My Cookie (A Dirty Boss Romance Book 2) Read online

  I step inside the kitchen setup that is larger than I expected. The room is packed with ten different employers looking for the best along with their staff and the hosts of this special event, the local culinary school. Still, none of that matters when I see who I’ve been thinking about from the second she slipped from my arms this morning. Marilyn is standing behind one of the working stations.

  A young man is speaking with her, and he’s a little too close for my liking. Doesn’t he realize that she belongs to me? Ma marguerite screamed my name all night long after I ripped through her innocence. I walk past all the other potential employers, seeing my brother standing there with a smirk on his smug face. I wink at him and then walk straight up to her station.

  “Ma marguerite, so what will you be making me today?” She gasps and nearly stumbles backward, but I grab her by her elbow, catching her. It’s clear that my identity takes her by surprise.

  “Julien, you’re one of the employers.”

  I shake my head because there’s no way I’d let her work for anyone else. “No, I’m now your employer. You may finish your dessert, but you will be working alongside me.”

  “You don’t even know if I’m a good fit.”

  A grin spreads over my face. “That is a lie. I know you are. I believe we were a great fit.”

  “Excuse me, but she’s trying to bake here.”

  “Who is he, Marilyn?” I growl, staring down at the thinner young guy who is clearly trying to insert himself between Marilyn and me. That’s not going to happen because not a soul will come between us.

  “This is my classmate Damon.”

  “Then shouldn’t you be at your own station and away from her?” I snarl at him. He backs up.

  “Watch it, Lynny. He’s after more than just your cookies.” I shrug, and she smiles while shaking her head as Damon walks back to his station.

  I lean in and whisper, “I’ve had your cookie, and I want more. So is this why you disappeared?”

  “Yes, but can we talk about this later?” she insists.

  “I suppose, but this doesn’t mean you’re going to work for anyone else but me.”

  She waves her hands toward me, shooing me away, but it will do her no good. “Well, let me do my thing and you can go back to your busy schedule. It will take me about forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll stay and watch.”

  “Okay. The pressure’s on.” She smiles and then gets to work, doing her best to ignore the hovering I’m doing. I can’t help myself. It has nothing to do with the fact that she’s trying out for the job. In fact, everyone gets a simple baking task. A simple peanut butter cookie or a brownie recipe from scratch, and if they present it as I expect, then I give them a chance—but I simply want to watch her in action.

  She moves delicately yet rapidly, effortlessly mixing, and I see she’s making cupcakes. “Do you have any allergies, Chef Beaumont?”

  “Julien. And no, I don’t have any,” I remind her. After all, I’ve eaten more than just her baked goodies.

  “Good. I think you’ll like these. It’s been a long time since I’ve made these, but depending on how fancy the event or what other desserts or dishes are served, it can be revised.”

  “Hello, Julien. Long time no see.” I turn and see Vanessa Sims, another baker who wanted more than a lesson in making soufflés with me, but she didn’t understand that I don’t like people.

  “For good reason, and it’s Mr. Beaumont.”

  Marilyn gasps with her mouth open. “Always so prudish. How can a man like you resist beauty?”

  “Ms. Shaw, will you excuse me? I must check on the other candidates.” I quickly move away from her before I say something rude.

  Chapter Five

  Marilyn

  “You’re wasting your time flirting with the man. I’m guessing he has something wrong with him in that department.” I’m about to teach this bitch some manners, but it’s clear she’s just salty. It’s hilarious that for a moment I was actually jealous.

  “Thank you for the unsolicited advice, but I need to finish working on my desserts, and Chef Beaumont’s affairs aren’t appropriate for discussion.”

  “Obviously you want to work for him, but honey, he’s hard to please.”

  “Vanessa, it’s good to see you again,” the guy who was with Julien yesterday says.

  “George, what is wrong with your brother?” she asks him so rudely, but her blatant ignorance erases some of my own. I know who he is now.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my brother. He just doesn’t deal with fake people, and you’re faker than artificial flavoring.” I clamp my lips together, fighting off a laugh.

  “Damn, Georgie, I thought you were sweeter than that bitter bitch.” She sashays away.

  “Oh, no. I guess I’ve lost her as a potential employer,” I say with a giggle, pressing my hand to my lips.

  “Like Julien would let you go anywhere he isn’t.” I watch him speaking to another woman across from me, but I know she’s a great baker and a married mother of two. Still, a twinge of jealousy shoots through me. It’s irrational and silly, but it still does.

  “I doubt it. He hasn’t tasted anything I’ve made yet.”

  “First, I have your records just like all the employers here, so I know that on paper you’re the most qualified candidate. Second, that man would take you if you didn’t know the oven from the damn cabinet. I’ve never seen my brother like that last night.”

  “Thanks for that. We both must not have been acting like ourselves. Excuse me, I need to finish making these cupcakes before I run out of time.”

