“You’re Just a Baker,” My Sister Screamed—The Next Time They Heard My Name, It Was on a Tokyo Flagship

supposed to see me before the party!” She rushed toward him, arms outstretched, voice climbing into that breathy register she used for cameras and wealthy men.

He sidestepped her embrace without breaking stride.

“Mr. Reed,” my father began, suddenly obsequious. “We weren’t expecting—”

But Jonathan Reed—billionaire hotel mogul, the man my sister was supposedly continue reading …