I hang up the phone.
“I thought you had plans, why are you here this late?”
“Shouldn’t you be annoying someone else? Or working, maybe?”
He smirks, that infuriatingly charming smirk that probably makes women swoon. “I own the company. I can do whatever I want.”
“Must be nice. What brings you back here? Didn’t get enough of my fabulous customer service earlier?”
He leans casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling. “I saw your lights on and got worried. Also, I came to show you my progress.”
“Your progress?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I started working on the website.”
My jaw drops a little. “You what?”
“Started building it. I’ve got a prototype if you want to take a look.” His voice is so casual, as if he hasn’t just upended my entire day with that statement.
I want to be mad. I should be mad. He’s just gone ahead and done this without even asking me. But...I’m not mad. I’m intrigued.
“You didn’t think to ask me first?”
He shrugs, unbothered. “I figured you’d want to see it before deciding whether to move forward. Think of it as a free consultation.”
I bite my lip, torn between irritation and curiosity. “Show me.”
He pulls out his phone and taps the screen several times before holding it out to me. I take it, trying to maintain my composure as I scroll through the site he’s created.
It’s clean, elegant, and exactly what I didn’t realize I needed. The images of my work, candies, cakes, decorations—the whole deal—are front and center, beautifully displayed. The layout is intuitive, the colors match my brand perfectly, and the way he’s organized everything...it’s just impressive.
I glance up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s...it’s really good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I hate that you did this without asking,” I admit, but there’s no real heat in my words. “But damn, it looks amazing.”
“I knew you’d come around,” he says, that smirk still firmly in place.
I hand his phone back, crossing my arms as I lean against the counter. “You know, most people would find it presumptuous that you just went ahead and did this.”
“You’re not most people, Serena. You’re someone who’s going to take this place to the next level, whether you realize it or not.”
I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if I’m flattered or annoyed. “You seem pretty confident for a man who wants to shut me down.”
He sighs and hangs his head. “I know what you’re capable of. And you’ve given me better insight into how incredible this place can be. You could be doing events all over the city, catering to clients who would pay top dollar for your skills. You’ve got the talent, the drive, everything you need to make it happen.”
“Except the desire,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.
“You’re afraid of growing too big.”
It’s not a question, and it hits uncomfortably close to the truth. “I just...I like what I’m doing now. It’s manageable. I’m not sure I want to deal with all the extra stress.”
“Or the extra success?”
“I’m not afraid of success.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he quips, leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “You’re holding yourself back, Serena. You’re playing it safe.”