Page 86 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“You’re making pies.” Maddie grinned. “It smells delicious in here.”
“I’ll take Eloise upstairs and get her ready for bed,” Ashton said.
“I can’t believe he was helping you,” Maddie whispered.
“I can’t either.” I laughed.
“Tomorrow is my day off. I can come by and help you. I know the fall festival is this weekend.”
“That would be great. You’re a lifesaver.” I hugged her.
After she left, I said good night to Eloise and began cleaning up the kitchen. Ashton walked in, grabbed a knife from the drawer, and cut a slice of the peach walnut pie I had made.
“Wow. This is crazy good,” he said. “I love the walnuts.”
“Thanks. I’m happy you like it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ashton
It was the day of the fall festival. I had rented a van to transport all sixty-five pies Charlotte had made. She was only supposed to make fifty, but decided she needed more last night, and was up until one thirty a.m. baking.
The tension between us lessened. I wouldn’t say we were in a great place, because we weren’t. It was just average. And the more time that passed, the more I found myself missing her, even though she lived in my home. What Charlotte didn’t know was that I had hired a crew to help transport the pies from the van into Central Park.
“What’s this? Who are they?” Charlotte asked as four men approached the van.
“Those are the guys who are going to transport the pies to your table.”
“Why? We could have done it ourselves, Ashton.”
“You’ve done enough with all the baking. And frankly, I didn’t feel like taking sixty-five pies and a few bins from the van, loading them onto a cart, and pushing it through Central Park.”
“You’re lazy.” She smiled.
“I know.” I winked.
Thank God it was a sunny day and no rain was forecasted. The crisp autumn air carried a mingled scent of cinnamon, pumpkin, and wood smoke as I held Eloise’s hand, and the leaves crunched under our feet as we walked along the pathways of Central Park.
“Daddy, look!” Eloise tugged on my hand, pointing toward a face-painting booth that was being set up. “I want my face painted. Please, Dad.”
“After we help Charlotte set up her booth,” I promised.
The men with the pies and Charlotte walked a few feet ahead of us. When we reached her booth, she removed a rust-colored tablecloth with leaves and pumpkins on it and spread it across the elongated table. Then she removed the sign she had printed with the words: The Cozy Crumb. It was a cute name and fit her business perfectly.
“I’m here. I’m here.” A woman walked over and hugged Charlotte. “You must be Ashton. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I was sure she had.
“Ashton, this is my cousin, Melissa.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled.
“And you must be, Eloise.” She hugged her. “You are way too cute.”
“If you want to take Eloise around the festival, go ahead,” Charlotte said. “There’s so much to see and do, and I don’t want her to miss any of it.”
