Chapter 4 Dessert Shop Becomes Proposal Battlefield

# Chapter 4: Dessert Shop Becomes Proposal Battlefield

The press release changed everything.

Within hours of Justin announcing the triplets as his heirs, our quiet life imploded. Reporters descended on Mama's Oven like vultures, camping outside with telephoto lenses and shouting questions whenever we appeared at the windows. The town's lone traffic light became a bottleneck as news vans jockeyed for parking spots.

"This is insane," I muttered, peering through the blinds at the media circus outside. "The children can't even go to school."

"They don't need to," Justin replied calmly, tapping away on his laptop at my kitchen table. "I've arranged for private tutors. They'll start tomorrow."

I whirled around. "You did what? Without consulting me?"

"It's a security measure, Joan," he explained with infuriating patience. "The children of one of the world's wealthiest men can't just wander into public school anymore. Not with kidnappers and paparazzi out there."

The worst part was that he was right. The moment Justin had claimed the triplets publicly, their lives had changed irrevocably. I just wasn't prepared for how quickly he'd step in to rearrange our existence.

"I've also increased security," he continued. "There are four plainclothes agents outside, two more monitoring the back entrance, and a security detail for when the children need to travel."

"Travel where, exactly?" I asked, suspicion rising.

"To my house, for starters. They should see where their father lives."

"Your house is three thousand miles away," I pointed out. "In New York."

Justin closed his laptop. "Actually, I've purchased the Miller estate on the bluffs. The children and I toured it by helicopter yesterday while you were stress-baking."

The Miller estate. The largest property in the county, a sprawling mansion overlooking the ocean that had been on the market for years, its eight-figure price tag far beyond the reach of local buyers.

"You bought a house here? Just like that?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Joan," he said, his voice softening. "Not this time."

Something in his tone made my heart skip a beat, stirring memories I'd fought hard to suppress. I turned away, focusing on the bakery display cases I needed to refill.

"The shop opens in an hour. I have work to do."

"About that," Justin said, following me into the bakery's kitchen. "I don't think opening today is wise, given the media situation."

"This is my livelihood, Justin. I can't just close because you've created a media storm."

"I've created?" His eyebrow arched. "I wasn't the one who hid triplets for five years."

Before I could retort, the back door burst open and our three little hurricanes tumbled in, accompanied by Justin's head of security, a stern-faced woman named Diane who had somehow already earned the children's approval.

"Mom! Dad said we can design our own rooms at the new house!" Leo announced, bouncing on his toes.

"I want a telescope in mine," Mia declared. "To watch for aliens."

"And I want a library with one of those rolling ladders," Luna added dreamily.

I shot Justin a look that promised this conversation wasn't over, then turned to my excited children. "That sounds wonderful, but remember, we live here, above our bakery."

Three pairs of identical eyes turned to me in confusion.

"But Dad said we'd have both places," Leo said. "Like how Clark Kent has the Fortress of Solitude AND his apartment."

Justin had the grace to look slightly abashed when I glared at him. "I thought we could discuss the living arrangements later," he said.

"Yes, we will," I agreed with forced calm. "Much later. Right now, I need to prepare for opening."

"Actually, Mom," Luna said hesitantly, "there are like a million people outside with cameras. Diane says it's not safe to open the shop."

I looked to the security chief, who nodded grimly. "The crowd is growing, Ms. Powers. I wouldn't recommend allowing public access today."

Defeated, I untied my apron. "Fine. What am I supposed to do with all this fresh inventory, then?"

"Donate it," Justin suggested promptly. "I'll have someone deliver everything to the local shelters and hospitals. Tax deductible."

Always the businessman.

"Fine," I repeated, too tired to argue. "Kids, why don't you go upstairs and play while I deal with this?"

"Can we use Dad's tablet to design our rooms?" Mia asked.

Before I could answer, Justin handed over his state-of-the-art device. "The design program is already loaded. Just don't hack any international banks while I'm not looking."

They giggled as they raced upstairs, leaving me alone with Justin and an unsold bakery full of pastries.

