Chapter 5 - The Baker’s Triumph
Twenty minutes later, the chaotic energy of the federal arrest had been cleared away, and the poolside patio had returned to a semblance of normal order—minus the terrified socialites and a sobbing ex-husband.
At the center of the outdoor dining table sat an enormous, three-tiered chocolate fudge birthday cake adorned with superhero action figures and shimmering blue sparklers.
Eight-year-old Toby stood on a chair, his eyes wide and shining with unadulterated joy as twenty of his school friends sang Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs.
"Make a wish, buddy!" I cheered, standing beside the table with my arm wrapped securely around Julian’s waist.
Toby closed his eyes tight, squeezed his hands into little fists, and blew out all eight candles in one mighty gust of air.
A thunderous cheer went up from the kids. As the parents rushed forward to slice the cake and hand out juice boxes, Julian leaned down, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of my head.
"You handled that with the grace of a seasoned general, Clover," Julian whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Though I must admit, I was hoping he'd cry a little harder when the cuffs clicked."
I laughed, leaning my head against his broad shoulder. "Oh, give him time, Julian. Federal prison is a harsh environment for a man who considers Egyptian cotton a basic human right."
Julian chuckled, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me a fraction of an inch closer.
Working as a lead federal forensic auditor meant Julian spent most of his life buried in encrypted spreadsheets, tracking down white-collar criminals who thought they were smarter than the law. When my divorce lawyer had privately warned me that Richard was systematically hiding assets offshore to minimize child support, Julian had quietly volunteered to run the initial preliminary check as a favor to a mutual college friend.
That favor had turned into six months of meticulous, airtight investigation—and an unexpected, profound connection that had blossomed between us while sitting over cold takeout boxes in my small apartment kitchen, comparing balance sheets and sharing burnt coffee.
He wasn't my paid fake boyfriend. He was the man who had quietly stood in the background, waiting for the exact right moment to blow Richard’s house of cards straight into the stratosphere.
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"Hey, Uncle Julian!" Toby called out, running over with a massive slice of chocolate cake smeared across his chin. "Are you staying for the water balloon fight?"
Julian grinned, rolling up the sleeves of his linen blazer. "Try and stop me, Captain. But fair warning: I brought tactical reinforcements."
