Chapter 2 - Laila
Laila slid her bedroom window open to look outside. It was a habit passed down from her beloved grandmother, who raised her. Grandma Rose always said it was good to appreciate the gift of a new day. Laila would then watch her step onto the porch of their house in Bellefleur to take a huge whiff of the morning air.
Living in an apartment in Cedar Ridge over her bakery, Laila didn’t have a fancy wrap-around porch, so sticking her head out the window was the only option. As she inhaled, the crisp fall breeze lingered in the air. Suddenly, she felt less appreciative as Grandma Rose had taught her and more miserable.
The dreary feeling increased as she looked around at the trees, which no longer had green leaves. The array of yellows, browns, and oranges was supposed to be a pretty sight, but Laila hated it. Autumn reminded her too much of him .
As always, thoughts of Toll… He-who-should-not-be-named caused a sharp pain in her chest that radiated to her soul. How could the agony of her heartbreak be this intense a whole five years later? As she continued staring at the colorful trees, his image appeared as vividly as if she’d seen him just a few minutes ago rather than five years ago.
He-who-should-not-be-named had the dreamiest green eyes she’d ever looked into. The shade of emerald was mesmerizing. She always felt like she was drowning in their depths and didn’t want to be saved. His eyes were contrasting to his fair skin and luxuriously silky chestnut hair. She had loved his body too… absolutely adored it. He was a giant compared to her at over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and toned muscles.
Laila was on the curvier side, but she never felt self-conscious with him because he could lift her as if she were as light as a feather. Her mate had always made her feel sexy and gorgeous. She missed that. She missed him. A waft of cold air hit her in the face, and she blinked as if coming out of a trance. Letting out a loud, derisive snort, she shook her head.
“Get a hold of yourself,” she whispered with disgust. Pining over a man who had walked out of her life without a backward glance was beyond pathetic. He-who-should-not-be-named was a callous bastard who never loved her. If he had, would he have so easily walked away after three perfect years together?
He was an asshole, and she never wanted to see him again. Laila slid her window shut with finality as if to shut off all memories of her ex. She had things to do and a business to run, and she wouldn’t waste another second thinking about the past.
***
Laila was flipping the open sign around as one of her employees arrived. Cora Walsh entered the bakery with a swirl of breeze and colorful leaves behind her. Her scarf somehow unraveled from around her neck and flew back through the door. Cora muttered a curse and jumped after it, taking the leaves back out with her.
The young witch, who had a strong connection to nature, barely had control over her powers. She reminded Laila of Toll… that man’s sister, Elena. Gritting her teeth, she reminded herself not to think about anything or anyone related to him.
Unsuccessful in catching her flyaway scarf, Cora threw her hands up in defeat. As she stepped back into the bakery, she sighed. “There goes another one. That’s the third scarf I’ve lost this week.” Hands on her hips, she turned to Laila. “Hey, Laila. How’s it going? Do you think anyone noticed that mini tornado that arrived with me? I hate that the elements go crazy around me some days.”
They both peered through the bakery’s floor-to-ceiling window warily.
“Hi… I certainly hope not,” Laila said.
Cora heaved a sigh. “I’d hate to scare the non-supes.” She stomped her way around the counter as she unbuttoned her jacket.
Laila chuckled. Cora called anyone who wasn’t a member of the paranormal community non-supes … non-supernaturals. “Yeah, the people in this town are clueless about us. It’s best if we keep it that way.” Cedar Ridge wasn’t like Bellefleur, where everyone was either supernatural or fully aware of their existence, so no one had to hide. Most of the supernatural community preferred to keep their existence secret for fear that humans might attack.
Others didn’t care if humans knew otherworldly beings were walking around. In fact, they openly preyed on humans, which was dangerous. That was why the elders in Bellefleur created the Black Ops to covertly keep the order of things. Laila had a love-hate feeling for the group. While she appreciated the bravery and sacrifices of its members, she hated that the organization was why she’d lost her father. The typical pang of grief when she thought about her dad hit her, but she pushed it aside to comfort her young employee.
“Don’t worry, Cora. If anyone saw anything, they’d pass it off as a natural gust of wind. The human mind typically finds a way to rationalize the extraordinary out of fear and lack of understanding.”
“Are you a pastry chef or a psychologist?” Cora teased.
Laila smirked. “Well, technically, our pastries are therapeutic. I always feel better when I pig out on cream cheese Danishes after a stressful day.”
Cora smirked. “I know what you mean. My therapy is cheesecake.”
“Ugh. I love cheesecake.” Laila sighed and gestured to her lower half. “Hence, these childbearing hips.”
Cora rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, you look great.”
Laila lifted a skeptical eyebrow but smiled.
