Sebastian (The Billionaire Boyfriend #1) - Christina Benjamin Page 0,5

I was not who I said I was.

“Huh . . . My gut is usually right about things like that,” she says. “Sorry, Sebastian. I'm Holly, even though you already know that I suppose.”

Waving away her apology, I shake my head. “Can I put in my order now?”

“Absolutely not. You can either wait in line to put your order in like everyone else or give me another call. But like I told you, it won’t be ready today. We have a waiting list,” she replies curtly, throwing her unraveling braid over her shoulder and shooting a sickly-sweet smile at the man behind me. “But what about you, how can I help you today? Are you picking up?”

The man glances at me, then Holly, then back to me, like he’s afraid of speaking over me. I shoot him a withering look that keeps him firmly in place behind me. By the time I look back at the baker, her smile is gone and an unpleasant glower has taken over instead.

“You’re a real piece of work, Sebastian Titus, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“First you call me and demand that I make you cupcakes despite the fact that my waiting list is a mile long. Then you show up and shove all my loyal customers out of the way? You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

I glower right back at her, pressing both palms into the counter now. If she wants to play ball, I'll play ball. “I do have a lot of nerve. And I've also got a lot of money, so name your price. You want to double the cost of the cupcakes? Triple?”

I whip out my wallet, thumbing through the hundreds that are gathering dust inside. I use my black credit card almost exclusively now, but always have some cash on me. I keep one eye on her as I count the bills, willing to pay off her damn mortgage for Clara’s cupcakes if I must. My baby sister needs cupcakes, and she’s going to get them.

“Put the cash away, that’s not going to get you what you want here,” she sputters, blinking dazed eyes at me and shaking her head.

The rest of her small staff has slowly congregated behind her, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Please get back to work,” she rebukes gently, frowning at them.

Her staff returns to their stations, but they’re listening with interest now.

“If money won’t get me what I want, then what will? It’s my sister’s rehearsal dinner tonight so I’ve got no choice, I can’t leave here without these cupcakes. She needs them to make her wedding perfect and I’m going to get them for her one way or another.”

The woman sighs. “Then you should’ve called in the order weeks ago.” She bites her lower lip, eyeing me. “You don’t strike me as the type of guy to go through all this trouble for his sister. That’s actually kind of sweet.”

Sweet? I can be sweet if that’s what it takes to get these damn cupcakes. “Well, I’d do anything for her. She’s my baby sister.”

The woman softens. I’m winning her over. Her eyes narrow as she scrutinizes me. “If you’re lying . . .”

“It’s not a lie,” I answer swiftly, dragging out my phone and flicking to a picture of me beside Clara on the day of her bridal shower.

Holly’s eyes soften again. “Look, Sebastian—”

“Bash. Everyone calls me Bash.”

“Well look, Bash. I want to help you and your sister out. I really do, but can’t you see how busy we are? I don’t have time for another order. We close in an hour and these people are all waiting for their own pickups.”

She can’t be telling me no. It’s impossible, inconceivable even. I can’t remember the last time anyone has rejected me. Not on a business deal, not on a request to spend the evening together, and certainly not when I’m willing to pay them for a service.

Irritation prickles my skin, leaving a wake of goose bumps. “This is unacceptable,” I say simply, the softness of her eyes hardening again.

“Bash, I told you that I can’t do this order. If you want those cupcakes made, you’re going to have to come behind this counter and make them yourself.”

She whirls away from me, wiping her palms on her tight denim shorts and leaving a smear of flour behind as she addresses someone else in line behind me. “You’re Lewis Donald, aren’t you? You ordered the raspberry pie and the lemon scones? I'll get those