As much as I loved running my own business there was always a downside- the paperwork. It took hours to go through everything and by the time I was finished I'd be exhausted. Today, however, I was avoiding anything administration as I knew it would give me a headache that would last the rest of the weekend, at least. 

My company wasn't in trouble, far from it. La Petite Pâtisserie was thriving and making more money that I'd ever predicted when I did the number crunching before launching the shop but that was part of the problem. The company was now so well known that I had wolves clawing at the door, offering big bucks in a potential takeover. I was currently at war with some Yank that was determined that he was going to buy me out despite my protestations that I was not selling up. This was my baby and I'd put far too much time and effort, not to mention blood, sweat and tears, into making it a profitable business. 

In the past week, I'd been trying to come up with ways to keep the alpha wolf at bay. Never one to ask for help, I was trying to come up with plans that would do the job but I knew that if the worst would come to the worst, I'd eventually have to cave in and ask the one person that I'd been trying to avoid discussing the matter with. My father, while I love him dearly, would revel in the opportunity to help me but I'd built this company up from the ground myself and I didn't want to dilute that. 

"Hey, Charlotte?" A soft voice spoke from the doorway of my office. I looked up and saw Lauren smiling politely at me. "The car is here."

I nod. "Thanks, Lauren," I say, a heavy sigh in my voice. "I'll be down now."

Powering down the computer, I neatly arrange my desk in an attempt to buy more time before I had to head to my doom. When I run out of distractions, I make my way down to the shop and check that everything is in order before I leave. It didn't escape me the way that Nate and Arnaud both turn to look at me with clear confusion in their eyes. It wasn't until Aimee slipped into the kitchen that I finally understood the look the men gave me.

"Holy cow," Aimee gasped. Setting the dishes down on the side, she held up her hand and instructed me to spin. I duly obliged. "You're dressed up. Where are you going?"

Not wanting to tell them the truth about the lunch I was headed to, I simply shrugged my shoulder and said, "Out." Swiftly exiting the kitchen when I felt Arnaud's stare on me, I made my way to where Lauren and Joanne stood and looked between them. "I'm going out and Arnaud's in charge of the kitchen. Lauren, you're in charge out here. Joanne, you're in charge of making sure that Aimee doesn't ruin my business or flirt with customers. I'll have my phone with me. Don't be afraid to call over the slightest problem. In fact, I may give a pay rise to the first person that can get me out of this stupid lunch."

Before I gave them any more ideas of how to get more money out of me, I slid out the door but not before I bumped into a familiar face. Or rather, a familiar chest. Solid, broad and perfectly defined, even under a white shirt, I looked up at met Isaac Fletcher's azure eyes. Panic flowed through my veins as I struggled to comprehend what he was doing here. I opened my mouth to speak, but it wasn't my voice that I heard. Nor was it Isaac's. 

"Charlotte, are we going or not?" That annoying American accent called out to me. 

Without missing a beat, I found myself explaining myself to Isaac. "It's a work thing."

He didn't reply. He just nodded his head, brushed passed me and walked into La Petite Pâtisserie where he proceeded to joke around with Lauren and Joanne. Watching through the glass front of the shop, my blood boiled when I saw Aimee approach Isaac, bringing her flirting A-game with her. I tried to ignore the way she put her hand on his arm, the way he flashed her his best smile or the way that he would throw his gaze in my direction, but I couldn't. Every little thing about Isaac and Aimee's interaction pissed me off. 

"Charlotte?"

Ignoring the man that I was supposed to be going out with, I stormed back into the shop and loudly- and rather obnoxiously- cleared my throat. The two in front of me sprung apart, both staring at me incredulously. 

"Get back to work, Aimee," I tell her with a certain coldness in my voice. When she finally scuttles off, I move my attention to Joanne. Speaking was unnecessary as she simply ducked her head and ran off after the youngest member of our working team. "Isaac, please stop flirting with my staff."

He guffawed. "Jealous, Lottie?"

"No." It was an absolute lie. Even he could tell that it was. Brushing off Isaac's mildly amused smug smile, I folded my arms across my chest and huffed. "Why are you here?"

Appearing from nowhere, Lauren handed over a take-out box and a go-to coffee cup. Taking his order from Lauren, Isaac gave a polite 'thank you' and then inclined his head at me as he left. It annoyed me that he didn't pay me any more attention than he just did but it wasn't as if I should be surprised. Wasn't I the one that had pushed him away?

"Charlotte?"

In my frustration, I spun on my heels and snapped, "What?!"

Hating how unprofessional I was being, I ducked my head and quickly marched from the shop, heading back outside to the car that had been waiting for the past ten minutes. The driver closed the door once I was settled inside and I impatiently waited for the American to join me, not that I really wanted him to. 

