His Command: (Billionaire Bound: Part 1) A Dark New Adult Romance (3 page)

Bethany tugged anxiously at the lacy edge of the tight black dress she was wearing, trying it pull it a bit further down over the ample curves of her hips while she and Kylie waited for the car Ciaran had promised to arrive. Of course, Kylie wasn’t anxious at all, happily posing for passersby in her hot pink sequined dress and grinning at the wolf whistles. Beth was just hoping that none of those whistles were for her.

“God, I should have just gone for that other dress,” she complained, tugging at the edge again. “This is way too short—and I feel like my breasts are going to pop right out since this thing doesn’t have straps!”

“Oh, stop fidgeting, Beth! You look fantastic!”

“I look like I’m wearing a mullet,” she retorted, gesturing to the sheer black train the dress sported, attached to a glittery rhinestone belt just below her breasts. As if those didn’t look big enough in this thing.

“I told you, those dresses are so hot right now. And you said you didn’t want anything too short—well, that makes it not too short!” Kylie reasoned, and Beth rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Beth. This is going to be a huge party, with tons of people—and when he gave you over a thousand bucks in one day without batting an eye, everyone’s going to be dressed to the nines. The black slims you down, the lace is super cute, and the train and rhinestones give it just the right amount of flash. You’re going to fit right in.”

Beth had heard this speech six or seven times while they had been getting ready—while she had made the mistake of letting Kylie do her makeup and hair, so that her black curls were glossier than she’d ever seen them and piled high on top of her head. “I will not fit right in and you know it. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb! Everyone there’s going to be bleach-blonde and super skinny, and… well,
you
.”

Kylie made a sour face at her. “Gee, thanks.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know I’m right. I don’t even know why he wants me to go to this thing. I’m just the baker. I’d be more than happy taking whatever ridiculous tip he gives me and leaving.”

“That would be rude. He invited you. You have to stick around for at least an hour when someone invites you.”

“Whose rule is that?”

“Mine. Beth, he completely shot me down, it’s true—that’s because he was checking you out. He wants you there so he can see how you look when you’re not covered in flour, being harassed by teenaged douches,” Kylie answered stubbornly.

Bethany sighed and shook her head. “Look, I wish. But he can have way too many girls who are way better than me. There’s no way he’s checking me out. He was just being polite. You know he still has no idea you’re coming, right?”

“I’ll manage,” she answered, waving at the driver of a car that was pulling up.

The driver, dressed sharply in a suit, stepped out and moved to pop the trunk, although he was looking at the two girls skeptically. “I was told I was just going to have one passenger this evening, a Miss Monroe?”

“I’m Kylie Sutton, I’m just helping her set up,” Kylie stepped in smoothly. “There are so many cupcakes, it would take forever for her to set up all by herself.”

He looked at her for a minute, but seemed to accept this explanation with a shrug and went to grab one of the cakes from inside when the girls told him where they were. Once everything was carefully loaded into the trunk so it wouldn’t slide around and get ruined, Beth and Kylie climbed into the backseat to be driven to wherever the party was.

The bakery, though, was in a fairly good location, because it didn’t take them long to pull up to a massive high-rise apartment building—the kind Beth looked at from a distance and didn’t ever imagine she’d actually get into. She wobbled on her heels a little as the driver told them to head to the service entrance—where a trolley was waiting to help them carry everything—and that the elevator would take them to the penthouse suite, where Mr. Cavanaugh’s party was taking place. Kylie was just about to start squealing for excitement as she hoisted two boxes of cupcakes into her arms and balanced expertly on her high heels on her way to the service entrance.

The trolley was useful, though; three hundred cupcakes would have taken many elevator rides with just what they could carry. They piled everything on and headed up. Beth’s heart was pounding in her ears as the elevator door slid open, and they got an eyeful of the massive apartment waiting for them. The massive apartment that was clearly Ciaran’s. Kylie audibly gasped next to her, grabbing one end of the trolley and pushing it out.

