Chapter 13
My road rage is so bad I wish I could Bluetooth to someone’s car just to tell them they drive like shit.
— Maven’s secret thoughts
MAVEN
“ Hello ?” the woman on the other end of the line answered, sounding cheerful and fake.
I grimaced before starting in on my spiel. “ Hey , this is Maven Brumfield . I’m currently looking for a commercial space to rent with kitchen capabilities for my bakery. I saw you have a listing on Front Street . Would you mind giving me some details on it?”
The woman hummed, sounding excited.
I waited patiently while her hands started to click away on her keyboard.
I could tell she had fake nails based solely on how loud her fingers tapped against the keyboard.
“ Found it,” she chirped. “ This is a three-thousand-square-foot commercial building that used to be a bakery. The front half was used for baking and prep, while the back half was used to package and ship items. It has…”
She went on and listed every single detail, then paused, “ But I do have another space that’s not on the market yet. Rent comes up at the end of this month, and the area for a bakery would be divine. It’s new construction right next to the police station, so crime would be nonexistent. Oh , and…”
The more she explained the second property, the more excited I became.
It also helped that the rent on the building was about a thousand dollars less a month, it had more space available than my current location, and it was brand new construction. Meaning , I wouldn’t have to work too hard to make it ready, and things wouldn’t just break at the drop of a hat like an old building would.
“ It sounds fantastic. When can I come see it?”
Now ?
I mean, I could always text a certain someone’s mom and find out that certain person’s address, then be waiting for him to get home…
“ I’m free tomorrow,” she replied, disappointing me. “ Late afternoon.”
I found myself smiling wide despite her not being able to get to it today, and said, “ I’m definitely interested in checking it out. Can you text me when would be a good time and the address of this building?”
“ Certainly ,” she said.
After a few more pleasantries we hung up, and I started to close out of all the listings on my computer.
Once done, I went to the kitchen and stared blankly into my fridge, wondering if it was okay to eat Chinese food that was over a week old.
Before I could make the leap, my phone rang. Since it showed Dorsey calling, I answered it.
“ Hey , sis. How are you doing?” I answered absently, moving to the drawer with my take-out menus.
“ This is not Dorsey .” My stepmother’s voice came over the line.
I pulled back to look at my phone to make sure I hadn’t misread who was calling, only to get a Facebook Messenger message from Dorsey saying: Mom came and took my phone because it’s time for us to grow up and get our own cell phone plans. She even took the phone back that I paid for because it was on her plan . Freakin ’ bitch.
Another one came right on its heels saying: I’m at a friend’s house in Gatlinburg , Tennessee about fifteen hours away. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get a phone when I get back. But if you need me, message me on here.
When I put the phone back to my ear it was to hear my stepmother still talking. “…want to come in and talk to you.”
Well , that wouldn’t be happening.
“ I’ll meet you outside,” I said instead.
Just as I said that a boom of thunder sounded.
I looked out the window and grimaced.
“ At least this might make it fast,” I grumbled as I kicked something small and plastic from beside my couch.
I frowned at the small plastic case, then smiled.
I’d taken the little plastic ring from Auden’s cup holder when he’d driven me back home after my car was towed.
I’d stuffed it in between the couch cushions so he didn’t see it and question me about it.
I wasn’t sure why I’d taken it. I’d just noticed it and went with it, only to regret it later after I decided that he’d probably gotten it for someone specific. Someone who was definitely not me.
But then I’d forgotten about it until now.
Bending over, I picked up the plastic container and popped the top off. Reaching inside, I plucked the ring out of the brittle plastic cup and slid it on my pinky finger—the only finger it’d fit.
I smiled at the sparkly fit.
But immediately I started to feel bad, because there was no way this wasn’t for a kid, and I’d straight up stolen it.
Before I could feel too bad, though, my phone rang again, reminding me that my stepmother was waiting for me.
I sighed, slipped my feet into my slippers, and headed outside.
Luckily , she’d just pulled up to the curb as I made my way down the length of my walk.
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for her to get out.
She did, her eyes narrowed, and immediately started in. “ What’s this I hear about you dating some cop?”
The way she said ‘cop’ made it sound like she was describing a slug.
“ I’m not sure why it matters,” I said as I started to nervously twist the ring on my pinky finger.
My stepmother sure knew how to make my cortisol levels rise.
From the moment she’d come into my life at the age of seven, she’d taken the ‘mother’ thing over the top. Not only did I have a dad who would stalk my every move, my stepmother took over when my dad couldn’t.
She hated when she was the last to know things, too.
Such as finding out that I had a thing for a cop at the place my father watched over with the same diligence he watched over his child.
“ You know how cops are, Maven ,” she chided me, using the same tone of voice she’d used when I was a kid and did something she didn’t approve of.
“ I know how you think cops are,” I agreed. “ But not all of them are womanizers and players. Some of them, like the one who is starting to mean something to me, are really great. I don’t see Auden being anything but crazy devoted to the woman he decides to set his sights on.”
My stepmother narrowed her eyes. “ You won’t date him.”
