Chapter 7

BIANCA LEWIS

The wind chimes made a soft sound, indicating someone had entered my pastry shop. I quickly stepped out of the kitchen, ready to greet my customer. However my words got caught in my throat when I saw who it was.

“Oh, hi,” Travis Moore greeted me casually.

He barely spared me a glance before shifting his attention to the cake display.

“Hello. Are you here to buy a cake?”

“Yes, for my niece.”

Liar. The whole country knew he didn’t have any siblings, so how could he possibly have a niece?

I knew exactly what he was doing—this was just an excuse to get close to me. But I wasn’t complaining. Fate seemed to be working in my favor without me doing anything. I had thought it would be difficult to attract Travis Moore, but it turned out everything was falling into place much easier than I had expected.

“What does she like?” I asked.

“Strawberry.”

“I’m sorry but we’re out of strawberry cake."

“How about red velvet?”

“Also sold out.”

He ran a hand over his nape, “Alright, just pack up everything you have left.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he said nonchalantly before sitting down at one of the tables set up for customers who wanted coffee and smoothies. “And a coffee, please.”

“Okay.”

I headed back to the kitchen and started making his coffee. I rarely did this myself, but I wanted to impress him, so I carefully crafted a latte art design—a delicate leaf pattern.

If it weren’t for the hatred in my heart, I would’ve been over the moon knowing that Travis Moore was sitting inside my pastry shop.

Back in college, there was one particular encounter that made me fall for him. But I must have been too insignificant for him to remember that moment. Even without my masquerade mask, there was no recognition in his eyes.

He didn’t remember that I was the college girl who had once knelt before him and his father, begging for mercy.

My mother had died in the most painful way, and that past left a deep scar in my heart. Any admiration I once had for him was long gone, replaced by a burning hatred.

Forcing a smile, I walked back to him with the tray. I made sure my expression remained pleasant.

"Here's your coffee, sir," I said, placing the cup on the table.

"Sir?" he repeated.

“Yes, I call all my customers ‘sir.’”

“Am I just a customer to you?” he asked, clearly taken aback.

“Aren't you?” I asked innocently.

He was stunned with what I said. Probably, he realized that last night was our first formal meeting and that I had not shown any interest in him. There was no reason for him to assume he was special. Billionaire or not, he was nothing to me.

This would be a good lesson for him. Not every woman could be easily swayed by his charm.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been embarrassed like this,” he muttered under his breath.

A smirk formed my lips secretly as I heard him clearly.

“I’ll pack up your cakes now," I said, walking away from him.

In the counter, I crouched down to grab a box from under. But there were none left.

With no other choice, I pulled a chair closer and climbed onto it to reach the extra boxes stored in the cabinet.

“Whoa! What are you doing?!” Travis suddenly panicked and rushed toward me. “What if you fall, lady?!

“Huh? It’s not like I’m doing parkour. Besides, I do this every day,” I said.

“I’ll do it.”

“No. You’re the customer. Go back to your table.”

“Alright, but let me hold you.”

"There's no need for that."

When I tried to grab the boxes, my shirt stretched up, revealing my stomach. And I didn't expect him to hold me around my waist to keep me from falling.

As our skin touched a jolt of electricity shot through me. I knew he felt it too because he suddenly stiffened.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. We were drawn into a moment—one that felt strangely intimate.

Intimate? No, I shouldn't think of it! I couldn’t let myself forget about my mission. The man holding me now had a huge debt to pay!

Snapping myself out of it, I grabbed the boxes quickly and climbed down.

“Go back to your table. I’ll pack your cakes now,” I said firmly.

Travis didn't leave right away. He was stunned, as if he were under some sort of spell. I even had to snap my fingers in front of his face to bring him back to reality.

“I’m s-sorry. What were we talking about again?” He shook his head, looking flustered.

“I told you to go back to your table.”

“Right. Okay."

As he returned to his table, he made me uncomfortable by staring at me the entire time.

'No, Bianca. You have to be in control. He should be the one affected, not you!' I scolded myself.

I tried my best to stay focused with what I was doing.

After I finished, I called him out and handed him the bill.

“Here,” he said, giving me a wad of cash. “Keep the change.”

“No. This is too much,” I said, my eyes widening when I counted the money.

His total bill was only $168, but he had handed me ten $100 bills.

“Keep it.”

“No.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“I’m just being fair.”

He sighed. “Fine. Think of it as an advance payment because I’ll be coming back tomorrow to buy more cakes.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean by why?” he asked back.

“There are plenty of famous and high-end pastry shops out there. Why choose mine?”

He didn’t answer right away. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made him look like a kid caught doing something mischievous.

I never expected the powerful Travis Moore to have such an awkward side.

“Is there anything wrong with buying from your shop?” he finally said.

“Really? My shop, which is in the middle of a squatter area?”

“I think that’s none of your business,” he replied, grabbing the boxes of cakes.

But he quickly realized he couldn’t carry them all. He turned to me with a frown.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” I said, grabbing some of the boxes from him and following him to his car.

“Expect me tomorrow,” he announced after we loaded everything inside his car trunk.

“Okay,” I replied, watching as he got into his car and drove away.