Chapter 3
Chapter Three
After mingling for longer than I felt was necessary, I excused myself and left to get ready for dinner.
The pre-convention dinner was a spectacle all on its own with delicious food, sultry music, and luxurious treats that lingered in my mind for months.
Everyone wished they could be the ones catering it, but the prize often went to a bakery overseas, some over-hyped place in France that knew how to fluff their egg whites to sinful perfection.
It was mostly jealousy that had me turning my lip at whoever was catering this year.
I’d give anything for Sweet Sensations to be chosen.
I could make my egg tarts up to par in no time.
Mopping my forehead with a napkin, I laid out my outfit and started getting dressed.
Pantyhose, a black dress that was both tasteful and sexy, and a string of pearls around my neck.
I pulled up my hair in a half-hearted bun that looked deliciously messy.
If I couldn’t act a little slutty this weekend, then what was the point?
I snapped my phone into my little black purse chosen specifically for this occasion, fluffed my hair one last time, and left my hotel room.
The elevator ride down to the lobby was long enough to make a bead of sweat roll all the way down my back.
It wasn’t my heat. Maybe the air conditioning was broken?
Or the heat of all these bodies was making it work too hard and someone turned the temperature up to save on electricity.
Either way, I was about to need more napkins to dab my face with by the time I got to the dining hall.
The familiar scent of pheromone incense wafted into my nose as I stepped into the large room.
The smoky incense was mixed with vanilla and sugar, no doubt coming from that delectable spread on the other side of the room.
I could see the icing from here. A large sign hung above it reading, ‘Dessert first, guilt later.’
There would be no guilt tonight. Not about treats, anyway.
I beelined over to the table, only to get stopped by Cassie and her small group of friends.
“You look lovely,” she commented, her eyes dipping to my dress for a quick once-over. “Wish I looked that good in a skirt.”
“Pff,” I countered dismissively. My belly and hips filled out my dress, but that just made me look hotter. “So who’s the caterer this year?”
“Nouveau’s.”
Ugh, them? Their cakes were so good, they made mine seem horrible. My eyes narrowed as I chewed on my lip, hating how much I wanted to fill up an entire plate of their treats.
“Be right back,” I told her, and sidestepped all the way over to the refreshment table.
The scents coming from every single platter made my knees weak.
The delicate tarts. The artfully decorated cupcakes.
Perfectly round cookies. Eclairs you could bounce a quarter off of.
The Pain aux Raisins pastries looked so light and fluffy, they might float away.
I plucked a pink macaron from the table and pinched it between my fingers, feeling a slight sponginess to the cookie.
A single bite made me moan through the soft, chewy center as a burst of sweet laced my tongue. “Motherfuckers.”
“Almost insulting, right?”
I coughed and almost dropped the other half of my macaron.
Jade. Of course. Like honey to flies, she was always nearby.
Not the best analogy when I’m trying to eat.
She was correct, however. It was annoyingly delicious.
“God, I know. They don’t have to show off like this.
We get it, you’re the best, blah blah blah.
” It was impossible to hide my squeal of delight when I finished the cookie.
“Fifth year in a row they’ve catered. They can’t leave any room for the rest of us.”
“Now who does that sound like?” I taunted, giving her a quick grin. Her eyes flitted over to me, and I almost tripped back into the table before righting myself.
“Not everything is a competition.”
“I don’t remember you ever caring about baking, and then you were suddenly all interested a month after I opened my bakery.”
“God, you’re never going to let that go.”
I chose one of the Pain aux Raisins next. It was so soft and moist on the outside, it was almost better than the custard filling. Stupid fucking Nouveau’s and their fucking amazing pastries. “I hate them so much,” I told her, my mouth still full.
“I know. I had a cupcake and it was insulting. Tried all damn year to improve my buttercream, and they breathe on stuff and it’s magically amazing.”
She tried to improve her buttercream? It had been a long time since I ate anything from Blissful Bites. I didn’t need to eat her famous Bear Claws to know everyone buzzed about her, even the people who came to my bakery. Hearing the praise only fueled my dislike for her.
I wiped the back of my sweaty neck and shoved the last bite of pastry into my mouth. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”
Her eyes were on me, narrowing with every second. “Yeah, it is. Go get some water.”
“You’re not my mother.”
She clicked her tongue and her eyes drifted to the rest of the room. “You’re so testy. I’m just trying to be nice.”
It wasn’t just the sweat that made me on edge around her. It was other things. Things I tried hard to forget. Things I had no business lingering on.
“Sorry.”
Wow. She had me apologizing now. Was there anything she couldn’t make me do?
“Hope that new mixer is out,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“The Rousseau? Ugh, I have not been able to stop thinking about that since they teased it last year.”
“Me either. Those sleek lines, and the ease of changing attachments. Drool.”
The expression on her face, appreciation and desire, almost made me wonder if she was staring at someone in the crowd. As I glanced over to see if that was true, it dawned on me: we were having a moment. She was already sinking her claws in me, drawing me closer for the kill.
“I am off to get a drink.” I left no greetings or niceties. I’d already talked with her more than I should’ve.
Wiping my forehead again, I ordered a mixed drink from the bar and mingled around the hall, more for business reasons than pleasure.
You never know who might be a potential investor, or who might be willing to share new ideas.
Two years ago, I was able to buy us new ovens at a steep discount because I made friends with the vendor during the event.
Making my rounds would be worth it if I could snag another deal like that.
If I waited until tomorrow, all the benefits of this pre-convention meet-up might be wasted.
If only I didn’t feel so damn hot.
Amidst handshakes and catching up on life with everyone after we sat down for dinner, I felt as if I’d been standing in front of the bakery ovens. My margarita wasn’t helping, but it did distract me from the sweat dripping down my back, and the unbearable itching all over my skin.
Jade stayed nearby, hovering, as she always did.
As if I wasn’t allowed to talk to people with her in the room.
She might be pretending to chat and trade stories, but I could feel her eyes on me no matter where I went.
After an hour of talking and making light conversation, I left for my hotel room.
A nice, cold shower should help. I hoped that would be true, but as soon as I got into my hotel room, I knew it wouldn’t save me from this.
I was going into heat. The horrible timing was almost worse than figuring out how to handle it.
I had to be at the pre-convention parties tomorrow, heat or no heat.
Preferably no heat. I wouldn’t be allowed in public if security noticed my pheromone levels.
It wasn’t safe to be out like this. An Alpha could find me and…
An Alpha! The phone app! I’d almost forgotten about it, but Alpha Net was made exactly for this, to match me with an Alpha for my heat.
Having sex with a total stranger wasn’t ideal, but I still had the hope of finding a real connection.
And if this one didn’t work, maybe my next heat would be different.
Standing right in front of the air conditioner, I pulled up Alpha Net on my phone, and was pleasantly surprised to see my profile had been approved. My matches were ready. There had to be more than a few female Alphas here this weekend. As long as it wasn’t Julia.
The app beeped cheerfully, and my matches popped up on the screen. Or, match, I should say. One match. Only one Alpha who fit my criteria. It was worse than Julia.
It was fucking Jade Rost.