16. Dorian
Chapter sixteen
Dorian
I watch from a distance as Elena and James whisk themselves away in one of my cars, practically hand in hand.
I'm still impressed by what they created today. Their cookie chests were whimsical, and you could see the heart in every detail.
I hadn't anticipated them making such a great team, however. The way they moved around each other in that cramped station, the unspoken communication... it was impressive. And now, watching them leave together for their well-deserved spa evening, that synergy takes on an entirely different meaning.
"They do make a pretty handsome couple, don't they?" Lisa Chen appears beside me, her gaze following the departing car.
I maintain a carefully neutral expression, a skill honed over years of boardroom negotiations and society galas. "Who might that be, Lisa?"
"James Reynolds and Elena Avery, of course," she says, a knowing little smile playing on her lips. "They met at a regional baking conference last spring. Started dating shortly after."
"Is that so?" I take a measured sip of the lukewarm coffee I'm nursing, using the mundane action to mask a flicker of surprise. "I wasn't aware."
"We learned about it yesterday," Lisa continues, oblivious to my internal monologue.
"William was initially a bit concerned, but I reminded him there's nothing in the festival charter prohibiting romantic relationships between contestants.
As long as it doesn't compromise the competition's integrity.
" She smiles. "And honestly, they're both incredibly talented.
They've earned their spots here, relationship or not. "
"Indeed." The single word feels woefully inadequate.
Lisa excuses herself, leaving me alone with my increasingly unruly thoughts. Elena and James. A couple. What is she talking about? That can't be true, so it shouldn't register as anything more than fake news. It certainly shouldn't affect me.
And yet.
I've maintained scrupulous professionalism around Elena since our encounter in the woods.
Limited our interactions to polite nods and formal exchanges, despite the vivid memory of how her body responded to mine: powerful, intense.
The kind I never thought I'd ever experience… let alone with a beta .
But then, that's been Elena's effect since our first meeting. Unexpected, genuine, refreshing in ways my life rarely allows.
That first night at The Tipsy Whisk, and again last night during those stolen moments, I felt like simply Dorian.
Not Dorian Beaumont, CEO of Beaumont Patisserie, multi-billionaire scion of a baking dynasty.
Just a man utterly captivated by a fascinating woman who looked at me without the distorting lens of my family name, my fortune, my position.
I check my watch. Nearly six. The judges' dinner looms in an hour. Another obligation, another stark reminder of the chasm between my world and Elena's.
Elena and James, though... they make sense. Two ambitious, talented bakers navigating the same competitive landscape, sharing identical dreams, understanding identical sacrifices.
My world consists of boardrooms and quarterly reports, shareholder expectations and global supply chains. An empire that began humbly with my grandfather and now employs thousands while generating billions. It's a legacy I feel responsible to protect and expand.
Ironically, I realize with wry amusement, part of that responsibility apparently includes sponsoring the woman I can't stop thinking about as she enjoys an evening of relaxation with another alpha. Without me.
They'll undoubtedly fondle each other in those hot springs. The universe, it seems, has a penchant for irony. And I, apparently, have a penchant for sponsoring my own romantic frustrations. I want to fondle too . Maybe I should invite myself…
"Mr. Beaumont?"
Chef Parker approaches, leather portfolio in hand. The slight deference in his voice yanks me back to reality.
"William," I respond, straightening automatically as the familiar mantle of CEO settles across my shoulders. "Are the final scores for the first two days tallied and confirmed?"
"They sure are. Just finished." He flips open the portfolio, revealing neat columns of meticulously recorded numbers. "As you can see, Elena Avery and James Reynolds are way ahead of everyone else."
"They earned it." My voice remains even, stripped of any emotion I might be feeling. "They have exceptional talent."
"I completely agree." He clears his throat, a precursor to a shift in topic. "There was one other matter I wanted to discuss. The Beaumont Foundation's official donation to the children's hospital…"
Just like that, we're thrust back into serious business. My name, my company, my endless responsibilities. This is my world. This is who I am.
And none of it belongs with what happened under that oak tree. With a baker whose scent I still can’t get out of my head. A woman who makes me forget the crushing weight of expectations I’ve shouldered since birth.
Funny thing, though. When she passed the judges’ table earlier today, I could’ve sworn her scent was much fainter than it was last night. Which is… odd, now that I think about it.
"...would that work with your schedule, Mr. Beaumont?"
I blink. "My apologies, William. Could you repeat that?"
"The press call at the children's hospital tomorrow, Mr. Beaumont. The committee felt your presence, as the festival's primary sponsor, would really elevate the event's profile."
"Of course." My reply comes automatically. "My schedule remains at the festival's disposal for the next few days."
He nods with visible relief, continuing to outline logistical details. I listen with half my attention, the other half still tuned to Elena.
I cannot allow what happened between us to evolve beyond what it was; a moment. A beautiful yet reckless moment of connection. I cannot weave it into the complex, demanding tapestry of my actual life. It's fantasy, a pleasant interlude, nothing more.
I have responsibilities extending far beyond this charming small town. I cannot afford emotional indulgences that might compromise my judgment or obligations.
Besides, my world would likely tarnish the very qualities I find so alluring in Elena. Everything carries a price. The cost of bringing her into my orbit might well be the dimming of her unique, vibrant light. I wouldn't do that to her. I couldn't .
Better to remain grounded in reality. I'm in Lakeview for a few more days. I will continue judging fairly. I will fulfill my professional obligations with expected diligence. Then I'll return to my life and she'll continue with hers. Maybe eventually with someone else… like James.