6. Christopher
six
She had hungry eyes, and I wanted to give her what she was begging for. Thank god Skye followed me. When I saw Alexandra, with her soaked tank top clinging to her perky nipples, her gaze caressing me, I would have lost it if my daughter hadn’t been right there.
And the way Alexandra watched me try to get out of my shirt?
Fuck.
When I finally got unstuck from my soaked T-shirt, I caught her gaze stroking me from top to bottom until it settled right below my belt and her mouth opened a bit.
I can’t let that happen.
There’s too much at stake for me.
I grab a clean T-shirt from my bedroom on the way down to catch Skye at breakfast before she leaves with Grace. It’s tough for me to stay away from the bakery that early in the day, and I’m thankful for my cousin’s help. But I always pick Skye up from school in the afternoons.
“I need a favor,” I tell Grace as I pour two cups of coffee and hand her one.
“Sure.” She sits across from Skye, while I gulp my coffee standing.
“I have a new apprentice—”
“Alexandra?” She smiles. “Skye told me all about her, didn’t you, sweetie?”
Skye nods. “She’s really nice, and she’s staying less than six months, and six months is short in grown-up time. Right, Daddy?” She turns around on her chair and looks up at me, expecting a confirmation.
Six months with Alexandra in the house is going to be very long.
“I guess so.” My daughter seems to have it all figured out. I could use some of her candor right now.
“That’s what Alek-zandra said.” She turns her back to me and dives into her overnight oatmeal.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours, and these two women seem to have it all figured out amongst themselves.
I turn to Grace. “Could you show her around town today, help her settle in?” I scratch at my nails. Alexandra has a manicure, and I need her to get rid of it before starting work.
Grace frowns.
“You’ll know what to do. She’s a girl—a woman. I figured it would be more welcoming if you—”
“Of course, no worries. I could use a new face around here. Is she very young?”
I scratch my head, knowing what’s coming. “Twenty-five?”
She says nothing, just nods with this know-it-all look and a huge grin on her face.
I shake my head. Not a chance. “I gotta go,” I say, kissing Skye on the forehead. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Figs.”
Skye frowns and tilts her head. She’s totally into jokes right now, and I’m going to milk it as long as I can. “Figs who?”
“Figs the doorbell, I’ve been knocking forever.”
She erupts in a fit of laughter. “Figs! Fix! Good one, Daddy.” She high-fives me. Grace chuckles and shakes her head. “Never gets old, does it?”
“Let’s hope not,” I say, and duck into the bakehouse to check on my crew. And also so I don’t run into Alexandra.
After an hour or so, I go back up to shower. I’ve been at work since four. Mid-morning, I usually need to reset, and this morning more than usual.
The bathroom is steamy and smells different. As my brain registers that I told Alexandra to use my shower, my dick goes in full-on needy mode. I lock the door and get under the water. I close my eyes, but all I can see are Alexandra’s boobs perking toward me, begging to be fondled. What kind of sound would she make if I sucked on them? Would she push my head between her legs? How does she taste? I open my eyes to change my train of thoughts, and my gaze falls on a long, straight hair at the level of my dick.
Alexandra’s hair.
I’m done for.
I stroke myself, giving in to my fantasy of lifting her and fucking her standing up in the bathroom, then throwing her on the bed to take care of her pussy and send her pleading, then flipping her and taking her doggy style, making her mine, putting my mark on her.
That’s the price I pay for staying away from women for so long. One delicious temptation and it’s a fucking revolution in my pants. A full-on coup.
I come in long, powerful streaks that hit her single hair repeatedly. And tell myself my brain is back in power.
My relief comes, but the frustration doesn’t ease.
I shouldn’t want her now, but I still do.
Jerking off in the shower like a teenager didn’t solve the problem. I need to remove the root cause.
I need to send Alexandra back home.
I wrap a towel around my hips and grab my phone.
Sifting through the emails, I quickly find the contact I’m looking for.
After introducing myself to the receptionist at the Red Barn Foundation, I explain why I’m calling. I’m put on a brief hold, then transferred, and I repeat my request to cancel Alexandra Pierce’s apprenticeship, this time buttering it up with some bullshit excuse about another apprentice I committed to.
