11. James
Chapter eleven
James
The grainy video loops on my phone screen: Exhibit A, Elena Avery, looking delightfully disheveled, walking through the moonlit woods like a startled forest nymph.
Exhibit B, captured mere minutes prior, one Dorian Beaumont, billionaire festival judge, walking the exact same path, attempting (and failing) to look nonchalant while straightening his expensive shirt. Oh, this is good. This is cinema .
I tuck my phone under the pillow and lean back on my hotel bed, a slow grin spreading across my face. Well, well, well. Little Miss Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt Elena has a few secrets tucked away with her piping bags, doesn't she?
When I’d impulsively decided to see where she was scurrying off to after closing her booth, purely out of idle curiosity, of course, I certainly wasn’t expecting to stumble upon a clandestine rendezvous with the festival’s head honcho. It’s almost too cliché. Almost.
Even this confusing, dark maze couldn’t rob me of the moment. Sure, I got lost for a bit. But my flair for drama led me right to the perfect vantage point, just in time to witness and record their perfectly timed, soap-worthy exits.
Is this footage proof of a disqualifiable offense? Probably. Does it raise reasonable suspicion? Without a doubt. Is it juicy? Absolutely.
I tap a thoughtful finger against my lips. My first, admittedly cynical, thought was the obvious one: she's angling for an advantage. Sleeping with a judge? Classic move. I’ve seen it play out at other competitions. It's tacky, but depressingly effective.
But… it doesn’t quite scan with Elena. There’s a certain earnestness about her, a genuine passion that’s hard to fake.
And Dorian Beaumont? The man’s practically a legend, renowned for his high standards and spotless integrity when it comes to pastries.
He wouldn’t compromise his reputation for a casual fling.
No, this has the distinct whiff of genuine, ill-advised mutual attraction.
Which, if I’m being honest, I can almost understand.
For a beta, Elena… well, she has a certain something .
A spark. And that surprisingly alluring scent she gives off, like sugar and sunshine, is definitely several notches above your average beta’s olfactory profile. Intriguing, to say the least.
Still, regardless of the motive, the evidence is undeniable.
Leverage. Beautiful, incriminating, potentially game-changing leverage.
One anonymous tip to the judges, complete with video attachment, and I’d bet there’s a 50/50 chance she’d be packing her whisks faster than you can say 'conflict of interest'.
Yet, there's something unsatisfying about winning because your competition gets booted. It's like being told you won a marathon because everyone else got food poisoning. It's technically a victory, but not one that proves anything.
No, my victory needs to feel real. I've worked too hard, sacrificed too much to get where I am today.
Those pre-dawn hours spent learning my craft, the endless practice while my father grumbled about me wasting my alpha potential on 'woman's work,' the crushing weight of culinary school debt… it all fuels the fire.
So while I won't sabotage Elena to win, having insurance never hurts. Just in case she actually really is cheating. An alpha always prepares for every eventuality.
My strategic musings are interrupted by the muffled sound of voices from the hallway. Low, but distinct enough for my alpha hearing to snag keywords.
"—can't quite believe it myself, but Mitchell swears he saw them at The Tipsy Whisk. Yesterday." That’s judge Parker.
"Beaumont and Elena Avery? Before the festival even officially started? That’s… highly problematic." And that’s judge Chen. Sounding distinctly unamused.
I’m out of bed and pressed against the door faster than a soufflé collapses, straining to hear more.
"Mitchell said they looked very… friendly."
"If this is true, and they had a pre-existing relationship… Conflict of interest doesn't even begin to cover it. Automatic disqualification."
The voices fade as they head toward the elevators, leaving my mind racing. So, their little woodland tryst wasn’t a first-time offense? They were already acquainted? This is escalating from a small kitchen fire to a five-alarm blaze.
I lean back against the door, practically purring with satisfaction.
Well well . Given this delicious new intel (bless whatever lucky break put me in the same hotel as these two)… what should I do that's best for me ..?
A sudden, rather brilliant idea begins to form. An opportunity. A way to ensure a fair fight, and potentially gain a different kind of leverage over the surprisingly captivating Elena. Yes. This could work out very nicely indeed.
Key card palmed, I'm out the door and heading for the hotel bar, a plan already clicking into place.
Predictably, Parker and Chen are huddled at a quiet corner table, looking like they’re dissecting state secrets. They go conspicuously silent as I approach, which is all the confirmation I need.
"Good evening, esteemed judges," I say, flashing them my most disarmingly charming smile. "Mind if I join you for a nightcap? The festival air has made me surprisingly thirsty."
Parker eyes me narrowly. "Mr. Reynolds. We were actually talking about sensitive festival business."
"Perfect! That’s actually exactly what I was hoping to chat about," I say, sliding into the empty chair across from them before they have a chance to protest. "Couldn't help overhearing a bit of your conversation in the hallway. Sounded... intriguing."
Chen straightens, her bonded omega scent taking on a defensive note. "That was a private discussion, Mr. Reynolds."
"Of course, of course. But when it potentially involves the integrity of a competition we’re all invested in…" I let my voice trail off meaningfully. "Something about Mr. Beaumont and Miss Avery, was it?"
