The Florist and the Pastry Chef

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Sebastian

Leaving Paisley is one of the hardest things I've done. If Rhys DeGrande hadn't pointed a glare as sharp as a knife in my direction, I would've continued talking. He looked like he was ready to beat the shit out of me.

Whatever.

What the hell was I expecting, anyway? Aside from Paisley, the DeGrande family has never liked me.

It's all I can think about while I whisk egg whites and granulated white sugar. Normally, I'd throw them in the stand mixer and tell them to have fun for the next eight minutes. But my frustration needs to be expelled. The ache of my arm muscles will benefit me, too.

"Christ, Sebastian," Margaux says. "What did those egg whites do to you?"

"Pissed me off," I mutter, ignoring my sister's questioning gaze. "Do you want to start on the fillings for the macarons? We're making double chocolate and pistachio. Start with the pistachio. Cocoa powder will make a mess of everything."

I hate being bossy. The King family believes working as a team in the kitchen is mandatory. My tone isn't pleasant, either.

I set the bowl down, turning to my sister. Her black hair is tied back in a long braid. Her arms are crossed and her long, dark purple nails are tapping against her arms. Pressing her lips into a flat line, Margaux clears her throat. She doesn't look impressed.

"Sorry," I say, feeling sheepish. "That was uncalled for."

"It was." She nods. "What's wrong with you?"

Sighing, I lean against the stainless steel counter and rub my face with the heel of my hand. Margaux despises the conflict between our families. From the beginning, she's said if Mom and Paisley's parents could push past their drama and work together, we'd be rich. Who doesn't love a cake decorated with beautiful flowers? Or deals on graduation bundles that include cupcakes and a gorgeous bouquet? There are many ways our families could benefit from each other. Instead, Mom and Paisley's parents continue to feed us lies. They try to pit us against each other.

We play along. We fake disliking each other while still respecting each other. It's getting tiresome. I want to drop the façade.

"While I was talking to Paisley, Rhys was plotting my murder. Nothing new."

Margaux loosens a low whistle. "Talking to Paisley on campus? You're a daredevil."

I roll my eyes. This whole thing is ridiculous. I would ask Paisley out. In a heartbeat. It's just... I know what her parents are like. Despite Paisley being twenty, they control her as if she's fifteen. Jennifer and Henri would lock Paisley up like Rapunzel if they caught us together. It makes me sick.

Margaux pushes away from the counter, adjusting her pastel-pink apron. "Just ask her out already, Sebastian. You've had a crush on her since high school. Screw whatever our families say."