Page 41 of Desserts for Stressed People

He threads a hand through his dark hair. “You should have set clearer terms. The way I see it, I have unlimited attempts and four whole weeks to bake your favorite dessert. And I’m your boss.”

I scoff. He heard what I said yesterday about desserts, right? “So you suggest Irollback to my floor? I can’t live off pastries for a month.”

“Unlimited attempts. Dessert isn’t a prize, Heaven, and you shouldn’t play the unhappiness game.” He gives me a light smile. “From what I can tell, you could use some dessert in your life.”

“But what makes it special is that I only get it when I deserve it,” I complain.

His head shakes. “What makes it special is that I baked it for you.” He points at the little box on my desk. “There’s my passion, my time, my efforts in there. Trust me, it’s special.”

He knows that’s not what I mean.

Staring down at the pastry, I swallow the extra saliva in my mouth. God, it looks amazing. “Fine. But—”

“No ‘but’, Heaven. You know, I could have you fired with a phone call. Killed with an email. Really, when Mr. Asshole says you should eat dessert, you eat damn dessert. You don’t want to mess with my assholeness.” When I burst into a fit of laughter, his whole face lightens up. It changes his features, makes him look younger, happier.Shane-er.“For me? Try it? Or even better...for you?”

For him? Yes. I’ll eat this delicious pastry for him. “Okay. Thank you.”

He nods, a victorious smile on his lips. “I’ll wait for your email. And get me an answer about the location to recommend to the clients.”

Before I can react, he’s out of the door and out of sight. Just me and this crunchy eclair with a brown glaze and the delicious filling I know it contains.

I switch the screen on and eye the box. I should probably grab a cup of coffee to enjoy with it, but I lack the self-control or the decency. Within seconds, I’m biting into my surprise breakfast. And, I mean—what can I say? His desserts live up to expectations.

I don’t know what’s better. The chocolate coating and friable dough swirling on top of my tongue, or the awareness that Shane baked that for me. It’s creamy, buttery, crunchy, sweet and rich. All the adjectives you’d want to use about dessert. And it’sfor me.

When we matched, I thought I’d never get to try Shane H.’s desserts, and here I am. I just ate the best eclair—hell, the best dessert—of my whole life, and he baked it for me. Not Nevaeh. Just plain old me.

Comes to think of it, the next four weeks might prove to be the best ones of my life.

* * *

Once the meetingwith my team ends, I prance back to the office, barely noticing the usual sting my heels conjure in my soles. I’m still more than exhausted since yesterday, but I can’t help my good mood.

I check the screen, and Shane has answered my email. A squeal explodes out of me as I click to open it.

From:Shane Hassholm ([email protected])

To:Heaven Wilson ([email protected])

Glad you enjoyed it. Not as glad I haven’t guessed right. Fortunately, I have unlimited attempts.

Still waiting for your answer about the location.

Tick, tock.

Shane Hassholm

Events Director at IMP

Glancing at the presentation of the locations, I sigh. I’ve included all three mansions we saw yesterday, but I’m still not sure which to recommend. Corinne said she’d choose the third one, but after all, she wasn’t there.

I scroll from one page to the other, and when I still can’t decide, I focus on the rest of my to-do list—longer by the minute. We’ve selected two caterers, and the clients have sent Shane a list of songs they’d like the band to play. There’s also going to be a DJ—I am not sure why. There are two of those to be vetted too.

Once I’m done answering a billion emails, an entire hour has gone by, and I’ve received five more in the meantime. With a groan, I open the first one, but before I can get to answering, my phone beeps. It’s RadaR.

Shit.

I grab it, waiting to see what Shane has sent Nevaeh now. It’s unusual, because he rarely texts me during the day, but I can’t say it doesn’t make my body tingle. It happens every time I receive one of his messages. I unlock my phone and check the notifications, my mirth disappearing immediately when I notice it’s Alex.

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