Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
He smiled. “Just the girl I need.”
I shook my head. “Mike, I—”
He laughed. “No, I don’t need you to work, but I have a favor.”
“What is it?” I asked, relieved.
“We got a last-minute order for two large cakes. I have no one to deliver them. I’ll cover a taxi if you take them and drop them off.”
“Where are they going?”
“The company is called BAM. They’ve ordered before. They’re in the same building as the ABC Corp that has ordered a lot of your cakes. They’re a few blocks away.”
“I can walk them over.”
He shook his head. “They ordered the big ones. Two are heavy. You can take a cab, and I’ll pay your way home too. They were happy to pay the extra fees.”
I laughed, the mystery of how another company had heard of the cakes explained. They must somehow be connected or a staff member had mentioned the cakes.
“I can do that. But no need for a cab home. I’m heading to the library. I’ll take a sandwich in exchange. I’m starving.”
“Great. I’ll box them up, and you eat.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
I slipped from the cab and carefully took out the large box, grateful for the wooden board in the bottom supporting the cakes. I glanced up at the structure, taking in the well-kept appearance of the building. I paused on the steps, admiring the landscaped garden starting to bloom and manicured bushes. It was nice to see in downtown Toronto. The building spoke of wealth and an understated elegance. Different from many in the area that were plain concrete edifices.
Inside, I was given directions to BAM, and I rode the elevator to the top floor. I stepped out into a welcoming area, hearing the hushed sounds of voices down the halls. I made my way to the reception desk, and the woman there looked up with a smile.
“Oh, the cakes!” she gushed. “That is wonderful.”
“Would you like me to take them somewhere?”
Her phone rang, and she grimaced. “Would you mind setting them on the boardroom table?” She indicated the glassed-in room across the hall.
“No problem.”
I carried in the box and slid it on the table, where a pile of plates and forks was already set up. I looked around curiously. I had no idea what BAM stood for, but there were pictures on the walls of various buildings. Large houses. An aerial view of a community of homes set by the water. I cocked my head to the side as I peered at that one. It looked familiar, but why, I wasn’t sure. The boardroom held a huge wooden table, the rich oak gleaming in the light. I counted twenty chairs around the slab of wood, all upholstered and comfortable-looking. There was a large-screen TV on one end and in the corner a door that I assumed led to a private office. As I turned to leave, I spied a neat kitchen tucked to one side. It all spoke of the same understated elegance as the outside, and I wondered if BAM was an upscale real estate firm. I would have to look it up when I got home.
A tall, silver-haired man walked in and eyed me speculatively. “Hello?” he said.
I indicated the table. “Hello. I was delivering the cakes.”
A smile broke out on his face. “Ah. Great.”
“Nice, um, room,” I sputtered.
He chuckled. “We like it.”
“Okay, well, enjoy.”
“You work for the diner?”
“Um, yes. I, ah, I bake the cakes,” I offered.
“Really?” he asked, sounding delighted. “They’ve become a favorite here. Aiden had a piece downstairs and raved, so we ordered a couple.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Bent, this lovely young lady is the baker of our new favorite treat.”
I turned and met the intense blue gaze of “Bent.” He was tall, with broad shoulders and a severe, unsmiling expression. Both men were in their early sixties, I assumed, and wore suits I was certain cost more than what I paid for a year in rent. Bent’s face changed as he smiled.
“Well hello, cake lady. I think we need to put you on retainer.”
I laughed and edged toward the door. “Glad you enjoy them.”
“We do.” He smiled. “Thank you for bringing them.”
“You’re welcome.”
The silver-haired man opened the door, and I stepped into the hall, waving to the woman who was still on the phone. I peeked at a few of the other pictures on the walls. I pushed the button for the elevator and waited for it. Another picture caught my attention, and I moved over to look at it as I waited. The elevator opened, drawing my attention as a group of men, all laughing and talking, filed out. I startled as I looked at the first man, his face familiar. He was an older version of Ronan. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and dress pants, a silk tie loose around his throat. He was tall and well built. Two younger men followed, dressed in high-priced suits, their green eyes verdant, their dark hair and build eerily similar. The fourth man in the group was bigger—his shoulders wider, stockier—and slightly dangerous-looking, although he was laughing. He was dressed more casually, but his leather coat appeared expensive.