Epilogue Two
IT HAPPENED IN PARIS
Richard Buchanan
“What do you mean, no cake?” I scowled at Rex. Ever since I heard there’d be fifty flavors of cake—well, more like ten—it was the one thing I looked forward to other than roasting my brother during my Best Man speech.
“The Cupcake Cottage delivery van broke down on the way. Vivian’s stuck somewhere between Holly Creek and the city in a place called Middletown. Mother’s having a fit that her friends will only have pies to eat and no cake.” He shook his head. “Chelsea texted me, not too upset, only disappointed that her friend won’t get the exposure for her incredible cake business she deserves.”
Rex raved about these cakes for the past few months. My mouth already watered having perused the reception setup with him and read through the cake menu card. This wouldn’t do. I sprang into action.
“No cake? Not on my watch. I can have my helicopter in the air within the hour. Can you text me where she is?” I had my phone out already, dialing the heliport I co-owned with a buddy of mine to put them on notice and get my chopper ready.
“You’d do this? I mean, it’s only cake. Not to mention that if you’re not back in time, we’ll have a greater problem with Miriam being pissed if she’s missing a son at the nuptials.”
“It’d be cutting it close, but…” I looked at the time and estimated how long this journey would take. Not usually the hero type, I hoped I wasn’t being too optimistic. “I can do this, and I will for you, little brother. Your happiness today means the world to me.”
He slapped my shoulder with a goofy grin. “Okay then, Operation Cake it is. Me, Chelsea, Mom, hell, the entire guest list is counting on you. No pressure.”
“You just be ready to smash cake into Chelsea’s face. I got this.”
“Ah, well, I’m under strict orders by Miriam that there’ll be no cake smashing. ‘There’s nothing more tacky at a wedding than seeing a poor bride’s face ruined with icing.’ ”
He used an excellent imitation of Mom’s voice, and I rushed away, chortling.
An hour later, I was airborne and heading north to Middletown. Nothing I loved better than flying my chopper. I tried flying small aircraft long ago as well. In fact, I still owned a private jet rental company that served high-end clientele like CEO’s and celebrities. But sitting in a helicopter with a stick between my legs controlling the tilt of the craft was almost better than holding my cock.
My ex fiancee hated me flying, claiming it terrified her to fly with me. I used to think she got scared worrying about me crashing, but only after I found out what a money-grabbing bitch she was did I realize she was only worried about her own neck.
What a mistake she was. Three years of my life wasted with that woman. About two-point-nine of which I was foolishly in love, unaware the entire time of her scheming behind my back for my money with the idiot she was cheating with, including kidnapping me and taking my life. Miriam didn’t know that part of it, though, and Rex vowed not to tell her.
Because of Jan—a name I hated even saying in my head with a passion—I’d never trust another woman again.
Except Chelsea; I trust her, of course. Somehow, I believed she and Rex were perfect for each other. I doubted I’d ever find something like they had, not that I was looking.
These days, the playboy life suited me fine, fucking around, leaving before things got complicated. I was getting too old for dating nonsense, anyway. Since walking away from my CEO position at Buchanan Energy, I travelled the globe, investing in businesses and people, and my reputation grew. Recently, a news investment show hailed me as investor of the year and one to watch.
A small part of me envied my brother, though, being able to be intimate and cozy with one special woman. Especially now, around the holidays which can get pretty lonely. But it was only one week a year.
Rex found a keeper, and good for him. I’d stay in my single lane and be happy for them from afar. I didn’t need any of that marriage crap rubbing off on me.
Before long, I made record time landing at the State Hill Heliport and borrowed the manager’s car. Within minutes, I arrived at the gas station and spotted a rusty blue van off to the side with a magnetic sign on the side reading The Cupcake Cottage. I parked behind it and must have looked funny, running up in a tuxedo, trying to avoid slushy snow puddles mucking up my shiny leather shoes.
“Vivian?” I called out.
A woman exited the driver’s side. When I got within a few feet of her, her face took on a look of horror.
“Vivian?” I asked again, and it took her a few seconds to answer as she continued to stare at me.
“Y-yes. That’s me.” She appeared to shake off whatever initially inflicted her.
“I’m your knight in shining armor,” I said. She suddenly puttered as if choking on something. “Are you okay? I was sent here to rescue you and the cake. Where is it?”
What was with this beautiful woman, frozen to the spot and not moving? If I wasn’t in such a rush, I’d check her out in further detail, but a glance at the time on my phone sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins. We needed to leave now if I was going to avoid the wrath of Miriam.
“ You’re Richard? Rex’s brother?” She asked.
“Last I checked, yes. Is the cake back here?” I took the liberty of pulling the side van door open, sliding it back, revealing dozens of cake boxes of all different sizes, a plastic bin of other paraphernalia, and her suitcase. “Look, we gotta go. Let’s get this stuff into my helicopter quickly.”
I worried, but with some strategic packing, it all fit in the back seat of the chopper. Thunder clapped in the distance to the north. If we got going now, we’d out fly the storm.
I held my hand out to her. “You’ll have to take the co-pilot seat up front next to me.”
She bypassed my hand and climbed in, giving me a full view of her nice ass in her jeans. I rolled my eyes. Exactly what I didn’t need right now was to ogle the small town baker.
When she fumbled with the seat belt, I helped her out. “Here, let me do it.”
Her breath caught while I fastened the belt around her shoulders, brushing her chest, but I was all business, all about safety. Once every buckle clicked into place, my eyes lifted to hers—Holy Hell.
Sky blue eyes under chestnut hair with a heart-shaped face caught me off-guard, and I blinked twice. A strong sense of déjà vu overwhelmed me, but it was ridiculous. I’d only stepped foot in Holly Creek once over the summer when Chelsea and Rex hosted a gathering for the bridesmaids and groomsmen there. And she wasn’t present for it.
I placed the headphones over her ears and settled into the pilot’s seat. With the nose pointed toward New York City, I took off and noticed her white knuckles on the seat.
“It’ll be about an hour's flight time.” I spoke into the microphone which connected to the speakers in the headphones and chuckled. “I take it you’ve never flown in a helicopter before?”
“Never. I don’t want to die.” A quick glance showed her eyes squeezed shut.
“Hey, Vivian? Relax, okay? I’ve been flying for years and never had a problem. Don’t worry. You and the cakes are safe with me.”
“Knock on wood,” she said, her tone soft. My brow furrowed at this. For some reason, those words spoken from her lips sounded way too familiar. Anyway, I needed to keep her talking and get her to relax or it’d be a long ride for her.
“Have you ever lived in New York City?”
“No. Born and raised in Holly Creek.”
“You’ve never lived anywhere else?”
Her head snapped at me. “Paris…for a few years. I studied and worked under a famous pastry chef.”
Her voice held a sultry, husky quality, so familiar to me. As if I’d spent an evening with her in the past, telling me everything she loved about my cock and my fingers and how good I was making her feel. Something I’d never likely forget.
But that was silly. Surely I’d remember her if I slept with her somewhere before. Wouldn’t I?
“Ah, Paris. One of my favorite places on the planet.” I smiled, glad for one thing in common between us to talk about on the way back to the Plaza.
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