Chapter 16 It took me longer than I liked to make it across the room to the dessert table. Understandably, people were surprised to see me here. I usually avoided luncheons and galas like the plague. I gave generously to charity but saw no reason to make a big show of it. Quiet donations to causes I supported were enough; I didn't need recognition. Sam was in attendance, though, so I'd set aside thirty minutes for small talk to keep him happy. Ignoring everyone like I wanted to would only annoy him. He frowned when I walked away from my chat with the mayor, but politics didn't interest me. If any feathers were ruffled, Sam would smooth them over. He was used to it. My timing turned out to be perfect. Bea had emerged from the kitchen a few minutes ago, trailed by a faint puff of smoke. She'd been waylaid several times on the way, making us reach the dessert table at the same moment. Her dessert table. I wasn't sure how uncommon this setup was, since I rarely went to events like this, but I couldn't imagine anyone else had ever created such a beautiful tablescape. There were desserts and candy at all levels, sitting on glass trays. Cream puffs stacked into pillars. Colorful macarons arranged in rainbow order. Between the desserts were small silver vases holding brightly colored flowers. Even picked over, it was art. Her eyebrows lifted when she spotted me loitering, nonplussed by my appearance. It fascinated me how easily she could convey her emotions by moving the muscles in her face. Some people were hard to read, but Bea broadcasted what she was feeling loud and clear. I picked up a pink macaron. "Did you make this?" "What are the chances you'd be attending the same event I was hired to cater?" she countered. "Not high, since I rarely go to these things." I brought the macaron to my mouth and paused. "Was this made by you?" She rubbed her lips together, crinkled her nose, then nodded. "The macarons, yes. The mousse cups too. The rest comes from a bakery I collaborate with." I popped the whole macaron into my mouth-a mistake, probably, since it was bigger than I'd expected and I'd never actually eaten one before. Luckily, it tasted as good as it looked. Spitting it out into a napkin wouldn't have impressed Bea. She watched me, her lips rolled over her teeth. When I swallowed, she asked, "Good?" "Yes. The best thing I've ever tasted." I grabbed one of the last cups of mousse, impressed there was already a spoon with it. I took a smaller, more cautious bite of this one, but I needn't have worried. "This is just as delicious. You're very talented, Bea." Her cheeks glowed a faint rose as she began to place fresh desserts on the table. "It isn't a big deal, but I'm glad you like them." Several people approached the table, so I moved closer to her. "How are you?" "Fine," she murmured. "A little flustered you're here. I didn't expect to see you again until next week." She plucked the mousse cup from my hand when I finished, replacing it with a chocolate macaron. This one, I ate slower, paying attention to the subtle notes in the flavor. I wasn't really a sweets person, but she was well on her way to converting me. "I told you my intentions," I reminded her. "I won't exactly be able to prove I'm a safe bet if we don't see each other." I had been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to approach her. That had been a mistake-one I wouldn't make again. Bea would only understand I meant what I said through my actions. Waiting for her to come to me wouldn't get me anywhere. "I'm not a guest here, Tore. This is my job." "I know." I grazed my hand over her back-just for a moment, and only because I couldn't help myself. "I won't keep you from it." She moved along the table, straightening and refilling, graciously answering questions when she was interrupted by guests. This was a new side to Bea I was pleased to get to observe. I knew she was doing well in her business, but getting to see her in her element was a real pleasure I hadn't expected. Once the dessert table was reset, I followed Bea and her cart toward the kitchen. Before we reached the door, she stopped and faced me. "I saw you talking to the mayor earlier." "Ah, yes. Sam thinks it's important to keep open lines of communication with Dean." Her eyes flared. "Dean? You're on a first-name basis with Dean Caruthers?" "Sure." I pushed my glasses up my nose, then dropped my hands to my sides, forcing them to be still. "He asked me to call him by his first name. It would be disrespectful to call him anything else." Her teeth were perfectly white and square, but what I loved most was how her canines jutted out just a little past her incisors. When she bit her bottom lip, she looked like a cute little vampire. "That's true," she murmured. "I'm surprised you come to things like this. Doesn't seem like your scene." "It's very much not. Small talk is a waste of time, and that's all that goes on. I'd rather spend two minutes making a donation than two hours speaking to people who think they have something to gain by making a connection to me." I shuddered involuntarily. "It seems small talk is par for the course when you're a bajillionaire." I laughed. "I don't recall learning that figure in math class." "That's because you only took Calculus 700. We covered bajillions in remedial math since we'd all have to bow to our corporate overlords one day." "Bea..." I shook my head, "I can't imagine you've ever bowed to anyone." She shrugged. "We all have bosses." Then she grabbed the end of my tie and gave it two sharp tugs. "Except you, of course. You're the boss of them all." "Even I answer to investors and clients." "Technically speaking. But they know you hold all their secrets in