a Saturday morning. There isn’t any traffic. If we take a right, it’s just going to add more time until the next stop. You know how much gas that adds up to if you do that every week?”
She glares at me from the corner of her eye. “Seriously, if you keep going straight, we’re going to be stuck in a standstill for like twenty minutes. I do this every week, Bash. Take my word for it.”
At the last minute, I take a sharp right at the street she was indicating. The tires squeal and she pitches to the side. A few of the boxes in the back lean dangerously but stay upright.
“You’ve got to be careful!” she cries out. “People are waiting for these cakes and cupcakes! If they show up disheveled, it’ll look bad for my business. I have a reputation around here for perfect deliveries and I'm not going to have you messing it up.”
“You’re the one that asked me to be your delivery boy,” I mutter back, though I remind myself to be a more careful driver.
I'd forgotten that I'm not in my Porsche right now, able to drive however I want. It’s not like I want to ruin Holly’s hard work. To be honest, I'm a little worried about what she’d do to me if I did. She might very well push me off the Brooklyn Bridge. If I was to be even more honest . . . there’s something about her ferocity which I find intensely attractive.
Most people fall all over themselves to flatter me once they know how much money and authority I command. But Holly doesn’t seem to care at all about that.