They exchange a quick, loaded glance. Parker leans in, his goatee adding an unnecessary layer of gravitas. "What do you know about it, Reynolds?" he asks, voice low.
I adopt an expression of mild concern. "Well, I do know that Dorian Beaumont and Elena Avery were seen in each other’s company," I say, carefully omitting the when, where, and the rather incriminating footage currently residing on my phone.
"So, you confirm the rumors!" Parker exclaims, his eyes narrowing. "This is a clear violation, a serious—"
"But there might be a slight misunderstanding," I interrupt smoothly, "well a pretty large one, actually. There is absolutely, positively nothing inappropriate happening between Mr. Beaumont and Miss Avery."
Parker's eyebrow rise. "You just said you know they were together."
"Yes. Talking. Strictly business." I lean back, projecting an air of relaxed confidence. "You see, Mr. Beaumont has taken a strong professional interest in Pierre's Bakery, where Elena is currently an apprentice."
"Pierre’s?" Chen scoffs. "Why on earth would Dorian Beaumont, of Beaumont Patisserie, care about a tiny, small-town bakery?"
I lower my voice, leaning in as if sharing a deeply confidential secret.
"It’s about the éclairs," I whisper dramatically.
"Apparently, Pierre has some highly coveted, proprietary éclair-making technique. Intellectual property, you understand. Beaumont is considering… an acquisition. To add Pierre’s unique methods to the Beaumont collection. "
Their surprise is almost comical. Perfect. The more outlandish the lie, the more likely people are to swallow it whole. It’s an old sales trick.
"Now, obviously," I continue, warming to my theme, "if word got out that a titan like Beaumont was sniffing around a local bakery, looking to buy it up, it could cause all sorts of trouble.
Real estate speculation, local panic ensuing, you name it.
So, naturally, he'd meet with the apprentice first, discreetly . Like in a noisy bar, late at night, where they wouldn’t be easily overheard?
" I let that sink in. "And wouldn't you agree that, in this setting, an innocent business meeting could easily be misinterpreted as… something more intimate?"
Chen still looks skeptical. "If this is all so top-secret, Mr. Reynolds, how is it that you know about it?"
"Ah, that's a good question!" I say, feigning understanding of their perfectly reasonable doubt.
"And the answer is simple. I know all this because I also know, with absolute certainty, that Elena couldn’t possibly be romantically entangled with Mr. Beaumont because…
" I pause, letting the suspense build, enjoying the rapt attention on their faces.
"Because, you see, she’s currently seeing me . "
The looks on their faces are priceless, like I just announced I'm secretly a unicorn.
"You? And Elena Avery?" Parker sputters, looking like I’ve just told him I can spin straw into gold.
I nod, allowing a small, almost shy smile to touch my lips.
"It’s a bit recent, still finding our feet.
We met at the Western Regional Baking Conference last spring.
They had an amazing keynote speaker on the molecular gastronomy of ganache by the way.
And we just… clicked." I sigh dramatically. "It was unexpected."
"But… but you're an alpha," Chen states, eyeing me as if I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head. "And she’s a beta."
I give a worldly, slightly weary shrug. "And Mr. Beaumont is also an alpha, yet you were perfectly willing to believe they might be an item.
Look, times are changing. Alpha-beta pairings, while not exactly front-page news, are becoming increasingly common, especially for those of us in demanding, creative professions.
We connect on a different level. Our shared passion for the art of pastry…
well, it transcends the more… traditional dynamics. "
Absolute BS, of course. Alpha-beta relationships are about as common as a perfectly tempered chocolate on a humid day.
Most alphas are drawn to omegas by biological imperative, just as omegas are drawn to alphas.
Betas, with their faint scents and lack of heats or ruts, typically pair with other betas.
But there are always exceptions, which makes my lie plausible enough to swallow.
"I… I see," Parker says slowly, stroking his chin, the cogs visibly turning in his head. "Yes, that… reframes the situation."
"Naturally, I’d appreciate your utmost discretion regarding my…
relationship with Elena," I add, leaning in again, lowering my voice to a confidential murmur. "It’s still pretty new, and we’d prefer not to become the subject of festival gossip.
You can imagine how awkward it would be, an alpha and a beta, competitors and teammates, romantically involved…
it’s a bit much. We both just want the festival to be about the baking, you know? "
Chen nods, a flicker of something like sympathy in her eyes. She actually looks convinced. "Of course, Mr. Reynolds. Your confidence will be respected. And thank you for clarifying the… misunderstanding regarding Mr. Beaumont."
"Happy to help." I stand, mission accomplished. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to rest for tomorrow's challenges. Got to bring my A-game to impress my girlfriend." I throw in a wink for good measure.
As I saunter out of the bar, feigning a yawn, I hear them already shifting their conversation to the challenges of achieving a perfect crumb structure in a high-altitude environment. Crisis decisively averted. For Elena, at least. For now.
Back in the quiet of my room, I retrieve my phone. The video of Elena, flushed and beautiful in the moonlight, plays again.
She has no idea what I've just done for her, and what I'll be expecting in return…