“I see,” the woman on the line says. “In that case, we could send her back when you have a spot for her?”
Shit. I take a deep breath. “Look, this isn’t going to work. I just need to cancel this apprenticeship. And I’ll cover a week’s pay for the apprentice, plus her expenses, or whatever you think is fair.” I start to wonder what I’m going to tell Alexandra. You’re too fuckable to be living under my roof?
“That’s disappointing. All right, then. I’ll send over the rider to the grant.”
“Come again?”
“The grant. It’s to become a loan if the apprenticeship isn’t successful.”
Fuck. Right. “But she just got here last night. We didn’t get started yet. Can’t you send me another apprentice? Anyone else.”
“Has Ms. Pierce done something to displease you?”
God, no.“No. Not—Not exactly.”
“How do you mean? What happened?”
“Why can’t you send me someone else.”
“Because these are the instructions of the late Ms. Douglas. Ms. Pierce is to complete her apprenticeship with you, in Emerald Creek. These are the conditions stated in your grant.”
When I decided to open my bakery in this small Vermont town, I applied for grants and loans without much hope. Until I received a crazy offer from a New York-based nonprofit: a grant covering the purchase of the whole building and the baking equipment. I didn’t really believe it until the money was in the bank.
“I don’t remember my grant stating a specific apprentice.” What I remember clearly now was the thirty-minute online meeting I had with Rita Douglas, a stern woman who grilled me about my baking. I looked her up online after we hung up. She was the founder of Red Barn Baking, the industrial bakery chain that had hundreds, maybe thousands of storefronts, now synonymous with industrial bread in the US. They embody everything I loathe about baking.
That I got the grant from her foundation is still unbelievable to me.
“Correct. The grant doesn’t name the apprentice, but the instructions for the disbursement of the private funds Ms. Douglas donated toward your grant do. We can’t go around it. I’m sorry.”
What was I thinking? That they’d do the right thing and help a kid learn a new trade, make a living for him or herself? Of course not. They’d use it for their own purposes. Give some training to someone in marketing. Whatever the fuck they’re going to use that for.
I made a deal with the devil, and it’s pay time.
And the price is a hot, age appropriate, single woman sleeping in my house for six months. She’s clueless about baking, but at this point it’s a detail. I can work with that. She seems motivated.
What I can’t work with, is the lust she’s awakened in me.
And maybe worse, the fact that she’s likeable.
I shut my eyes. I can do the right thing for my business and keep my grant but put my sanity at risk. Because there is no way I am going to let anything happen between us. It would be unprofessional, unethical, and a disaster when Alexandra moves back home. So, the only certain thing is, my dick is sitting this one out.
Or I can send her back and not have to live with the temptation but lose my grant and owe a shitload of money. My business is doing well enough that I could pay it back, but I have bigger dreams for the bakery that require capital. And the real reason I want to grow the business is for Skye. To offer her the best life I can.
So, the dilemma boils down to this. My sanity or my daughter’s future.
Also, I’d like to believe I’m better than that. I can get her out of my system. I just need to look the other way.
“Do you want to think about it, Mr. Wright?” the voice on the phone says.
“No. No, I’ll make it work. Thank you.” I hang up and clench my jaw.
There are three reasons why nothing can or will happen between me and Alexandra: Skye, Women, and Time.
Reason number one, Skye. She’s my priority in life. She needs stability and protection. She was abandoned by her birth mother. I can’t expose her to a substitute but uncertain mother figure. That brings me to—
Reason number two, women. Fickle creatures with often-hidden agendas. I learned that lesson early on. I’m not going to get burned again.
Reason number three, time. Alexandra is not here to stay, but she will be here long enough that any intimate relationship would lead to disaster in one of two ways. Either heartbreak for me and Skye when Alexandra leaves or a total clusterfuck of annoyance at the bakery and at home if things don’t work out between us and go south before she leaves.
And, in my experience, things always go south with women. And I don’t mean that in a dirty way.
I just hope Alexandra has what it takes to be successful in the apprenticeship, because if she doesn’t, I’m losing my grant. But hey, that’s a risk I have to take.