Setup was still underway, but the lack of dim lights and pulsing music was completely made up for by the five different ice sculptures that were set up around the room, each depicting something different—although each seemed to have a naked woman involved somehow. Beth couldn’t look at them for long without blushing. On one side of the room were huge, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered amazing panoramic views of the city outside, where she could see the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay it crossed. A number of either servants or other caterers were setting up other food items, from hors d’oeuvres to cheese platters to what looked like a chocolate fountain, with the chocolate not yet running yet.

Beth took a deep breath and then headed over to where Kylie had wheeled the trolley, starting to take out the cupcakes and carefully put them on the multiple trays designated for her use. She could swear it was Ciaran’s handwriting on the card that marked this area
Bethany’s Brownie Bakery
.

“Would you
look
at this place?” Kylie squealed, although she had the decency to lower her voice so the other people setting up didn’t notice. That didn’t stop her, however, from leaving the trolley to go up to one of the nearest ice sculptures, having taken only two cupcakes out of the first box. Beth rolled her eyes a little bit, even though her heart was still fluttering as she started to put out the cupcakes. “I mean, really, I had heard this guy was rich, but this is
rich.
”

“Kylie, stop gawking before you start to drool. I actually need your help to put out all the cupcakes—my feet are already killing me in these heels and I’ve only been wearing them for like half an hour,” Beth complained, getting her blonde friend’s attention. Kylie pouted but returned to the trolley to continue taking out cupcakes.

“Fine, fine. You know, I don’t see any of the other caterers in getups like ours—that probably means they weren’t invited! I told you he was into you.”

“Or we’re just way overdressed and are going to look like idiots when the guests start arriving,” Beth shot back at her anxiously, tugging at the lace hem of her short dress again when she noticed a guy who was preparing a plate of cheese gawking at them.

Kylie rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Beth. This is the first real party you’ve ever been to, I get that, but can’t you see how awesome this is going to be? Besides, this is not a casual jeans and t-shirt party when there are five ice sculptures and more food than you’d be able to eat in week.” The comment didn’t faze her, even when Beth looked up with disbelief on her face. As if she wasn’t nervous enough about this entire thing, she really needed reminders of her weight right now.

“This isn’t about it being the first real party I’ve been to,” she protested earnestly as she shoved down the snide remark she had thought about making. “This is about me not wanting to be at a party like this. I was never good at parties, especially… short dress and high heel parties. I was comfortable with the jeans and t-shirt parties, thank you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get good at short dress and high heel parties,” Kylie replied, grabbing one of the cake boxes and carefully sliding the dessert out onto one of the platters in their section. “Seriously, you are way too uptight about this. Guys
like
curves on a girl, no matter what the media has to say about it.”

“Then why aren’t you sporting some curves?” The blonde pointedly ignored her, and Beth took a deep, aggravated breath. “And what
guys
? Those jerks from last week, who wouldn’t know good taste if it bit them on the bare ass?”

“Of course not. Real guys. Mature guys. Guys like Ciaran Cavanaugh.”

Bethany shook her head. “Right, I am done with this conversation.” Kylie rolled her eyes and continued to unpack the desserts.

“These cakes are rocking, Beth,” she noted as she glanced toward the one Beth was putting onto a platter. “I mean, seriously, your cakes always look divine, but these look absolutely amazing. They’re going to impress everyone.”

She smiled a little bit, admiring the dark green rectangular cake she was putting out. She’d gotten some inspiration from looking at pictures of Ireland online; Beth had thought he’d appreciate a bit of his heritage. This one was a fondant and icing-flower picture of some gorgeous, verdant green Irish hills she’d found. It was like a misty golden morning, with shrubs and trees, and
Ciaran Cavanaugh
written in gold cursive. She wasn’t actually sure what the big occasion was—something she’d been too stunned at the time to ask him last week—but Beth had figured that his name being on the fancy cakes would be enough in this case. She had, though, stayed away from any typical American stereotypes about Ireland. No leprechauns or pots of gold, just beautiful landscapes she had stayed up until three in the morning making for five nights in a row. In the corner of each, there were tiny silver letters inscribing the name of the bakery. This was a chance for some great exposure, and a lot more customers, so Beth was going to take what she could get.