"This isn't going to work," I said quietly once they were out of earshot.

"What isn't?"

"This co-parenting across two households, this disruption to their lives. They need stability."

Justin stepped closer, his expression serious. "I agree completely."

"You do?"

"Of course." He took my hands in his, and I was too surprised to pull away. "They need both parents, together, providing a stable home."

A warning bell rang in my mind. "Justin..."

"Marry me, Joan."

I yanked my hands back as if burned. "What? No!"

"It's the logical solution," he persisted. "We're already bound together through the children. Marriage would provide the stability they need and the legal protection you deserve."

"Legal protection? This isn't a merger, Justin! You can't just acquire a family like you buy companies!"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. "That's not what I'm doing. I'm trying to make this right."

"By proposing marriage as if it's a business transaction? Where's the love, Justin? Where's the relationship?"

"We had a relationship," he reminded me. "A good one, before you disappeared."

"We had sex," I corrected bluntly. "Great sex, yes, but we never talked about a future together. You were clear about not wanting children or family entanglements."

"People change," he insisted. "Finding out I'm a father... it's changed everything for me."

I shook my head, unconvinced. "It's been a week, Justin. You're still in the novelty phase. What happens when the reality sets in? When you realize that raising children means sacrificing your own needs daily? That it's messy and exhausting and nothing like your controlled corporate world?"

He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded once. "I understand. You need time, and proof of my commitment. I can provide both."

Something about his tone made me nervous. Justin Sarratt didn't accept rejection easily, in business or in personal matters.

My instinct proved correct. The next morning, I opened the shop door (against security's advice) to find the entire street transformed. Every shop, every lamppost, every available surface was covered in roses. Red roses, pink roses, white roses—thousands of them, turning the entire block into a fragrant garden.

Inside the bakery, the transformation was even more dramatic. Every display case had been filled with roses, every table adorned with elaborate arrangements. At the center of it all stood Justin, immaculate in a tailored suit despite the early hour, watching for my reaction.

"What have you done?" I gasped.

"Made my intentions clear," he replied simply. "Every florist within a hundred miles contributed. Good for the local economy."

"Justin, this is..."

"Romantic?" he suggested.

"Excessive," I corrected. "And completely impractical. Where am I supposed to put the pastries?"

He gestured to the side, where my usual offerings had been artfully arranged on new, expanded display shelves that definitely hadn't been there yesterday.

"You renovated my shop overnight?"

"Just some minor improvements," he said with a shrug. "The contractors were happy for the overtime pay."

I walked to the nearest display case, now filled with roses where my croissants should have been. With deliberate calm, I picked up the sugar shaker from the counter and began writing in the thin layer of powdered sugar that had settled on the glass surface.

In large, unmistakable letters: NO.

Justin's expression didn't change, but I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. "I see subtlety isn't working."

"Nothing about this is subtle," I pointed out. "And my answer won't change, no matter how many roses you buy."

Before he could respond, the shop bell jingled and Diane entered, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

"Sir, we have a situation," she said to Justin. "The children... they've accessed the Times Square broadcast system."

"They've what?" Justin and I exclaimed in unison.

Diane held up her phone, showing a live feed of the massive screens in New York's Times Square. Instead of advertisements, all the screens displayed our three children, grinning mischievously.

"Hi, America!" Leo waved enthusiastically. "We're interrupting this broadcast for an important family announcement!"

"Our daddy is trying to marry our mommy," Mia explained, "but she's being really stubborn about it."

"So we're asking for your help," Luna added solemnly. "Mom, please say yes! We want to be a real family!"

"Also," Leo chimed back in, "we want baby brothers and sisters to practice our hacking skills on!"

I stared at the screen in horror while Justin fought to contain what looked suspiciously like laughter.

"How did they even do this?" I whispered.

"They're our children," Justin replied, pride evident in his voice. "Did you expect anything less?"

"Sir," Diane interrupted, "the FBI cybercrime division is on the line. Apparently, hacking the Times Square displays is a federal offense."

Justin waved dismissively. "Tell them it's a Sarratt Group technical test. I'll make the appropriate donations to smooth things over."

