My Boss Made Me Sext Her Billionaire Fiancé Chapter 05
Fifty Bucks, Years Ago
Next day, I’m back at the bakery. Grandma’s surgery still costs a fortune. Fifty grand from Nina barely dents it.
Lunch rush is winding down when the bell over the door jingles.
It’s him. Hunter Cole.
He picks out a couple of cupcakes and slides them across the counter.
“Twenty-seven bucks,” I say flat.
He hands me the card. But when I reach for it, his hand clamps down on mine.
“Pretty face like yours, working retail? Come on. Ditch this place. Come home with me.”
My heart slams.
“Let go. There are cameras. I’ll call the cops.”
His grip tightens.
“Don’t be like that. I just wanna be friends. Whatever Nina’s paying you, I’ll double it.”
I smile at him. Real sweet.
He blinks.
I grab the pen off the counter and stab it straight into the back of his hand.
He howls. I bolt for the back kitchen.
“BITCH!” he screams. Footsteps pound behind me. I feel his hand grab for my collar—
Then a thud. A grunt. A crash.
I whip around.
Hunter’s flat on the floor. Groaning. Bleeding.
Xander is standing over him.
He doesn’t even look winded. Just adjusts his cuff and kicks Hunter one more time, casual, like he’s flicking dust off his shoe.
Hunter scrambles up and runs.
The bakery goes dead quiet.
Xander doesn’t look at me. His voice comes out lazy.
“Don’t read into it. Nina likes her little assistant. Wouldn’t want her getting upset.”
I step back. Put distance between us.
“Right. Thanks for the help.”
My relief shift walks in right on cue. I clock out fast. All I want is to get away from him.
But Xander follows me out.
“I’m heading to Nina’s. Give you a ride.”
No thanks is on my tongue. But he’s already flagging his car.
Here’s the thing about Xander Shaw.
I met him before. Years ago.
Freshman year of high school. My parents got divorced and neither of them wanted me. They literally left me on a sidewalk with a trash bag of clothes.
I sat on the curb. Not crying. Just thinking. Tomorrow I owe the school fifty bucks for textbooks.
Where the hell do I get fifty bucks?
I walked the whole strip mall. Every diner, every shop. “You hiring? Anything, please.”
They took one look at my age and shooed me off. No child labor.
Last place, the owner slammed the door in my face.
“I said we don’t hire kids. Beat it before you scare off my customers.”
Then a voice behind me.
“How much do you need?”
He was young too. Maybe seventeen. But he wore money like a second skin. Cashmere coat. Expensive watch.
I sniffled. “Fifty.”
He was in a hurry. Pulled a hundred from his wallet, shoved it at me, started walking.
“Wait!” I said. I ran to a 7-Eleven, broke it, ran back, and pressed one of the fifties into his hand.
He looked amused. Started to walk off.
I grabbed his sleeve. “What’s your name? I’ll pay you back.”
He paused. Two words:
“Xander Shaw.”
Then he was gone.
I never knew how to spell it. Never saw him again.
Until three months ago, when Nina sent me his photo.
And now here we are, standing outside my bakery, and he doesn’t recognize me at all.
While we wait for his car, he pulls out his phone and types something.
My burner buzzes in my pocket.
“Baby? Where’d you go? Why aren’t you answering?”
I panic-slam the volume button.
Xander frowns at his phone. Waits. Then, without warning, hits call.
My phone rings.
Out loud. Right next to him.
—