30. Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Nellie
“ H ow long do you think he’ll be here?” Ava asked, pointing to the broody man in a navy-blue suit who sat at the corner table with his arms crossed. He had been sitting in the same place since I got to the bakery an hour and a half before we opened, and he hadn’t said a word.
I shrugged. “Until we leave.” I had tried to convince Ronan I didn’t need a security guard. I told him there was no way any of his probably-rich friends were going to fit in with the pink décor, and I wasn’t going to listen to any complaining about the less-than-friendly customer who obviously wasn’t here for the cupcakes. I figured none of them would even do it. I was clearly wrong.
“Seriously?” Ava looked at me, back over her shoulder at the man who just stared at us, and then back to me. “Every day?”
“For now.” I nodded. Ronan had assured me I’d barely know he was there. So far, that wasn’t the case. “I tried to argue it, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.”
Suddenly, my best friend seemed less concerned about the unwanted guest, pretending to be overly interested in wiping down the counter in front of her. “So, uh, you said yes then? Does that mean you and Ronan are…”
“What? No! I mean…” I paused. Ava was my best friend. I couldn’t hide anything from her. “I don’t know. He’s really good in bed, okay? But he’s not my boyfriend or anything.”
She smirked at me, lifting a brow. “How many times have you fucked him?” I gasped. There was no way I was talking about this here.
I ignored Ava, turning my attention to Carlo. “Hey, do you want a cupcake?” I asked, raising my voice.
“No.” He shook his head once. His arms stayed crossed over his chest with him facing forward.
“Okay,” I dragged the word out and cocked my head to the side. “Well, how about a cup of coffee? You can’t just sit there.”
He looked at me from the corner of his eye like he was prepared to tell me to go fuck myself or something. “That’d be fine.”
“Cream and sugar?” I asked, though he didn’t seem the type to take his coffee very sweet. Judging by the way he scowled, I was correct. “Just black it is,” I giggled, dropping my voice to a whisper only Ava could hear. “Tough crowd.”
She giggled, and I poured a cup of fresh black coffee for Carlo. “Yeah, he seems social.” Ava walked away when the oven dinged, ignoring Carlo’s grumble.
As she disappeared to grab the fresh cupcakes before they burned, I took Carlo his coffee. I sat it in front of him, standing next to the table expectantly. He looked up at me from the corner of his eye, clearly unamused. “Yes?” he asked.
“Do you need anything else?” I asked, offering him my sweetest customer service smile—the same one I gave to elderly women or the people who looked like they would tip well. He shook his head, still not reaching for the steaming mug. “So how did he talk you into this?”
“He didn’t.” He didn’t move.
“I mean, he obviously did something!” I threw my hands in the air. There was no way this man was sitting at my bakery just because his buddy asked him to.
He scoffed. “Nope.”
“You’re not very talkative, are you?” I put my hands on my hips, making it clear I was determined to have a conversation he wasn’t wanting to have.
“Not really.” He finally reached for the cup of coffee, deciding that if he did, it might get me to walk away and leave him alone so he could scowl in peace.
I dropped my hands to my sides. “You must be a really good friend of his then if you’re willing to hang out here and keep an eye on us.” It wasn’t his scene—anyone could see that.
He started to say something, but my attention was drawn away from him to a table of two girls who had bought strawberry cupcakes a few minutes earlier. One wiped her face with a napkin. “I could almost have another one. That was the best cupcake I’ve ever had.”
“ So good. I hear the place is owned by the mafia now. Who knew they could bake?” her friend added, and both girls burst into synchronized laughter.
My heart leapt into my throat, and the sound of people talking, pans getting moved around in the back, and the light traffic outside disappeared behind a foggy filter. What did she just say? My ears started ringing, and I fought the urge to walk over and ask her.
“You’re not even listening,” Carlo said, forcing me from my stupor. I shook my head like it would clear the confusion. Owned by the mafia.
“I’m sorry. What’d you say?” I forced a smile, earning a sarcastic raised brow from him. He was less than amused, and I couldn’t wait to get away from him as quickly as possible.
“It doesn’t really matter. I’m here.” He took a drink from his mug, and I nodded, spinning on the ball of my foot and heading back toward the counter. I tried to walk slowly, but the panic that buzzed in every limb of my body made me hurry.
My pulse was pounding in my ears by the time I rounded the counter, and when the bell that hung above the door rang, I jumped. I clutched my chest, spinning around. When I stopped spinning, the room continued around me, and I stumbled, trying to catch my balance.
“Oh, thank God. It’s just you,” I said when I saw Stu standing there. He was empty handed. “I have the check for you.” I hurried to the register, hoping my hands would stop shaking in the few steps it took to get there.
“I don’t need it. I don’t have any paperwork for you.” He lifted a brow and tilted his head, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure who was more confused.
I blinked a couple of times, as if it might change the situation. It didn’t. “What’s going on?” I asked, hoping he’d fix his face and tell me why he was here without paperwork. I pulled the check I’d written from the register, slipping it between my fingers.
“Shouldn’t you know?” Stu looked at me like I’d said something stupid—almost like I was the one with all the information. “Your boyfriend owns it now.”
The pink bakery turned red, and my vision clouded. “What did you just say?”
“That man you’re dating bought the building.” Stu shrugged then whistled. “He spent a pretty penny on it too. Anyways, I don’t need that check. I just wanted to drop this off.” He handed me an extra set of keys. His keys.
“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth. It wasn’t his fault, and for the most part, he had been a pretty good landlord. My head spun.
Be careful who you take help from.
Owned by the mafia.
Your boyfriend.
There was no way Ronan was in the mafia, was there? He owned a chain of pizza shops. Wouldn’t someone in the mafia be some high-level CEO of a sanitation company or something like that? Maybe I watched too much TV.
I looked at Carlo, more curious than before how Ronan had convinced him to spend all day here. He didn’t seem to miss a beat. Surely, he heard the entire conversation and was going to repeat it all to Ronan before I got a chance. I had to get there first. “I need to go,” I said, taking my apron off. When Carlo started to move, I put up my hand. “Ava is still in the back. I’ll be back later.”