"You can't just buy your way out of federal crimes," I hissed.

"Watch me," he replied with infuriating confidence. "Now, about that proposal..."

"My answer is still no!"

"Even with the children so clearly in favor?"

"They're five, Justin. Last week they were in favor of becoming astronaut pirates."

His lips twitched. "Space piracy does have a certain appeal."

Despite my frustration, I found myself fighting a smile. This was the Justin I remembered from our brief time together—quick-witted, charming, impossible to stay angry with for long.

But I couldn't afford to be charmed. Not with so much at stake.

"The roses need to go," I said firmly. "And you need to get our children off Times Square before they're arrested for cyberterrorism."

"Fine," he conceded. "But this conversation isn't over."

He wasn't kidding. Over the next two weeks, Justin launched what could only be described as a courtship campaign of shock and awe. Skywriters spelled my name over the town. Famous chefs appeared at my door offering cooking lessons. A string quartet followed me around for an entire day, playing romantic classics whenever I stopped moving.

Through it all, the children watched with delight, clearly Team Justin in this bizarre battle of wills. They had adapted to their new celebrity status with alarming ease, already speaking in the casual shorthand of wealth: "Daddy's jet" and "our summer house" and "when we visit the Tokyo office."

It was all happening too fast, spinning beyond my control.

The breaking point came when Justin rented the town square for a "community celebration" that was transparently another elaborate proposal setup. As the entire town gathered, enjoying free food and entertainment courtesy of the Sarratt fortune, Justin took the stage.

"I want to thank everyone for coming," he began, his voice amplified through professional sound equipment. "This amazing community has given a home to the four most important people in my life."

The crowd applauded as spotlights found me and the triplets at the edge of the gathering.

"Many of you have watched Joan Powers build her business from nothing, pouring her heart into every creation at Mama's Oven. What you didn't know—what I didn't know until recently—was that she was also raising our three remarkable children."

More applause, along with some knowing looks from townspeople who had clearly suspected the triplets' paternity long before Justin's dramatic arrival.

"I missed five years of their lives," Justin continued, his voice softening. "Five years of first steps, first words, first everything. I can never get that time back."

The crowd murmured sympathetically.

"But I can ensure I don't miss another moment." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "Joan Powers, will you—"

"No!" I called out, loud enough to be heard without a microphone. "Justin, stop this. Please."

A collective gasp went through the crowd as I marched toward the stage, mortified but determined.

"Joan," Justin began when I reached him, "just listen—"

"No, you listen," I insisted, grabbing the microphone. "This isn't how relationships work. You can't just decide we're getting married and steamroll over my feelings with grand gestures and public pressure."

The crowd was silent now, watching our private drama unfold with rapt attention.

"I was going to give you a choice," Justin said quietly, opening the box.

Inside wasn't a ring, as I'd expected, but a small, high-tech device I didn't recognize.

"What is that?" I asked warily.

"A uterine monitor," he explained, his voice low. "The best medical technology Sarratt Labs has developed. Because this time, I want to watch our baby grow."

The implication hit me like a tidal wave. "Are you seriously proposing that we have another child? When we haven't even figured out how to co-parent the three we already have?"

"The triplets want siblings," he pointed out. "And we make beautiful children together, Joan. Brilliant children."

"Children aren't accessories, Justin! And neither am I!"

In a burst of frustration, I grabbed the monitor from his hand and marched off the stage, straight to the catering area where several industrial ovens had been set up to keep the food warm. With the entire town watching, I yanked open one oven door and tossed the expensive device inside.

"Bake it and serve it for lunch!" I called over my shoulder as I stormed away, leaving Justin standing alone on the stage.

It wasn't until I reached the edge of the square that I realized the triplets hadn't followed me. They stood with their father, three small figures of divided loyalty, watching me walk away with identical expressions of confusion.

In that moment, I realized the true complexity of what we were facing. This wasn't just about Justin and me anymore. It was about five lives intertwined by blood and circumstance, trying to find a way forward that honored everyone's needs.

And I had no idea how to make that happen.