Michael snorted out a laugh. “If he’s what you’re gonna look like in thirty years, you’re golden.”
I threw my head back and laughed, still holding him close. “You come from a family of supermodels, so you can shut up.”
He pulled back and slapped my arse. “I’ve spent all day cleaning for you, so you can buy me food before I go home. I do have stuff I need to do this afternoon.”
“Yes, boss.”
Chapter Thirteen
Michael
I kinda floated through the week on a cloud. Work was good and busy; I got a lot done. Things with Natalie were back to normal. She even asked me how things with Bryce were going. “You don’t even need to answer,” she’d replied with a roll of her eyes. “God, the hearts in your eyes say it all.”
“I don’t have . . .” I couldn’t even finish that because I was smiling too hard. I couldn’t deny it anyway. After all, she’d wanted me to not lie to her. “Things with him are great.”
“I can tell,” she’d said, and our conversation quickly moved onto work.
Bryce was busy from early till late but he did come over on Wednesday night. We ate dinner and he told me all about his day, about his staff training, how the sunlight gave a whole new feel to the shop now the windows were uncovered, and how the website was already getting great traffic numbers. He had the uniforms now, and it was all starting to feel very real.
His excitement was contagious.
On Thursday after work, I called past the store knowing he’d be there getting everything in order. He grinned when he saw me, locking the door behind us, and pulled me into the shop. He led me by the hand to a woman behind the counter. “Hey, Tarini, this is Michael. Michael, this is Tarini.”
She was the manager he’d hired, excitedly telling me he had the perfect person because she born in Singapore, lived in Malaysia until she was eight, and spoke the better part of three languages.
“Hi,” she said, her smile wide and warm. Bryce had obviously told her about me. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Same,” I replied, shaking her hand. “Getting ready for the big opening tomorrow?”
“Yes!” she said. “But I think we’re almost done. Just doing one last run-through.”
Bryce was grinning. “I think we’re good.”
“What time’s opening?” I asked.
“Seven,” he said, making a face. “Nerves are starting to kick in.”
I rubbed his back. “You got this. You’re so ready for it to be open.”
He gave a nod. “Media team will be here at opening, so I have to be ready.”
“Is your dad back yet?” I knew he was away somewhere—he was always somewhere else—and I knew how much it meant to Bry that he’d be here.
“Flies back in around ten in the morning,” he replied. “Should be here around lunchtime.”
“Good.”
Bry took a deep breath and let it out slow. “You’re right. I can’t wait to begin.”
They finished up and I made Bry pose for some pre-opening photos. Just corny ones standing behind the counter and one underneath his sign, and a few candid shots showing his heart-stopping smile and devastating good looks.
He really was so handsome when he thought no one was looking.
Tarini bid us goodnight, giving him a smirk at the door. “Try and get some sleep. See you bright and early.”
I sat on one of the tables while Bry locked the door behind her. He smiled when he turned to face me, walking back to fit between my legs. “I know what will make you sleep,” I said, pulling his shirt to bring him in for a kiss.
“Oh yeah? And what is that?”
“A big feed of carbs followed by sex. You’ll sleep like the dead.”
He laughed. “You know me so well.” He pulled me by my knees so our fronts touched and he had to lean down to kiss me. “Let’s get out of here.” He pulled me off the table, my legs around his waist, and held me there for a second before letting me slowly slide down until my feet hit the floor.
As soon as he had his store locked up, he was quick to grab my hand as we walked to my apartment. “Oh, I took tomorrow off work,” I said.
He shot me a startled look. “You did? Why?”
“For you. In case you need me. Tomorrow’s a big day for you.”
He dropped my hand so he could put his arm around my shoulder and he tucked me into his side as we walked. He kissed the side of my head. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“If you’re flat out busy and need someone to run an errand or go pick something up or to do anything, I’ll be there. You can put me to work.”
“I plan on putting you to work after dinner,” he murmured. “I believe that was the plan, yeah?”
“Hell yes, it was. Pasta first, dessert after. And because you’ve been working so hard lately, I’ll accept one orgasm tonight.”
He laughed and tightened his arm around my shoulder. “Very gracious of you.”
“I think so.”
He laughed, that warm, throaty sex sound that trickled down my spine with promises of what was to come.
When I said I’d help all day, it wasn’t an exaggeration. We got there just after six thirty, and Bry made himself busy the second he walked in. Tarini pretty much followed us in, then other staff, including a man who, at first, I thought might have been someone’s grandpa who’d wandered off from home, but as it turned out, Ken was a kopi master. Born and raised in Singapore for the first fifty years of his life, apparently he and Bry knew each other, speaking in a language I couldn’t understand. But they laughed and smiled, side by side, as Ken got busy roasting kopi in huge woks.
The smell was heavenly.
Instead of disrupting them, I went up the wharf and found a place that made a range of toasted sandwiches. I bought a bunch for everyone and took them back. They were grateful and excited, and we snuck in a fresh kopi each before Bryce did the very grand gesture of opening the front doors for the first time.
Whatever marketing Bryce had done had worked because people started filing in, and they didn’t seem to stop.
Line after line, drinks, meals, toast and hard-boiled eggs, takeaways, teas, and sweets. It was a fun atmosphere, staff and customers were excited, and seeing Bryce in his element was a sight to behold.
Then the media team turned up, and there were no two ways about it: Bryce Schroeder was his father’s son. Sharp and charming, he spoke about his mission to provide a sustainable product and about awareness all while promoting his store with a killer smile.
The fame of his surname never came up. He was never asked if this was a stream in his father’s enterprise, he was never asked about connections. Maybe that was very deliberate on his behalf, because he wanted to do this on his own.
And he had.
I was so incredibly proud of him.
I’d forgotten all about his father turning up. Well, I’d lost track of time was probably more apt, but either way, I was surprised when I saw him walk in.
He seemed surprised. If that was because of how busy the store was or if he was surprised by how amazing his son was—how happy he was—I had no clue. Maybe he was surprised by it all. But there was a sting of something else in his eyes too. Was it disappointment?