swipe at my upper lip, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his compliments have affected me. Dean really does have two sides to him, and this one is highly appealing. If only my mother could hear everything he just said. Maybe then she’d see my bakery isn’t just a bakery, and that I’ve spent years of blood, sweat, and tears to turn my dream into a reality.
“Back to my original point…why don’t you take a guy friend to this thing? Someone your mom doesn’t know who can be your date for the night?” He must think I have tons of those lying around.
“I don’t have guy friends. I barely have girlfriends. Rachael is probably my closest friend, and that’s only because she works for me. She probably doesn’t even like me. I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear this, but I’m a really bossy boss.” I sound mopey. Anything to do with my social life always makes me mopey.
Dean nudges me with his shoulder. “I’m sure Rachael likes you, Norah. You’re impossible not to like.”
My chest swells at the comment he threw out like it was nothing. I’ve never been very good at the friend thing. In fact, one might say I was terrible at it. In high school, I had a custom cookie business that was so successful I found myself baking on weekends instead of going to parties. My twenties were even worse once I finished culinary school and opened the bakery.
“I suppose I could take Rachael and tell my mother I’m a lesbian,” I murmur, mildly tickled at the image that idea conjures in my head. Although knowing my mother, she’ll just bust out adoption books or sperm donor catalogs.
Dean laughs. “Surely, you know one guy who’s willing to go with you to a party.”
“I know you, Dean.” I huff, and then my eyes widen as an idea takes root in my mind. “I know you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Dean replies with a nervous laugh.
“I am,” I exclaim and turn to grab his arm excitedly. “Seriously, Dean, this is perfect. We can say we met through the bakery, and you’re an investor, and we just started dating. You can say all those wonderful things you just said about my business model to my mother, to my mother’s friends, and to everybody at the party. It’ll be great! It’ll be like a campaign tour for Rise and Shine Bakery. Maybe then my mother will see this isn’t just a lemonade stand I’m running; I’m a legitimate entrepreneur. And since you don’t want a girlfriend and I don’t want a boyfriend, neither of us will have any expectations. It’s perfect!”
Dean stands and fidgets with his glasses nervously. “Did you forget I’m a sexist womanizer? I objectify you on a regular basis.”
I roll my eyes dismissively. “I’ve been ignoring that side of you for months now; it’s like an annoying breeze. It’s fine. And at the party, you can be the Business Dean you just told me about. This is perfect. I know you can do this.”
“Oh. I’m certain I could do this, but why would I want to? What’s in it for me, exactly?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing me warily.
I swallow the lump in my throat and stand to face him eye to eye. “What did you have in mind?”
His brows lift, and he glances at my smock.
“Not that.” I shove him away. “That is not an option.”
He laughs heartily. “I’m sorry, it was a joke…mostly.”
“I’m not joking about any of this, Dean. If you’re with me at that party, I’ll owe you one. A big one.” I take a step closer, and his dark eyes zero in on my lips, causing my body to instantly heat. This happens a lot when Dean’s eyes are on me. It doesn’t mean anything, though. It’s just a natural hormonal reaction to being the object of an attractive man’s gaze. Ignoring the bead of sweat collecting on my upper lip, I offer, “You could have free croinuts for the rest of the year. Or I could reserve a booth for you every day. I know you have your co-working space down the street, but you spend enough time at the bakery, you deserve your own table. Or maybe I can name a croinut after you at the new Denver location. Wouldn’t that be cool? You could pick the flavor. I see you as a maple glaze and bacon variety, but I could do whatever you like.