The American- the wolf that was trying to take over my business- is Clark Reiss and having been trying to get me to meet with him for months on end, I've finally given in. I hastily made the decision when I was in a foul mood on Monday morning and Clark caught me at a bad time. There wasn't any way of backing out, especially now that I was in the car.

"I think I underestimated you, Charlotte Delaney," Clark's thick American drawl commented from my side. I couldn't pinpoint his accent perfectly but I could hear the markers of Texas, New York and a little smidge of California which were a strange mix. Still, he turned to face me and smiled. "You're a feisty one. I like that, I can respect that. Even if it means that this business deal is going to be trickier than usual. Now, let me guess, the guy back there is an ex? No, wait! A current boyfriend but you're currently having an argument?"

I frowned. "'A current boyfriend' as in you're implying that I have more than one?" I challenged. When Clark was about to answer, I held up my hand to stop him. After all, he says he likes my feisty side. "Don't answer that. It's none of your business and unless you want me to jump out at the next set of traffic lights, you won't mention my private life again."

"Haha," he laughed earnestly. "Lunch is going to be fun."

I'd done my Googling about Clark Reiss and I knew that he was like a dog with a bone when he set his sights on something. He was a self-made millionaire that earned most of his fortune with tech start-ups and was now looking to move into other ventures. Unfortunately, he'd taken a liking to my business. 

As I scrolled through the Google results, I learnt that Clark Reiss was almost forty years old, had been married twice before, didn't have any children- that he knew of- and was well-known in the celebrity world for dating models. At least I wouldn't have to worry about him flirting with me; as long as we focused on business talk, I could get through this lunch.

"We're here," Clark noted as the car stopped outside Sebon, a French restaurant that had recently opened in the city. I couldn't help but be impressed that Clark managed to get a table here as I'd heard it had an eight-week waiting list before anyone could dine here. He must have friends in high places and pulled a few strings. When we entered the restaurant, he ushered me over to a corner table like he owned the place and proceeded to tell the waitress to bring a bottle of white wine to the table, preferably fruity. It was ' the lady's favourite', he commented. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously on him. "I've done my research on you just as I would imagine you've researched me. I don't get into bed with strangers."

"Good because neither do I," I retaliate, momentarily ignoring the fact that I had arguably jumped into bed with a stranger. Although, we're talking about two different 'jumping into beds.' The blush crept to my cheeks, nevertheless. "Shall we get down to business? What exactly do you want with my company?"

Clark laughed. "Straight to the point, huh?" He sat up straighter and placed his elbows on the table. "I want to buy into La Petite Pâtisserie because I think it has the potential to be a global company. I want to help you expand into overseas markets and make your company more profitable. I want-"

"I get it," I cut him off. "Now, let's see if you get me. I like the fact that La Petite Pâtisserie is not a global company. I like the fact that I've built my business from the ground up in London and have a loyal customer base here. I like the fact that it's profitable without having a monopoly in the industry."

"I like that too," he smirks. 

I shake my head. "No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't want to buy into it, you'd just let it be. Seeing as you've done your research on me, you'd know that I'm from a ridiculously wealthy family. If I had the completely insane idea of turning La Petite Pâtisserie into a monster, I would look for investment within the Delaney Holdings Group but to reiterate, I don't want that."

Standing up from my chair, I picked up the clutch bag from the table and gave Clark a polite, yet conclusive, smile. "My business is not for sale, Mr Reiss. I'm a woman who knows what she wants and that also means that I know what I don't want. I'm stubborn and nothing you can say or do will change my mind. If you try to come at me or take La Petite Pâtisserie, I will come down on you like a tonne of bricks. I'm protective of what's mine, Mr Reiss, and if you think I'm feisty now, then God only knows what you'll think of me if you ever cross me."

"Charlotte," Clark started to call after me when I began to walk away. I didn't bother to stop. "You don't have a ride back to the bakery."

I laughed. A little maniacally. "Want a bet?"

When I finally exited Sebon, I saw the familiar black car waiting for me at the curbside. When I pulled the door open and jumped inside, I saw Sam's expectant face staring back at me. "Well?" He asked. "Did you make it clear that what's yours is yours?"

"Don't worry," I assure him. "I think he got the message. Now, let's go back to La Petite Pâtisserie. I have a massive craving for some macarons. And I don't even like them that much."

I know that these chapters are really slow and nothing much is going on but it's helping to set the scene. For example, this one shows a lot about Charlotte and how she'd do anything to protect her business, or as she calls it, her 'baby.' This will be important for future chapters. 

Oh, and introducing Jensen Ackles as Clark Reiss!