Page 58 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

“This is such a nice house,” one of the women said. “Do you live nearby?”

It was cute they thought I actually lived in a house similar to this.

“No, I live on the other side of town,” I said.

“I wish I could bake all day and live in a cute little seaside town,” another said. “Your life must be so easy.”

I forced a smile, biting back the urge to tell her that running a bakery was anything but easy. “It has its moments,” I said lightly, trying to keep the conversation moving.

The comments kept coming, each one hitting like a paper cut—small but sharp.

“I mean, I could never,” the woman said. “I’d get so bored just standing in a kitchen all the time.” She sipped her wine, her perfectly manicured nails glinting under the kitchen light.

“Yeah,” another chimed in, her tone just as sweet but her words just as cutting. “But it’s great you found something you’re good at, right? Not everyone can handle a high-pressure job. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with all that stress.”

I clenched the edge of the counter, my smile plastered on like frosting over a cracked cake. “Yeah,” I said, my voice tight. “No stress baking a thousand pastries before six a.m.”

One of them—Samantha, I think her name was—leaned in closer, her designer perfume overpowering the scent of the baking appetizers. “You know, I bet you could make a killing selling your stuff at farmers’ markets or something. Like, little side hustle stuff. It’s not exactly fine dining, but it’s cute, you know?”

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and frustration. These women had no idea what it took to run a small business, let alone the challenges I faced just to keep my bakery afloat. I had half a mind to grab my mozzarella sticks and go, but I reminded myself they weren’t intentionally being hurtful. They were just naturally bitchy. Might as well ask a fish not to swim.

“Actually, the bakery keeps me plenty busy,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “I don’t really have time for side hustles.”

Samantha just laughed, tossing her perfectly highlighted hair over her shoulder. “Girl, you need to learn to work smarter, not harder. If I had your skills, I’d be cashing in left and right.”

The other women murmured in agreement, nodding along as if I was somehow wasting my potential by not monetizing every aspect of my life.

“I’m happy making good food for good folks,” I said. “It might not be glamorous but it’s mine.”

Thankfully, the ladies moved on to talking about some new restaurant in town. I made myself at home in the kitchen, pulling out serving trays and finding refrigerated dips in the fridge. By the time I got crackers and sliced cheese, the mozzarella sticks were done. My mouth watered with joy.

I looked up and saw Kaisen’s eyes on me. Every time I glanced his way, he was looking at me, his expression unreadable. He’d been quiet while everyone else was yammering. Eliza was talking about the venue and the menu with her friends all chiming in with judgmental comments.

Kaisen tilted his head toward one of the exits off the kitchen. I frowned, questioning him with my eyes. He jerked his head again before he walked out. My frown deepened when I looked at the sizzling cheese sticks. They were too hot to grab but too tempting to leave. I sighed. Kaisen better appreciate the sacrifice I was making.

I excused myself from the group and followed him into the hallway. He pulled me aside, his hand resting lightly on my arm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low. “How have you been?”

“Good,” I said.

“Ignore them,” he said. “They have no clue what you do.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care. I know I’m not like them.”

“Which is a good thing,” he said. “I haven’t heard from you all week. Everything okay?”

I shrugged, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. “I’ve been busy. So have you, from the looks of it. Babysitting Cullen’s friends must be exhausting.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “You had a little icing there.”

“I do not,” I murmured.

“Okay. You’re right. I just wanted to touch you.”

I froze, my breath catching. His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment all I could focus on was him. His mouth. The butterflies in my stomach were back, fluttering wildly as I held his gaze.

“Oh,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.