“Thank you,” she told Kylie. “I worked hard on these. He didn’t really give me a theme to work with or anything, but, I mean… Ireland seems as good a theme as any, right?”

“I don’t know why it wouldn’t be,” she agreed. “Even if he had something else in mind and neglected to tell you, these are like paintings. Edible paintings—almost too pretty to eat. If you can do this to a cake, what can you do to a canvas, Beth?”

“Splatter paint and call it contemporary,” she answered with a laugh. When it came to frosting and cakes, Bethany could make a great many things. But asking her to do any sort of normal art, anyone would think she had stumps for hands. She was fine with that, though. All she had ever wanted to do was bake, ever since she had been a little girl. Easy-Bake Ovens were a wonderful, wonderful invention.

Three hundred cupcakes were spread out over six massive cupcake trays, not dissimilar to the lazy Susan she had modified in her own shop—just far more expensive and impressive looking. Bethany had, as per instructions, done a mixture of chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and red velvet cupcakes, figuring those were safe enough when it was basically just a blind taste test. With how elaborate she had gone with the cakes, they were fairly basic, swirls of frosting on top and covered with sprinkles or edible gold and silver dust. It took the better part of half an hour to finish putting all the cupcakes out, and then Kylie took off to flirt with a cute DJ who had arrived and begun setting up, leaving Beth with all the empty boxes.

Sighing a little bit and shaking her head, she remembered seeing a dumpster down in the alley, and so she wheeled the trolley back to the elevator and took it down. On the way, she pulled off her heels; yes, there might very well be broken glass in the alley, but her feet were already massively killing her. She considered, briefly, that she didn’t know what to do with the trolley once she’d finished throwing things away… Maybe she’d just leave it in the elevator to be taken care of later.

Regardless, Bethany pushed it into the staff hall outside the elevator, and then took the side entrance back out to the alley. It was louder out here than it had been an hour ago—and she realized that that was because of the massive amount of people who had gathered in front of the building, waiting to be let into the party. She tossed the boxes into a dumpster and then bit her lip uncertainly.

After a moment, still holding her shoes in one hand, she crept around to the front to get a look at the partygoers. As Kylie had predicted, they were all dressed in the most glamorous clothes she had ever seen in person—like, what she would see when watching the Golden Globes or something, except… pointedly sluttier. The dresses were not floor-length, but instead in most cases they barely went to midthigh. And in most cases, they had necklines plunging all the way to the girls’ navel.

As Beth had predicted, every single one of them was stick thin. All of their makeup and hair was done perfectly, with teeth blindingly white as they all laughed and shifted pert asses around on six-inch heels. Just looking at them made her feet hurt, and she gulped a little bit, glancing down at her… modest, obviously less-expensive ensemble. God, she should just call a cab and go home; she didn’t belong here at all. But she had said she would come—well, no, she hadn’t said that, but Ciaran expected her to be there. And then there was the reminder of the tip he had promised, and the three hundred and fifty he had given her the week before just for his cousin’s cake. How much would he give her for the massive haul she had made for tonight?

She took a deep breath and turned back around to go inside. She would just stand in a corner all night, where no one could notice her, and… that would be that. As she reached for the door handle, though, a sudden voice caught her attention: “Hey, that girl’s trying to sneak in!”

“Ugh, how rude! I bet she wasn’t even invited.” Snarky comments made by a pair of sticks, and Beth knew she shouldn’t turn around, shouldn’t engage, and yet she couldn’t help peeking over her shoulder to see who they were.