A Double Dose of Billionaire: Part Four (5 page)

Licking my lips, I asked, “Just a hint? A clue? Anything.”

“Be patient, princess,” a twin quipped. “We’re almost there.”

“How long? This blindfold is starting to get pretty uncomfortable.”

“Less than a minute. I promise.” He gave me a peck on my cheek.

He didn’t lie. In less than a minute, I felt the car slowing down and Tyrone pulling over. Carefully, the twins led me out of the car. I put a hand over my belly, afraid I’d trip. I was told to expect them early, despite only being due a month later. I didn’t want anything to happen to my babies before then—that’s right,
babies
. Apparently, I was having twins. My stomach had swelled up to the size of a giant air bag, and unsightly stretch marks had begun to form on them. It didn’t matter, much, as long as it was for the sake of my kids.

I already had a pair of twins to deal with. Another pair was going to be a huge headache.

We kept their gender a mystery, leaving the surprise for later. I really wanted girls. There was enough testosterone in our family.

“We’re here,” Riley said as he took off my blindfold.

I looked around, confused. They had led me to the middle of a plaza, with a long row of shops. There wasn’t anything special around the area, although the shop we were standing in front of looked really nice. It was a closed bakery, with a blank sign at the top.

I frowned. “Why are we here?”

Ryan gestured to the shop. “So we can present this to you.”

Numbed, and in slight disbelief, I stood in front of the shop, my mouth gaping open. I didn’t think I’d ever own a bakery of my own. I’d given up on that dream long ago, thinking it was unpractical. After marrying the twins and getting pregnant, I figured most of my adult life would be spent taking care of our kids and helping them out at the office. Many women would find that lifestyle comfortable, and even a blessing, but to me, it seemed boring, but something I had to resign my fate to for the sake of family.

And here I was, contrary to what I expected, standing in front of my very own bakery. “Wow.”

Riley wrapped his fingers around mine. “I want to show you the inside. Come with us.”

I padded closely behind him until we reached the front door. It wasn’t anything grand or superfluous. An ordinary, but well-decorated shop. I’d expect them to gift something exorbitant, as they tended to, so I asked, “Why not something at a famous hotel, or the like?” Not that I wanted them to spoil me—I liked the small shop. I could work my way up from it. If my bakery got successful, it’d feel like I worked for it myself. I hated knowing I owed most of everything to Ryan and Riley, although that was the honest truth.

Ryan winked. “Because we know you wouldn’t like it. What fun would it be if everything was handed to you on a plate?”

They were starting to know me too well. I smiled. “No fun at all.” I slid the keys in and turned the knob.

The place had a dusty, just-renovated smell. Pretty soon, I’d fill it up with the scent of flour, butter, and icing. The interior had a quaint, cottage feeling, with wicker chairs and round, glass tables. Portraits of candy and flowers lined the walls. The display counter was still empty. I could think of a million things to fill it up with. It’d be a heck load of work: planning the menu, coming up with marketing schemes, budgeting, hiring staff, etcetera… How in the world was I supposed to do this while taking care of twin babies?

Good things never come easy. I’d work hard, take care of my kids, and run a successful business, using my ambition as fuel. “I love it,” I said, bursting with excitement and happiness. The shock had subsided, leaving joy in its place. “Thank you so fucking much!” I hugged my arms around my twins and kissed both of them. “What would I do without the two of you. Oh, hell, I’ve always wanted something like this. Dreamed about it my whole life.”

Ryan grinned. “We knew you’d like it. Wait till you see the kitchen. It’s all the latest technology.”

They gave me a short tour around the place—it barely took ten minutes. They mentioned buying the largest place in the plaza, but it still wasn’t as big as they wanted it to be. They didn’t know how the equipment worked, saying they left it all to the specialist. I wasn’t surprised. Just a few months back, I learned Ryan and Riley didn’t know how to turn on a stove, perfectly fitting the spoiled-rich-kid image. When I questioned how they cooked for themselves when their helpers weren’t around, they told me they had a special service that sent high-quality, expensive foods to their doorsteps.

We ordered it once, because I wanted to try—the food did taste delicious.

I looked down at my wedding band. The wedding went off perfectly, without a single hitch—unless I counted Kristie getting drunk and puking next to my dress, that is. But I didn’t find it that big of a deal. Married life had been smooth-sailing since. We had our little quibbles, and I found out the twins could be quite disgusting sometimes, which was only human. But other than that, everything turned out great.

I was in the midst of my thoughts when a contraction started at my lower belly. I thought it was another Braxton Hicks contraction—it happened every so often, but then it started to hurt,
a lot.
I cringed and held onto the counter, panic bells ringing in my head. The babies were coming. I looked up at the confused expressions of the twins, panting and gasping for air.

“Are you alright?” Ryan asked. “You don’t look well.”

“Take me to the hospital.”

***

The most excruciating moment of my life had ended.

Most mothers can be relieved after the first baby comes out, but not me. After one, another one came, and I had to go through all those horrible contractions again. I nearly thought labor was going to kill me. It was like a bulldozer pummeling my back. Once my labor ended, I was ready to pass out—until I heard the cries of my children.

“Your boys, ma’am,” a nurse said, holding two bundles to her chest. At first, when I found out they were boys, I was filled with disappointment, and a little bit of dread. But when the nurse passed my darlings over, and I looked at their adorable, small faces and tiny feet and hands, I only experienced fulfillment and pure happiness.

My two boys—the loveliest things in the world.

I’d do everything in my power to care for them, protect them, and make sure they’d forever stay this unmarred and beautiful.

