Faking Us, Falling Hard

CHAPTER 1

THREE WEEKS LATER*

CALLISTA POV*

I wiped my hands on my apron for the third time in two minutes, staring at the dessert table I'd just finished setting up.

Rows of miniature lemon tarts. Chocolate ganache cups with gold leaf. Vanilla panna cotta with fresh berries.

“Please let this go well. Please.” I muttered.

"Girl, you need to relax."

I turned to see Marcus, one of the culinary students I'd hired to help with the setup, shaking his head at me. "You've checked that table like five times. It's not gonna spontaneously combust."

"I know, I just…" I adjusted a tart that was already perfectly aligned. "This is a big deal, okay? If I mess this up…."

"You won't mess it up." He cut in. "This is totally amazing. You need to stop fidgeting before you give yourself a panic attack."

I took a breath. He was right. The desserts looked good. Better than good, they looked professional.

“Alright." I straightened my shoulders. "I think we're done here."

He hefted the last supply box. "I'll load this in the van. You good?"

"Yeah. Thanks for your help tonight."

"No problem." He grinned. "Text me when you get home safe, yeah?"

"Will do."

He disappeared through the service exit.

I glanced around again looking for him to appreciate him. Then I spotted him.

Thorian stood a few feet away, talking to an older man. He looked really good. Unfairly good. Navy blue suit that fit him perfectly, hair styled just enough to look effortless.

And then, as if he felt me staring, his eyes flicked toward me.

His expression softened and he muttered something I couldn’t catch to the man beside him which made him nod and walk off.

He approached me and I stepped out from behind the dessert table.

My palms were sweating. Why were my palms sweating?

Relax callista and don’t make this weird.

"Mr. Brooks." I said as I came closer to him.

"Callista." The way he said my name, like he'd been expecting me made something flutter in my chest. "It's good to see you again."

After weeks of emails back and forth, it felt almost too easy standing this close to him again

“You too.”

I gestured awkwardly toward the dessert table. "I, um, hope everything's okay. The desserts, I mean. If anything needs adjusting…."

"It's perfect." His gaze followed my gesture, "You do beautiful work."

“You haven't even tasted…."

"Don't need to." His gaze swept over the table, then back to me. "You do good work."

My face heated. Stop blushing. He's just being polite.

"Thank you. I really appreciate the opportunity. Especially after last time." I winced. "You know. The whole... cake disaster."

"That was memorable." The corner of his mouth twitched. "This is better."

"Well, gravity wasn't involved this time, so..."

He actually smiled at that.

Oh.

That's... that's a good smile.

I cleared my throat, suddenly very aware that I was staring. "Right. Well, I should probably get out of your way. I know you have .…”

“Thorian.” A feminine voice called out and I glanced at a blonde woman in a black dress walking toward us.

"Charlotte." Thorian's tone was polite but distant. Nothing like the way he'd just been talking to me.

She wrapped her hand around his arm and smiled up at him.

Thorian's face didn't change. If anything, he looked more tired.

He gently pulled his arm free and turned to face her.

"Your grandfather is asking for you," she said.

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

"He wants you now." Her gaze cut to me, cold and dismissive. "I'm sure your caterer can manage without you."

I stepped back. "I should go…"

"Wait." Thorian's eyes stayed on me. "Give me a minute."

Charlotte's head whipped toward me and her smile vanished.

Thorian turned to face her. "Charlotte. I need a moment. Tell my grandfather I'm handling something important."

"Important?" Her voice rose slightly. "Thorian, this is ridiculous…"

"Charlotte." His tone was calm. "A moment."

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. She looked between us, lingering on where Thorian stood, still angled toward me instead of her.

Then she turned and walked away.

Thorian watched her go, then looked back at me. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." It's not fine. "Um... I was about to leave anyway. I'm done with the setup, so…"

"Don't go yet."

I blinked. "What?"

"I mean you can stay and…..network. Hand out business cards."

I glanced down at my uniform,"I'm not exactly dressed for networking. And I'm not... I mean, I'm not some renowned chef. Why would anyone here take me seriously?"

"You made those." He nodded toward the dessert table. "That's all the credibility you need."

"Mr Brooks, I look like I just crawled out of a kitchen…"

"You did. And you made something half these people couldn't make if their lives depended on it." His tone left no room for argument. "That matters."

I bit my lip. "I don't know..."

"I'll introduce you."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"I'll introduce you to people. They'll listen." He said, like it was not a big deal. "Hand out your business cards. Tell them you made the desserts. That's it."

He's serious. He's actually offering to...

"You don't have to do that…"

"I know." His gaze held mine. "I want to."

My throat tightened. "Thank you. Really. I really appreciate."

"Don't thank me yet. You still have to survive small talk with rich people."

I felt myself smile. "My favorite."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

A man in a dark suit appeared beside Thorian and leaned close to whisper something in his ear.

Thorian's expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened.

He glanced back at me. "I need to handle something. Stay here. I'll find you in a bit."

"Okay."

He held my gaze for one more second, then walked away with the suited man.

I stood there for a moment, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place I was.

