There are four men and Victoria in the room. They all have coffee and a cupcake in front of them, except Victoria, who states, "I already had one for breakfast."

"Where did you buy them? My daughter would love these for her birthday party," one man asks.

Victoria rises, motioning toward me. "Georgia made them."

The men stand too, and the one who stated he wanted them for his daughter's party steps in front of me. He gives me a once-over, lingering a bit longer than I'd prefer, then holds out his hand. "Ben Eiler. Nice to meet you. Any chance I can get a few dozen of these by Saturday? My ex-wife thinks I can't plan my daughter's party without her help, and I'm on a mission to show her she doesn't know who she's messing with."

"Umm...I...ummm..."

"Georgia's our new intern," Sebastian interjects, stepping so close to me his body heat mingles with mine.

Ben glances at Sebastian, then back at me. "Tell me you aren't too busy to help me out, Georgia? It'll go a long way during our contract negotiations today." He winks in a flirtatious way.

"Are we dealing with cupcakes instead of oil prices?" Sebastian asks in a disapproving tone.

Ben's eyes light up further as he continues to study me. "Well, yes. We sure are. What do you charge for these?"

"I haven't sold them yet," I confess.

"Why not?" he asks.

"I'm saving up for my own bakery someday," I declare.

"Is that so?" Sebastian mumbles.

I cringe inside. Why did I announce that?

"You want a partner? I'll back you," Ben claims.

I gape, then compose myself. "Thank you for your offer, but this is something I need to do on my own."

He chuckles. "Can't argue with that kind of entrepreneurial spirit. But what do you say, Georgia? Can you help me out?"

Something tells me that I'm in a no-win situation. Sebastian moves even closer to me, and I assess his forced smile.

"Well?" Ben asks.

I try to contain my excitement about my first client, confirming, "Sure. I can make that happen."

"Perfect. I'll give you my number so you can get all the details," Ben declares.

"I'm sure your assistant can handle this," Sebastian suggests.

Ben's challenging stare says otherwise. He proclaims, "I think I'll handle this one."

Sebastian's face hardens.

Ben takes another bite of his cupcake and mumbles, "Remind me to take one of these for the road."

"Georgia, have a seat," Sebastian orders, pulling out a chair, his commanding eyes full of irritation.

I obey, trying to contain my giddiness. Sebastian Cartwright is not going to rain on my parade. I have my first client.

Two

SEBASTIAN CARTWRIGHT

Georgia Peach.

What kind of parents name their child Georgia Peach?

Were they on drugs?

Did they hate her upon birth?

A small part of me feels sorry for Georgia. I can imagine how badly the kids teased her while growing up.