“Look at the both of you,” I whispered. I brought each of them to my face and kissed their cheeks. Both of them stopped crying and looked up at me with their round, sparkling eyes. One of them reached out a miniature hand to touch my jaw. I smiled, tears of joy escaping to my cheeks. Ethan and Nathan—the names of our baby boys. We were hoping for girls, and decided to name them Elizabeth and Isabella, but kept back-up male names just in case.

Riley and Ryan stood by my side. They were fathers now.

“Can we hold them?” Riley asked, looking nervous.

I nodded and passed a boy to each of them. Ryan took Ethan, while Riley carried Nathan. They rocked their little boys in their arms, amazement lighting up their faces. I could tell my husbands had fallen in love with our children in no time at all. Riley fumbled with his baby more than Ryan did, surprisingly.

Ryan rocked Ethan back and forth. “Who am I holding?”

“Ethan,” I answered.

“You can tell them apart?”

I winked. “I have this uncanny ability.”

“They’re amazing,” Riley said, adoration filling his eyes.

“Of course, they’re mine.”

Just then, Nathan burst out into tears. His brother followed soon after, starting with a soft whining sound before becoming as loud as a fire alarm.

Their fathers went into a flurry of panic, rocking the babies and pacing around. Riley was the most frantic of the two. “What are we supposed to do? They won’t keep quiet, Scarlet.”

My motherly instinct kicked in. I spread my arms out.

“Pass them to me,” I said, grinning.

The were going to be good fathers. They acted slightly clueless, but it wasn’t difficult to tell how much they loved their sons.

We were a strange family, but we’d work things out, step by step, taking things one at a time.

“Wendy, what is the stock on our cupcakes?”

Wendy had been my most important shop assistant for the last couple of years. She was absolutely indispensable for the running of my bakery and I’d never have been able to make it this far without her. She had had over ten years of experience in the field, in addition to four years of culinary school. The twins paid her top salary to work for me in the beginning, but recently, things had taken off so well that my business could support her without hurting our balance books.

She tucked some pans into the ovens and set the timer. “More than three hundred, dearies; it’ll last us for most of this morning.”

My cupcakes had been selling like crazy. I’d like to think it was mainly because of how they tasted—the many returning customers were proof of that. But advertising played a huge role as well. I hyped them up often using social media.

I shook my head. “We need more for today.”

“I’m on it,” Wendy said. She already had the next batter done and started pouring it into the cupcake cups.

“And the birthday cakes?” Those were selling well, too. Business was booming, almost too well, and I had another store opening up soon.

“I’ve asked John to start working on them.”

Oh no, John. He was a talented boy, but a bit dull and clumsy. He was working part-time, and wasn’t particularly skilled in the craft. “I’ll have to watch over him.”

“You do that, dear. You know how he gets. I’ll be over in a minute to take over. I’m almost done with the cupcakes.”

I braced myself as I walked up to my employee, certain he’d messed something up. As I retied my hair—it had gotten messy over the day—I paced toward John’s counter. He was working on decorations, using marshmallow fondant. I saw miniature soccer balls on his counter. I remembered that order. The customer wanted something to commemorate her son’s eighteenth birthday, so it was a relatively complicated order. It seemed like a feat for John to handle.

I examined his handiwork. It was shoddy, but acceptable.

Pointing to the fondant he was rolling, I said, “You need more water, your fondant is cracking.”

I didn’t realize I had been stealthy until John whipped his head around, looking as if he just saw a ghost. “Oh, Scarlet, ma’am. Um, hi. I’ll get right on it.”

The boy reached for the jug of water, but his clumsy hands slipped and it tipped over, splashing over the tabletop and all over the fondant.

He looked at his work in horror. “Oh, my God. I’ll get this cleaned up immediately. The batch is ruined, ma’am. Oh shit.” He turned away and wiped his hands. “
What do I do?”

I sighed, knowing something like this was bound to happen. I hadn’t fired him yet because he showed potential. Some of the desserts he created actually tasted pretty good. His family was also struggling and they needed the cash. John just needed to get over his clumsiness. Then, he’d be on the road to becoming a great pastry chef. “Calm down. We’ll just make another batch. This isn’t a rush order. It’s not due till tomorrow.”

He took a big gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”

“C’mon, move over. I might be able to salvage this. It’s a waste to throw failed batches away. We might be able to fix this.”

I scooted next to his side and reached for some icing. Narrowing my eyes, I assessed the damage. It wasn’t too bad, I had to cut out some parts of it, and it was a little sticky, but nothing disastrous.

In the midst  of working with the fondant, Agatha, my nanny, came out of the nursing room, gasping for air. “Mrs. Crawford. Good lord, the twins. They won’t stop fighting. Nathan made Ethan cry and now he won’t stop. And Nathan is messing up the toys and playroom, laughing at his brother. It’s a war zone in there.” I flinched when she called me by that name. It reminded me of the Ryan’s and Riley’s mother. I asked her so many times to call me Scarlet, or ma’am, but she never listened.

Tired, I swiped a hand across my forehead, no doubt leaving a trail of ingredients over it. “I’m coming over shortly. Wendy, are you almost done with your batter? Can you take over with the cake decorations?”

“Give me a minute,” she called back.

I wiped my hands with a rag and threw it back onto the counter. Agatha took care of my children when I was busy working. Ryan and Riley hired her so I could be more focused when running my business. The interior of the bakery had an extra room for their nursery, but it made the rest of the rooms smaller.

My kids weren’t as sweet and tame as I hoped they’d be. Seemingly, they’d gotten the playful gene from their fathers. I still loved them just as much. Some naughtiness in children is good. It makes parenthood livelier, albeit more frustrating.

Bracing myself for what was to come, I entered the nursery.
Always imagine the chaos to be worse than it is.
That way, I would stay more level-headed when handling the situation and not freak out. I envisioned baby food on the walls, and some furniture getting torn. Luckily, my toddlers hadn’t trashed the room to that extent yet.