the palm of your hand. If they sass you, you could infect their systems with never-ending pop-ups." I stared at her for a beat before laughter burst out of me. Bea's brand of teasing was my favorite. Quite possibly the only I'd ever enjoyed. It was blunt, easy to discern, and traveled right to the epicenter of my sense of humor. She glared at me, though there was no heat behind it. "Pop-ups are no laughing matter, Tore." My grin widened. It was all I could do not to pull her into my arms and kiss her pretty mouth. "No one sasses me but you, Bea." "I noticed you didn't deny the pop-up threat." "I can't tell you my corporate secrets. Not yet, at least." She canted her head. "Not yet?" I leaned toward her, dropping my voice. "If you were mine, there would be no secrets between us. Nothing you couldn't ask me. It would all be yours." She retreated a step. "I...don't know what to say. But I should probably get back to the kitchen. There was a fire incident earlier, and I...yeah. I have to go." I skimmed my hand down the length of her arm, catching her fingers briefly. It was hell to let go, but I had no choice. The last thing I wanted was to put Bea in a situation that would compromise her professionalism, but I couldn't allow her to walk away without touching her skin. I just couldn't. "I'm glad I saw you." Her lips parted, and her eyes darted back and forth between mine. "Me too. It was a nice surprise." Then she squared her shoulders and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her cart. "Say hi to Dean and Sam for me." I should have let her walk away, get back to her job, but I found I wasn't fully in control of what came out of my mouth when I was around her. "Beatrice?" She stopped, her cheeks rounding as she gave me a little smile. "Yes, Salvatore?" "Can I take you out to dinner tonight?" Still smiling, she shook her head. "I'm working tonight." That displeased me. Bea should have been making more than enough money to quit her second job, but she hadn't. I'd have to look into it. "Can I pick you up from work and drive you home?" She crinkled her nose, and I braced myself for rejection. I expected it, but that didn't mean it wasn't disappointing. "It's not a long drive," she replied, taking me aback. "That's fine." She groaned softly. "This feels like déjà vu. I don't know why I'm thinking about saying yes..." "There's not a chance I won't show up," I added. Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I think...I'm not sure enough to say yes to you." "I understand. I didn't think you'd accept, but I had to try." "You really didn't have to." "No, I did. There was no possible way my brain would have allowed me to walk away from you without asking." She blinked several times, then her eyes crinkled, and she snorted softly. "Maybe...ask again another time." "My brain sort of requires it." For some reason, that made her laugh. As she headed into the kitchen, she muttered, "Silly brain." I was still smiling when Sam caught up to me a few minutes later. He wasn't. "You disappeared," he remarked. "Dean wasn't impressed." "I had nothing left to say. Besides, you always do fine without me." I started for the dessert table again, Sam hot on my heels. "You should try the macarons." Then again, on second thought, I'd rather he not. It might have been crazy, but I didn't want him tasting something Bea had made. In fact, if it wouldn't have made me look like a lunatic, I would have packed up all the macarons and mousse cups to keep for myself. "I'm not really a fan," Sam stated. I turned toward him sharply, my gut knotted in barbed wire. "Of macarons in general or these in particular?" He held his hands up. "Hey, don't give me that pissy look. I'm not insulting your waitress. It's not personal. I've never been a fan." "My waitress? Her name is Bea, as you well know." Sam chuckled. "Right. Bea. Did you know she'd be here? Is that why you showed?" "Of course it is." I never lied to Sam. There was no point-he knew me too well to fall for anything less than the full truth. Besides, I had nothing to hide from him. Well, except for the At Your Service app. But he didn't know it existed, so he wouldn't ask. He exhaled a long breath. "Are you seeing her?" "Not yet." "Now's not a great time for distractions. You have enough of those already." Those words landed wrong. "My family isn't a distraction." He instantly backpedaled. "I didn't mean it that way. Of course, they're not, and I get it's important to spend time with them. But we're on the cusp of the next level, and right now isn't-" "Sam"-I leveled him with a long, hard look-"this is not a conversation I'm willing to have." He started to argue, but the CFO of another tech company brushed by, giving us a nod. Once she passed, Sam focused on me. "You're right. This isn't the time nor the place for this conversation." He patted my shoulder. "We'll talk more on Monday." "We can," I agreed, "but not about Bea. She isn't up for discussion, and neither is my personal life." He jerked back. "So we're not friends anymore? We can't talk about anything personal?" "We are. But I have boundaries, and this is one of them. If I talk to you about Bea, it'll be as my friend, not my business partner." A million emotions flashed across his face, but none stayed long enough for me to decipher. Finally, he settled on an affable smirk, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Lately, we'd been at odds more than not. It was worrying. "Got the message, loud and clear." He chuckled. "Though the way she was looking at you, you might have your work cut out for you." He wasn't wrong about that... I was looking forward to every minute of it. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!