“Speaking of my great-looking boss…”
“Uh-oh,” Laila muttered.
Cora was a tiny thing, like a pixy, with her height and willowy form, but she had a big personality and was super mischievous. “Relax, I didn’t do anything crazy… this time. I simply told my sociology professor that I knew of a gorgeous, twenty-eight-year-old who might be perfect for him.”
“Cora.”
“Come on, Laila. I’ve worked for you for three years and never seen you date. You should be dating.”
“Why do you persist in interfering with my love life… or lack thereof?”
“Because I don’t want to see you end up like old Mrs. Henson, who’s still bitter about her husband taking all her money and running away to Vegas. It was thirty years ago, for heaven’s sake. She now owns a houseful of cats, and she perpetually scowls. I’ve never seen the woman smile.” Cora pouted. “I don’t want you to end up like my dad, either. Miserable and resentful. I want you to be happy.”
Laila’s heart instantly softened. She was about to scold Cora for yet another attempt to hook her up and tell her to mind her nineteen-year-old business. However, she realized the girl might be projecting her fear and guilt onto her. Cora’s mother died giving birth to her, and her father had been distant toward her ever since.
“Oh, Cora… I’m not bitter,” Laila reassured her. Miserable, maybe, but never bitter. Laila had too much going for her to wallow in anger. “I most definitely won’t become a cat lady, either. My apartment isn’t big enough for that many cats.”
Cora snorted her amusement. “Uh-huh. Well, I’m sorry for meddling. It’s just… I’ve felt bad since you told me about what happened with your mate.”
Laila smiled sadly. Even though Cora was quite a few years younger, she’d felt comfortable sharing her failed romance with her. Over the years, they’d developed a sisterly bond. “I’m okay, Cora. Really.”
Nibbling on her lower lip, Laila wondered if Cora was right. After five years, she should be dating if she had truly moved on, as she convinced herself. Maybe it was time to ease back into the dating pool… if even to dip her toes in. “Cora, this professor of yours. How old is he?”
Cora’s face lit up with the possibility of taking on the role of Cupid. “I’ll tell you all about him around back.”
Laila sighed. “All right.”
***
Laila’s heart tapdanced behind her rib cage. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door and shook her head. She’d just taken out the trash and thought she sensed someone out there. She was being ridiculous. There was no one in the alley. Certainly not who her mind and body told her it was.
It was the strangest thing. For the entire day, she felt as if she was being watched, and the feeling intensified when she ventured into the alley at the back of the bakery. She thought she felt the presence of someone familiar. It had been a while since her wolf had any interest in surfacing to alert her of anything. Five years, to be exact. Her wolf had retreated far into the deepest, darkest corner of her mind… like a wounded, heartbroken animal, licking her wounds in silence.
But tonight, she’d clawed her way to the surface after getting a whiff of the slightest hint of a familiar scent. Though Laila felt eyes on her, it hadn’t elicited the hair-raising, foreboding feeling of being in danger. Instead, she felt the delightful tingle of attraction run up her spine, and butterflies had run amok in her stomach.
She’d only ever felt that way when she was close to him . He-who-should-not-be-named because the mere mention of his name might cause her to spiral back into depression.
“Nope. Not going there,” she murmured. It had taken years to climb out of the dark emotional vortex she’d plunged into when he rejected her. It was bad enough that he’d been harassing her memories all day. Now she was feeling him. Ridiculous.
Although she convinced herself she’d gotten over him, deep down, she suspected she hadn’t. If she really had, would she still feel so cold and empty inside, as if he’d killed a part of her when he left? Wouldn’t she have a boyfriend or husband by now? It was like nothing or no one could fill the void he left. The only things that brought her a sliver of comfort were her job and food, and the Lord knew she didn’t need any extra pounds added to her already voluptuous figure.
She reached deep for her composure before she got to the bakery’s atrium. Cora was still there because she was always the last employee to leave. She liked to stick around to help Laila close up, which she thought was sweet. If Cora saw her like this, she’d immediately know something was wrong, and Laila wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation. She just wanted to close the shop, head upstairs, and soak in a warm bath. The bakery had been busy all day, and she’d worked her ass and feet off in the kitchen.
She trudged through the swinging door into the shop. She smiled when she noticed someone standing on the other side of the counter.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed…”
The smile tumbled off her lips, and she froze. Her mind refused to process who she was looking at for a moment. It had to be a trick of the light, or maybe her exhaustion playing games with her senses. Perhaps she was hallucinating after all that weirdness from this morning and just now outside when she thought she’d smelled and felt him close by. However, when she blinked hard several times and the tall, imposing figure with emerald eyes didn’t disappear, her jaw dropped open.
“Tolliver?”
She gawked at the ghost from her past—the first and only man to break her heart.