I frowned at her. “ I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. And why would it matter to you and Dad who I date in the first place? I can’t remember a single time y’all ever said anything to Scott about who he dates.”
She threw up her hands. “ Boys and girls aren’t the same, and I’ve told you since you were a teenager that what’s acceptable for a boy isn’t always acceptable for a girl.”
Again , one of the stupid rules from my childhood that had never made sense.
Heck , even Dorsey had been able to do more things than I could. I’d been seventeen when I’d finally grown a pair and secretly got an Instagram and Facebook account.
I’d had to use my middle name and a fake last name to keep out of the sights of my father—who very much checked on a weekly basis to make sure that I wasn’t doing anything I wasn’t supposed to—i.e. getting a social media account.
I had to sign in on my friends’ phones, and eventually, I procured a secret phone and paid for my own plan to get around my father checking to make sure I wasn’t being a ‘bad’ kid.
“ I realize that it’s a shock that I’m actually growing up and doing something outside of my wheelhouse,” I started. “ But to be honest, what I do and don’t do stopped being your and Dad’s business the moment I turned eighteen and moved out of the house.”
Her eyes narrowed. “ You’re being ridiculous.”
The rain started on the tail end of her words.
She pointed at her ancient Suburban and said, “ Get in.”
Knowing I would have to deal with this now to keep her out of my hair at a later date, I decided to go with it.
I got into her passenger seat, and she started the beast up, then crossed her arms over her chest and said, “ I want to talk to you about this.”
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her.
“ Then talk,” I said.
She put the vehicle into drive and pulled out onto the street.
“ Where are you going?” I asked.
“ Your neighbor was looking at me like I was a maniac,” she grumbled. “ And I think better when I’m driving.”
Because arguing would be useless, I chose not to protest her driving and tapped my foot against the floorboard.
I waited for her to ‘discuss’ and wasn’t surprised when she immediately went into more bullshit.
“ And Scott told me that your prospective cop boyfriend treated him poorly,” she proclaimed. “ And another thing! You got a lawyer to deal with your father? Don’t you think a simple phone call could’ve solved that?”
Was she delusional?
“ Are you living in the same planet as me?” I asked her. “ Since when do you think that a simple phone call can solve anything with Chief Austin ?”
Vickie narrowed her eyes at the road, then threw up her hands, making my heart skip a beat at her lack of safety.
Dr . Vickie Austin was a stickler for the rules of the road because of all the trauma victims she had to work on in her time in the OR at Dallas Memorial .
But she was acting weird today.
More jerky.
More accusative.
“ Vickie , is something wrong?” I asked her.
“ And you just had to move out of the house, then open a business that’s become so public just to spite your father’s rules,” she continued, acting as if I had never asked a question.
“ I moved out because Dad was smothering me, and you let him,” I pointed out. “ And that was years ago. Me opening a business was the next step. I worked for a bakery for years and years, and it’s always been my dream. Why would living my dream be a bad thing?”
She continued to ignore me. “ You need to close it down.”
“ Close it down?” I asked her incredulously. “ I’m not closing anything down.” I paused. “ Actually , I am. But only to move the bakery out of Dallas . I’m going to look at a building tomorrow.”
“ You would leave your dad and Scott ?” she asked, voice rising.
What was her deal with my father and Scott ?
“ I hate both of them, so why would their opinions matter to me whatsoever?” I questioned her. “ Again , your blind allegiance to them is embarrassing. You have no freakin’ clue how they’ve treated me over the years because you willingly stick your head in the sand and drown out the world around you. And , just sayin’, but when I move the bakery to a different city, Dad won’t have the same foothold there that he does here. So maybe I’ll get to live my freakin’ life without worrying whether or not my bakery will be shut down for no fucking reason.”
She started driving faster, and my heart started to pound.
I reached for my seatbelt, pulling it across my chest.
“ What are you going on about? He’s not doing anything.” She snorted, again speeding up.
My stomach summersaulted in my belly.
But of course, I was a glutton for punishment.
And , if my stepmother was going to actually listen to me for a change, who was I to waste an opportunity?
“ I’m considering going to the media about all of this,” I said. “ The lawyer actually suggested it. She said it’d be a good way to shine a spotlight on the actions of a ‘respectable police chief,’” I snapped.
“ You wouldn’t dare.” She looked at me then, and her eyes were wide and wild.
Why were her pupils so dilated?
“ Oh yes, I would,” I said. “ I’m going to make sure that my face and bakery name is on every single news station in the Dallas Fort Worth metroplex.”
That comment was apparently the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“ I should’ve never agreed to marry your father,” she hissed. “ This is too much!”
“ What are you talking about?” I asked. “ Why would you have to agree to marry someone?”
She slowed to a stop, and I had the irrational thought that I should bail right here in the middle of the road, rain and all. I unbuckled my seatbelt, ready.
But before I could reach for the door handle, she slammed her foot on the gas pedal. “ You’re not being a good daughter!”
“ You’re fucking nuts.” I ordered, “ Slow down and let me out of this car!”
She didn’t listen.
In fact, she only went faster.