"What the fuck do you want, Jacob?" I asked calmly, steadying my breath as I avoided his eyes. I heard his feet shuffling from side to side as his steady voice echoed harshly in the empty bakery.
"That's not how you greet a customer, is it, Andrea?" he said, his voice laced with venom, a corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.
My jaw tightened, wondering what he actually wanted. I could hear Darius kissing his teeth from the back room.
"Say what you came to say and leave ?" I stated firmly so he knew that I wasn't about to fall for any of his tricks, that I was done with him and that he couldn't get to me.
"Someone's feisty this morning," he said, cackling like he had just made a joke I missed.
"I just thought you might want some of your things back" he paused, "Since you're….between homes and all," he seethed.
That was it.
I was done trying to be the bigger person. If he wanted to act like a bitch, I would too.
My hands curled into fists.
"Take your charity and get out."
His smile widened.
That was the moment I lost my patience.
"Get out. NOW. Get the fuck out," I screamed.
Darius burst into the room, with a broom in his hand, just staring at him, which worked because as soon as Jacob saw him, he moved towards the door with his hands raised like a saint being wrongfully accused.
"Are you okay?" Darius asked, running to hold me after he stared him down as he left the shop, threatening to beat him up if he ever came back. He let go after a while, leading me to a seat to calm down and hand me a cup of water.
My hands shook as I drank the water in small gulps, smiling at him as I gave him the cup back. He and my sister were the only ones that kept me from losing my mind during the last few months, and I would be eternally grateful for that. I rubbed his hand, giving him a squeeze, letting him know I really appreciated this.
"Do you want to take the day off?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"No, of course not. I'm fine," I said, tucking my hands under my thighs. If I kept still, maybe he wouldn't notice my hands were shaking.
"You're shaking, Andrea," he said, his brows knitting together as he stared at me with pity, like I was a little puppy that twisted its ankle, like I was some kind of pity case.
"I'm fine, Darius. Let's get to work. We have a cake to deliver by six," I said, trying to distract him from what just happened. I loved that he cared, but I didn't want him seeing me like a dejected child and leaving just like the rest did.
"If you say so. I'll get the flour and the mixing bowls," he said.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. We made the cake for the woman who was throwing her 50th birthday party. She thanked us for how it turned out, telling us how she would refer us to her friends and all of that.
We sold a total of two pies the whole day.
Two.
I wasn't sure if that counted as hope or desperation.
By seven, we decided that it would be best to close the shop, as it didn't seem like anybody else was going to come this late. Darius left a little earlier as he had an errand to run.
Stretching I stood up to lock up the shop and call it a day. The back lights went off with a click as I pulled the window shutters down and left the shop.
I locked the door, trying to put the keys in my bag, but I wasn't looking as I bumped into someone and cursed as I fell to the ground. It was like hitting a wall.
"I'm so sorry," I muttered apologies as I came face to face with his shoes, black leather shoes
Really expensive ones.
I slowly looked up and was met with a sharp jawline that was set in a tight frown and eyes that felt strangely familiar.
I stood face to face with his chest. He had a black shirt on with a silver necklace, his hair slicked back and glistening under the night. His eyes looked very familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I knew him from.
"Eyes on the road next time, lady," he said rudely as he hurriedly moved along in long strides like he was rushing somewhere.
"Rude" I thought to myself as I walked to the bus stop.
I couldn't believe it.
My sofa was on my mum's porch as I walked up to the house. This was what he meant. That sick son of a bitch threw my things out in the open
What if they had been stolen.
I had to remember to tell Darius that he had permission to beat his ass next time he saw him around the shop. Pushing the things to a corner of the yard, I headed to the door and was surprised when I found my mother already making dinner.
"Oh, welcome back, Andrea," she started. "How was work?" she asked as I stood there genuinely dumbfounded as to why the hell the woman who basically wanted to cut my head off because I asked for breakfast was making me dinner.
Maybe it wasn't for me.
"Is that just for you?" I asked, totally ignoring her question about how my day was.
"Don't be silly," she laughed. "Grab a plate. Let's eat," she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
I grabbed a plate, the chair scraping across the floor making a screeching sound I sat down. I wasn't that stupid to reject a free meal, and with the day I had, a homemade meal could actually make me feel a little bit better.
"I want to talk to you about something." she said, not even two forks into my food.
I knew something was wrong. She wouldn't do all this if she wasn't trying to butter me up to do something for her.
"What is it?" I asked not hiding my irritation.
"So… my friend's son just got back into town," she said her eyes still fixed on her food. I didn't see how any of this had anything to do with me.
"And I've set you up with him… tomorrow night," she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
"What?" I blurted, my jaw dropping.
"You remember Matthew, right?" she asked, her eyes sparkling innocently, my stomach turning instantly at the mention of that name.
Of course I remembered Matthew.
Why wouldn't I remember the boy that made my life a living hell.
What had she done?