Page 8 of The Revenge Plan

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“You’re late.” He said as soon as I came. It was an upscale Manhattan shop with interior furnishings ripped straight from a nineteenth century French cake shop. He wasn’t wrong, I was late. Traffic had been rough and had doubled my estimated time.

“Good morning to you too. Hi Shelly.” She was startled at the greeting.

Shelly was looking sleek in a tight hair ponytail and long dress. There was a giant table book lying between them on the sofa. She lifted it and moved aside to give me space. The woman opposite them, who I assumed was the patisserie looked at me in recognition, but said nothing. Her eyes kept wondering toward me throughout the entire thing. I had gotten used to the casual recognition from people who were too embarrassed to admit they follow gossip blogs. At the center was a French styled table with plates of an assortment of cakes.

“You had already started?” I asked when I sat down. My leg brushed his, and I didn’t fail to notice the electricity that buzzed when I did so. I hated that he still could elicit a reaction from me without even moving.

“We were waiting for you.” His response was chilly and lacked any affection. He sat rigid like a statue and stared at me with daggers in his eyes. “How dare I hold him up?” those cold eyes said.

“But not for long,” the wedding planner sang trying to distill the tension.

We tasted the cakes. They were all heavenly. The patisserie knew what she was doing. I asked to take a few samples home, a request that garnered a stare from Caiden. The apple and vanilla one was the best of all. For the design, I chose a nine-tier white pearl cake with gold floral accents. Only because it was the most expensive. That’s what he wanted, right? When he saw my choice, because Caiden had done nothing but take calls and text the entire time, he simply shrugged and paid the deposit. He seemed uninterested, even though he insisted to be involved every time.

“Why are you here?” I asked him when we were out of the shop. I had a box filled with samples in my hand.

He directed me to his town car, “What do you mean?”

“Here.” I said, waving at the cake shop behind us, “Isn’t it all supposed to be a business deal for you.”

He strolled to the car where the chauffeur was waiting for us with the door open. We both got in, “What’s wrong with a husband wanting to make sure his future wife gets the biggest wedding of the year?”

“Liar.”

“Fine. You got me. I want to make sure you don’t waste my money. Is that what you want to hear?”

I chuckled. If only he knew how much I hated spending his money, “I’m glad you’re here to rein me in. Otherwise I would have bought the entire shop.”

“Sarcasm suits you very well.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention outside.

“Where are you going after this? A lunch I need to drop you off to?”

“I have to—” I was about to tell him to go to work, but I figured he wouldn’t believe me. There was also a part of me that didn’t want him to know what I did for a living. Let him think I was a party girl. It would make things so much easier. Plus, I knew he had an ulterior motive to this sham marriage. His ultimate goal was to destroy us. Me especially. I would not give him another weapon he could later use against me. “You can drop me off at the coffee shop over there.” It was closer to where I worked, about six blocks close, and I was fine with walking.

He peered outside the window. “Meeting someone?”

“What’s it to you?” The car stopped, and I was about to get out when he shifted in his seat, grabbed my wrist, and drew me to him. The box in my lap almost fell as it tilted on my knees, “If you’re dating someone else, cut it off.”

“Why do you care?”

“We’re engaged. I don’t want some gossip rag making a fool out of me.”

I twisted in his grip such that barely an inch separated us. We were so close we could almost kiss. Will we kiss at the wedding? Would he be a good kisser? The thought rang like a bell as images of him and making out in this car flashed in my head.

“What about you?” I said, “Will you stick to the same deal or will you be sleeping with every model in town?”

He flinched.

“I read the papers too.” The car went quiet. I could hear my heartbeat accelerate. I became aware of him, his cologne that had been teasing my senses ever since the cake shop, his lips that I now had a sudden urge to taste.

“I’m not currently dating anyone,” his sooty eyelashes fluttered as his gaze went from my eyes to my lips, “And the same should go for you as well,” he said. I could feel My throat constrict. I made a move to let go, but he drew me further into him such that our hips touched, “throughout the duration of our wedding at least.”

I tried to sound like the cool sophisticated socialite he thought I was. “I can work with that.”

“Good.”

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