  “I told you, you’re working for me,” Julien says, coming up to stand next to his brother. His eyes darken with intent as his voice deepens with each syllable. My panties are drenched under the yoga pants that I’d decided to wear for the competition. Although this is like a job interview, our clothes aren’t meant to be formal. It’s about being presentable while comfortable in the kitchen, and nothing screams flexibility and comfort like a great pair of stretchy black yoga pants that allow me to bend and move around effortlessly.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not still going to put out a great product. I take my skills extremely seriously.” I glare at him, giving him a warning not to press the issue. I’m already on edge with Julien and then that damn woman came along. From their frosty greeting I thought they were ex-lovers, but then it was clear he just can’t stand her and she doesn’t like it. She’d definitely been mistaken about his virility.

  He throws his hands up. “Fine, I’ll stand here and watch.”

  “I think we need to check out the other candidates as well. You need at least two qualified ones for the major event.”

  He shakes his head and crosses his muscular arms over his thick, muscled chest, staring at me as he speaks to his brother. “I know that, and I’ve already visited three stations. I will wait until it’s time to test every dessert.”

  Another one of the employers steps up to my table where I’m trying to prepare my icings. “Hello, Miss Shaw. I’ve been anxious to try your desserts. I’ve heard they’re the best.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, but I put a lot of effort into them.”

  “You’re welcome to have a sample when they’re done, but Miss Shaw has already been offered a spot at my bakery and has accepted.”

  “I haven’t accepted anything. Now, gentlemen, if you’ll please excuse me, I need to finish working.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Julien growls.

  “Of course, Miss Shaw,” George says and then takes his brother by the elbow, guiding him away, even though Julien refuses to take his eyes off me until he has no choice.

  The other man turns to Damon’s station to watch him work. That’s when I notice that Damon’s working hard. I return my attention to my cupcakes, which are insanely important to me even if Julien demands I work for him. It’s probably not going to be a long employment. Couples rarely make it working together. I consider my bro
ther and his wife the exception and not the rule. Then again, they’ve only been married for a couple of months.

  For the next twenty minutes, I create some cupcake decorations before taking the cupcakes out of the oven to put them on the cooling racks. Once they’re set in the freezer, I come back to making my cupcake designs and step on something squishy. Looking down at my foot, I see my green icing smeared all over. One of my pastry bags must have fallen on the floor when I was rushing to put everything in the fridge.

  After taking five minutes to clean up the mess, I have to prep a much smaller piping bag with the rest of the green icing I prepared that didn’t end up ruined. Finally, I pull out the cupcakes and the flower toppers I made out of icing. Then I pipe on some icing to adhere them to the cooled tops. For the finishing touch, I added a few more flowers and leaves to each before plating the twenty-four cupcakes I was required to make.

  “You should be careful, Lynny. He’s a player. Last night he was all over some whore in an elevator. She was in a tight dress and moaning wildly, so he’s just gonna screw you and leave.” So it was Damon outside the elevator.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, bending down into the cabinet below, pretending to look for something in an attempt to hide the blush.

  “These are beautiful, ma marguerite.” I don’t know why he calls me that or what it means, but he’s called me that randomly since last night. It means something, and when I get a chance, I will look it up.

  “Thank you,” I blush and raise my gaze to Julien to see his eyes laser-focused on my mouth like he’s ready to pounce around the metal table that stands between us.

  Several of the employers arrive at my station to sample my desserts now that my treats have been set out.

  “So what are the flavors?” Mrs. Collins asks, stepping forward to examine the design on them. She’s an older woman with pinned-back gray hair. From her name tag, I can see she’s from a bakery in New Lenox.

  “We have a red velvet with a cream-cheese filling, and this one here is a peanut butter chocolate cupcake.”

  “They look too good to bite into,” another voice utters, and that’s when I recognize a baker from Michigan Ave.

  “Thank you. I made them in a rush today, but I’ve been working on the recipe for years.” Julien is the first to grab a fork and peel the wrapping. Stabbing through the beautiful design with the side of his utensil, he splits the cake to see the interior. “The texture is perfect.” Making sure to get every section on his fork, Julien brings it to his mouth and bites down. A moan escapes involuntarily, and I do my best to fight my own whimper. The way his throat moves, I want to reach over and lick that strong column.

  “The flavor of the red velvet, which isn’t usually a favorite, has been moved up. I can taste every flavor. Now, it’s time for the other one,” he growls, slicing his fork into the next one.

  “I thought I loved the first one, but damn, the second is even better,” Mr. Greenway from Michigan Ave Bakery says. It’s then that I realize that everyone else has grabbed cupcakes. I’d been so wrapped up in watching the way Julien ate my cupcake, I missed several others taking a sample.

  “You’re hired, Miss Shaw,” Julien states in front of everyone else, leaving no room for them to argue as they swallow their bite down.

  “Yay. Are you serious?” I ask, wondering if he really enjoyed my cupcakes.

  “Yes. It seems you live up to your hype. I’m glad to have you join my team.”

  “Thank you. I’m so excited. When do I start?” A bunch of downtrodden faces and a couple of groans come from around me.

  “When it doesn’t work out, you can have a position at my bakery.”

  “Same here, Miss Shaw. Here’s my card,” Mr. Greenway offers, handing me a business card, but Julien snatches it from my fingers and hands it to his brother.

  “Deal with that,” he orders.

