Chapter 5: Enter the Villain

Chatterton piled the boxes on the backseat of the limo without a word. He put them all on the side opposite where Declan liked to sit. Each of the white boxes, stamped on the lid with the Victory Cupcakes logo and tied with two pieces of string.

It would be a shame if the shop had to close. Or if Lind was bought out by someone else who would want to change things. Victory Cupcakes was perfect as it was and needed to stay open, with Lind at the helm, as long as she wanted to keep working.

Declan dug into a box of beautiful gourmet cupcakes, unable to resist. More resolved than ever to get hold of Victory Cupcakes, so he could give it all the funding needed while keeping all the staff. It was a one-of-a-kind and wonderful place that benefited the community just by being there.

The box was gone by the time he got to the office. Declan had skipped breakfast that morning to stop in at Victory Cupcakes. It wasn’t quite the warm welcome he’d dreamed of, but still better than the week before. At least no one had thrown anything at him.

No one knew his true intentions for the quirky little bakery with the interesting name. He couldn’t have known that he was more of a philanthropist than anything else.

A lot of his associates had a charity or two to make themselves look good. Most of their time and energy was dedicated to increasing the fortunes they were born with. Declan was different in more ways than one and would never be taken seriously again if he didn’t play along. The charade he engaged in most days was the price he paid for being who he was.

“At ease,” he told Jake, signing in at security.

It was the last bit of levity he was likely to have that day, and Declan was determined to enjoy it.

The Cocteau Twins unspooled in the Walkman as Declan stepped once again onto an empty elevator for the long, lonely ride to the top.

“Mr. Perry,” Anna said, looking like she might curtsy.

Declan nodded on his way past. It hurt to be so cold to someone who’d worked with him for so long. Still pretending that he had his assistants send her gifts for Christmas and her birthday. It was him, it was always him. Every employee at every business under the Perry Enterprises banner was listed in a binder on his desk. Along with a few interesting bits of personal information.

Declan was hands-off in terms of ownership but very much involved in running things. Facilitating more than being a manager or a boss.

Declan got the first-generation Game Boy from his drawer in the quiet of his corner office. Before he could crack the high score, a knock came on the door.

“You’re new,” Declan said, still out of cold bastard mode.

“Um, yes, uh, sir. I started yesterday.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah Clarke?”

“Not sure about that?”

“Yes,” she said with a nervous giggle, “I am Sarah Clarke.”

“What can I do for you, Ms. Clarke?”

“I’m here to remind you of the gala tonight?” she said, still making it sound like a question.

Declan had forgotten. Everyone was going to be there. To miss it would have been career suicide.

“Thank you, Ms. Clarke, is that all?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Good.”

The door closed with a gentle click, and Declan was free to go into panic mode. Back in his chair, he tried to collect his thoughts. Deep in his mind vault, everything became clear.

The gala was that night, and he was supposed to be going with Katie Myers. The only one of his female acquaintances he could stand for over five minutes. As luck would have it, she hadn’t been asked to the gala by anyone else.

Katie was weird, at least in their circles, but different than Declan. The fact was they were both misfits, in their own ways. If the gala was to be required, at least they could be miserable together.

The workday neared an end, and Declan went home to the echoing mansion, where he got ready to spend hours fighting boredom with one of his few friends.

In the dark of his room, already full of dinner, Declan changed out of it. Exchanging Tom Ford for a white-tie tuxedo. Dressed to the nines as only the 1% could manage, he went downstairs and into the waiting limo.

“Sir,” Chatterton said with a nod.

“Chatterton,” Declan said.

The boxes were gone, taken care of after their return. Chatterton was competent in much more than just driving.

Chatterton started up the limo, coaxing it to a low thrum, venturing back out into the world once more.

Katie’s house came up soon, Chatterton knowing the way around town better than a cabbie. One honk was all it took. Katie appeared like a vision from the house, which was as big as Declan’s. Dressed in a gorgeous neo-Victorian style, Katie carried her shoes down the stone walk to avoid an unfortunate incident.

“Hey,” she said, getting into the car as Chatterton held the door for her.

“Hello.”

They shared a quick and awkward hug, not sure where they stood. Soon enough, Chatterton got them on their way.

The glitz blinded outside the gala. All the stops pulled out. The city's ‘best and brightest’ showed all their glamor while raising money for the needy.

It was one of the few times in the year most at least pretended to agree with him. Even if it was a lie, Declan could at least pretend for a time.

Things were even fancier inside. Soft strains of strings joined the soft babble of the indoor fountains as turn-of-the-century chandeliers shed light on things.

Declan and Katie made their appearance and did the rounds. Everyone saw them together at least once. It spared them the stigma of not being able to find a date.

“Champagne?” Katie asked as a tray passed by.

“Please.”

Declan never saw him coming. An irritating sort of subtlety was one of his rival’s worst features.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Steve Anders said.

“Didn’t think I would have the nerve?” Declan asked.

“Something like that.”

“You’ve always underestimated me.”

“You took your best friend to senior prom,” Anders pointed out.

“She was the only one I could stand.”

“That sounds familiar.”

Anders leered at Katie, at least until Declan stepped between them.

“Focus,” Declan said.

“Right, I heard you’re going for the Victory Cupcakes buyout.”

“I heard the same thing about you.” Declan countered.

“Just like the old days, hey?”

“Not exactly, no,” Declan said.

“Well, may the best man win,” Anders said, extending an olive branch.

“Poor choice of words,” Katie said.