I spotted a small armchair tucked in the corner of the lounge area away from the main crowd but close enough that Thorian could find me when he came back.

I sank into the chair and pulled out my phone, pretending to look busy.

"Is that seat taken?"

I looked up. A man stood beside the empty chair across from me, whiskey glass in hand, a smile on his face.

"Oh…no, go ahead."

He sat down, settling in like we were old acquaintances.

"I know who you are," he said, gesturing with his glass toward the dessert table across the room. "You're the pastry chef. I watched you setting up earlier."

"Yes. That's me."

"I tried one of your lemon tarts." He leaned back. "Exceptional work. Really."

A small rush of pride surged through my nerves. "Thank you. That means a lot."

He extended his hand. "Derek Hartley."

"Callista Green." I shook it briefly.

"Callista." He said my name slowly,

Then he pulled a business card from his jacket pocket and offered it to me. "I host a lot of corporate events. High-end clients. I'd love to work with someone who actually knows what they're doing."

I fumbled in my apron pocket for one of my cards and handed it over, trying not to look too eager. "I'd really appreciate that."

He glanced at the card then back at me.

"Sweet Sensations." He tilted his head.

"Can't say I've heard of it."

"We're... small," I admitted. "Local. But we're growing."

"Clearly." He nodded. "If you're catering Brooks family events, you must be doing something right."

"Mr. Thorian loved one of my works."

Derek's eyebrows lifted slightly. He took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving my face.

"One of your works," he repeated. "So you two know each other. Personally."

It wasn't really a question.

"We've met before," I said carefully. "He gave me a chance when I needed one."

"Hmm." Derek leaned forward. "Thorian Brooks doesn't usually take chances on people. You must have made quite an impression."

The way he said it made my skin prickle.

"It was just business."

"Of course." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Still, I'm always looking for talented vendors. Someone with your skill and your connections could do very well working with me."

"I'd love that," I said, relieved to steer the conversation back to actual business.

"Good." He glanced around the room, then back at me. "It's a bit loud in here, and I have some specific projects in mind. Would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes? We can discuss terms properly."

I hesitated.

It's just networking. This is why you stayed.

"Sure. Just for a few minutes."

The terrace was quieter, cooler with very few people around us.

Derek closed the distance between us faster than I expected.

"So," he said, his voice dropping. "Let me be direct. I can offer you consistent work, high-paying corporate clients, and events every month. Steady income."

My heart jumped. That would solve everything.

“And,” he continued, his eyes fixed on my chest which made my skin crawl. "You will give me the same thing you gave Thorian Brooks."

My stomach dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, Callista." He stepped closer. "A small-time baker doesn't get into a Brooks family event without offering something extra. I'm not judging, I'm saying I can give you a better deal. More money. More security. All you have to do is….you know.” His gaze stripped me bare, whatever he was thinking wasn’t innocent.

"No." I stepped back. "You're wrong. It's not like that…"

"Don't play innocent." His tone hardened. "You think I don't know how this works? You're already playing the game. Why not play it with someone who'll actually pay you what you're worth?"

"I need to go." I turned toward the doors.

His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist hard.

"Let go of me."

"Just hear me out…"

"I said let GO!" I shoved him with my free hand.

He stumbled back a step, his face twisting with rage.

And then…

The slap came so fast I didn't see it. Pain exploded across my cheek and I stumbled backward.

"You ungrateful little bitch." His voice was low, vicious. "You'll f**k your way into a Brooks event but you're too good for me? You're just a w***e with a bakery."

My ears rang. My cheek burned.

Move. Run. Get out of here.

But before I could move…

"How dare you?"

The voice was cold. Deadly.

Thorian grabbed him by his collar and his fist connected with Derek's jaw with a sickening c***k.

Derek hit the ground hard.

Thorian stood over him, breathing hard, his knuckles already starting to bruise. "If I ever see you near her again, I'll destroy you. Do you understand me?"

He let out a laugh. "That's what this is about?" He wiped his mouth, smearing red across his face. "You're f*****g her? While you're engaged to Charlotte?"

I went still.

"That's rich," Derek continued, his voice loud enough that people were starting to notice. "The golden boy Thorian Brooks, screwing the help…"

He hit him again.

This time he went down hard. Didn't get back up.

"Security!" someone shouted.

Two men in suits appeared, grabbing Derek by the arms and hauling him to his feet.

"Get him out of here," He said. "And if I ever see him at another event, I'll finish what I started."

Derek was still laughing as they dragged him away. "She's not worth it, Thorian! She's just some…"

One of the security guards covered his mouth.

He turned to me, and the rage in his eyes immediately softened.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle now.

I nodded, even though I was shaking.

He stepped closer, his hand hovering near my face like he wanted to check the mark but didn't want to touch me without permission. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"No. Just….just my face."

His jaw clenched. "I'm calling the police."

"No….please." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I just want to leave."

He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Come on. I'll take you out the back way."

He pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over it and he brought it to his ears. “Bring an ice pack to the lot.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He pulled off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders, then gently guided me toward a side exit.