  “Yes, Julien.” His brother holds back a laugh.

  “Congratulations, Miss Shaw. Now that you’ve finished and have nailed a spot like I expected, you can leave at any time,” my former school director says. “The staff will clean up the kitchen area.” They don’t want us wandering to the other candidates’ stations because they don’t want any stealing of ideas or assisting.

  “Thank you. I need to call my brother.” He will be so proud of me.

  “What’s your room number?” Julien asks.

  “313, but I’m actually checked out already.”

  “I will be looking for you.”

  “Do you need me to fill out some forms?”

  “Yes, fill this out.” George hands me his tablet. I grab the tablet and fill out a quick two-page employment form. “The rest of the paperwork can be done at the office.”

  I leave the hotel, feeling a vast array of emotions. I’m brimming with excitement and smiling from ear to ear so much that I’m home without remembering the short drive. Between last night’s wild, dirty encounter to this morning’s shocking and successful performance, I’m vibrating with energy.

  As soon as I toss my purse on the sofa, I dial my brother’s number. I know it’s during his workday and he’s busy, but he wanted me to call and I can’t wait.

  He answers, and without missing a beat, says, “How did it go?”

  “I got the job,” I squeal, practically dancing around the room.

  “What? Congratulations. I knew you would. So when do you start?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “That’s pretty quick.” I don’t like that switch in his tone. “What company are you working for?”

  “I’m working for Julien Beaumont and his bakeries, Les Frères.”

  “Do you mean the man you were seen at the hotel with last night?” he says.

  “How did you…? Never mind.” I already know the answer. Even though he’s given me some distance, his security isn’t entirely gone. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’m your brother. I care about you, and I don’t like this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s only hiring you to get in your pants.” Yes, I’m livid as can be. He’s already been in my pants. He doesn’t need to hire me for that.

  “Oh, hell, no! What the fuck? Jack, I can’t even believe you. You of all people should fucking talk. I can’t even. I just can’t. Thanks, bro.” I hang up on my brother because there’s no way in hell I can talk to him right now, maybe ever. I pace back and forth before collapsing on my sofa.

  I can’t believe he’d say something like that. Not that he’s not completely wrong. Julien and I crossed every single professional boundary until I was screaming his name a couple of times, but I earned my place as a baker as well. Why the fuck does it matter that we’re attracted to each other? I’m a fabulous baker. I’m incredible, and Jack should know it. He was willing to pay for my own bakery. Then again, maybe Jack only wanted to do it so I’d feel better and was trying to take care of me. For all I know, he'd probably have a standing company order to keep me in business.

  Tears stream down my face while I sit on my sofa, letting my head fall back against the headrest as the joy of today fades away. I can’t believe I was so proud of myself. The shame of sleeping with my boss hits me. I run into the bathroom and strip down, showering off his scent, but I can’t erase his touch.

  My phone rings on the cushion next to me. I scoop it up only to see Jack’s name, so I send it to voicemail. Seconds later it rings again, so I send it to voicemail and then this time, I turn it off. He has nothing to say to me that I want to listen to.

  I cry myself into a deep sleep, letting the weight of today seep through my bones.

  Chapter Six

  Julien

  After spending another hour in the bake-off tasting other desserts and debating on other candidates, I selected one other to join my team: a married woman who I was introduced to at the beginning of the day. Her skills are nearly up there with my dear Marilyn who is an expert in baking. I cannot believe that not only did I meet my soul mate, but
that she is also a magician in the kitchen as well.

  I’m just about to walk out with George by my side when that fuck from earlier comes up to me. “You’ve messed with the wrong girl. Lynny’s mine, and I’ve worked really hard to nail her. I won’t let it be ruined just so she can advance her career. Why don’t you go back to that whore you had last night?”

  “Boy, I will destroy you.” I’m about to swing at him when my brother holds me back.

  “Remember where we are, Julien. You have to get back to your woman. Ignore this asshole. She’s your girl now, and he’s only huffing and puffing because he can’t have her.”

  “You’re right.” I brush off my brother’s hold and look right at that smug asshole and say, “She’s mine—she knows it, I know it, and everyone who could hear her calling my name last night knows it, so stay away from her or I’ll end you.” I walk out because I need to hold ma beauté.

  We check out of my hotel room twenty minutes later, and I have everything loaded into my SUV and then George drives me over to her apartment where I see a handsome bastard in a suit walking up her steps.

  I move right past him as his phone rings and he stops to answer it. I knock on her door but she doesn’t answer, so I pound hard. “Ma chèrie, open up.”

  “Julien?” I hear her sweet voice that cracks, and I wonder what the fuck is wrong and who this asshole is. How many men do I have to fend off this delicate creature in a given day? It doesn’t matter as I’ll send them all running because she’s mine.

  “Ma chèrie, it’s me.”

  “One moment,” she says before I hear the lock unclick.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” the asshole next to me growls, attempting to challenge me, but he doesn’t have a clue that before I became one of the world’s best bakers, my brother and I grew up on the streets fighting for scraps—quite literally.

  “None of your business, and who the fuck are you?” I practically spit out, ready to beat him down as the door opens.

  “Her brother.”