I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

38

Beck

As much as I wanted Tess to be presentable at the party, a part of me also wanted her to lose. I had a whole list of things I wanted to spend the night doing with her.

After showering and changing into a tux, I headed into the living room, bracing myself for whatever fright fest the girls had concocted.

When I had lived in the compound, my sister Livy and our mothers would sew our clothes out of bedsheets my father would bring back from thrift stores. They had never fit right, and we always looked like street urchins from the Middle Ages. The pants never had any pockets, for goodness’ sake, and they wouldn’t stay up when we ran.

As soon as I had earned enough money from my company, the first thing I had done was have a whole set of suits custom-tailored.

Maybe if the dress is too much of a horror show, we can quickly stop and buy one, I decided, marking on my phone where we could purchase a cocktail dress nearby.

“Are you ready to go?” Tess called from the living room.

I braced myself and walked down the hall.

But instead of some sort of sack dress, there was Tess, standing in the middle of the room, a vision in lace. The dress was almost Greek in style, with a gathered scoop neck and a wide belt at the waist. The rest of the sheer fabric fell to the floor. It had a slit along one side that exposed her leg as she walked around the room, modeling the dress.

A layer of sheer, gauzy fabric kept the dress from revealing too much through the gaps in the lace. Long sleeves ending in points that almost reached the floor fluttered around her as she walked. A crown of flowers on her messy bun completed the look.

I was flabbergasted at the dress. I wanted to fuck her in that dress.

Annie handed Tess her clutch purse.

“This dress looks amazing! Admit it!” she crowed. “I’m going to get tons of compliments.”

That I didn’t doubt.

When the limo dropped us off in front of the hotel where the charity ball was being held, several photographers snapped our pictures. I wrapped a hand protectively around Tess’s waist.

None of the other women were wearing dresses like hers. They all wore darker, more conservative dresses. Heads were turning when we walked in.

Maybe I should have made her change.

“Oh my god!” one well-dressed woman squealed, running up to Tess. “I love your dress! Where did you find it?”

“It was custom,” Tess demurred.

“Who’s the designer?”

“It was invite-only,” Tess said. “Sorry! She doesn’t want to be flooded with business.”

That wasn’t the only woman who asked about her dress as we made our rounds around the ballroom, not to mention the numerous guys who were staring at her.

Tess seemed oblivious as she waved at Ethel.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Ethel said, giving each of us air kisses. “Isn’t this such a wonderful party! We’ve raised quite a lot of money to help trafficking victims.”

“A worthy cause.”

“Mark!” Ethel exclaimed, giving him air kisses. “And Finn Richmond. Do you know—”

“Beck Svensson? Yes,” he said. “We’ve met.”

“Finn especially has been such a huge help in the nonprofit to save trafficking victims,” Ethel said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Both of us have personal connections to the cause.”

The tall, dark-haired man patted her shoulder in sympathy.

“And thank you for your generous donation, Mark and Brea,” Ethel added.

“Oh my god!” the short young woman exclaimed, jumping up and down beside Mark. “I freaking love your dress! Where did you find that? You have to tell me!”

“Brea,” Mark began, but the young woman had already grabbed Tess and was spinning her around.

“My girlfriend is a seamstress,” Mark explained. He looked at me. “You know, we still don’t have a contractor on board for the cyber security work.”

Owen had been emphatic that we needed to try again. But ever since Mark’s uncle had stolen Greg and Hunter’s company out from under them, Greg had declared out-and-out war against the Holbrooks. I couldn’t say I cared much for them either. I loathed begging a Holbrook for anything. But I also had to keep the best interests of my company in mind. I gritted my teeth.

“I understand we didn’t put our best foot forward that day. We had a bit going on unfortunately and were off our game.”

But instead of laying into me, Mark seemed concerned. “I had no idea your sisters had turned up that day,” he said. “We could have rescheduled.”

“Water under the bridge.”

Finn clapped me on the shoulder. “Man, it’s terrible what happened to your sisters. You must have been so relieved to have them back.” He shook his head. “Trust me, I know how terrible it is to be trapped like that, especially as a child.”

“Of course,” I said. As much as I hated my childhood, it hadn’t been anything as horrific as Finn’s and his brothers’.

“Send over your prospectus,” Mark told me.

I tried not to scowl.

“It’s not charity,” Finn said. “Seriously. Quantum Cyber has been doing some interesting things with blockchain security systems. We had been hoping you would move to the next round. It’s just business.”

“Speaking of,” Mark said, “I see Ms. Frost. I did want to talk to her about a development.” He smirked at me. “And you can tell Greg I said that.”

“As if,” I muttered. “I don’t want to lose an eye.”

I looked around for Tess after Mark left. Brea had flitted off to talk to someone else, and Tess was nowhere to be found. I walked through the crowd of high-society people, greeting the ones I knew.

I found her at the auction station, flanked by two men with green eyes and brown hair who looked similar to Finn. They were Richmond brothers, and they seemed very interested in her dress.

“You can’t tell me the designer?” one of them was saying. Tess looked between him and his brother in bemusement.

“It’s a secret. I told you.”

“What if we traded secrets for secrets?” he offered, leaning over her.

“What kind of secret do you have?”

“Well,” he drawled, “my secret is that I think you are the hottest woman at this party.”

“My brother’s an idiot,” the other Richmond butted in. “It’s not a secret that you’re the hottest woman at the party. That’s not a fair trade. How about this? You tell me who the designer is, and I’ll put your name on my yacht?”

“Oh, a yacht?” Tess raised an eyebrow.

“Yep! Brand-new! We could sail it to the Bahamas if you want. We can leave tonight.”

“Don’t go with him,” his brother interrupted. “He’s terrible once you get to know him. Come with me.” He took her arm. “They’re playing our song. I’ll show you a good time. We can go to one of the clubs I own after this.”

“Excuse me,” I said sharply.

“Back off, man,” one of the brothers said. “I saw her first.”

My lip curled back. “She’s my girlfriend, so I saw her first, and I don’t want you anywhere near her. She is not dancing with you, she’s not sailing on your yacht, and she’s not going to your club. She’s coming home with me tonight.”

The other Richmond led his scowling brother away but not before he said to Tess, “If you get tired of blonds, call me.”

I shook my head.

Tess wrapped her arm around my waist. “You’re puffed up like an angry cat!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are!” she teased. She trailed her fingers to my bow tie then up to my jaw. “They were just complimenting me on my dress. They’re harmless.”

“They’re not.” I glowered in the Richmond brothers’ direction.

“You’re just salty because they like my dress,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “Everyone likes my dress except for you.”

I looked down at her. “Is that what you think?”

Tess gazed up at me with wide eyes. “I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me in this dress?”

“No, you have it all wrong. I want to fuck you in that dress.”