3. Serena
3
SERENA
W hy did I slap this man across the face?
Why did that kiss have to be so damn good?
My eyes widen as I realize what I’ve done. I clear my throat, not breaking his gaze as I welcome the customer who just walked through the door.
“Serena! I have been craving that fudge since Saturday. I need to buy some for my office today.”
“Oh, Tara, that’s so sweet,” I clear my throat and walk to the display case.
When I turn back around, he’s gone.
Was he ever really here? Or was I daydreaming?
“Who on Earth was that hottie?” Tara grins back at me.
Guess it wasn’t a dream.
“Some guy who.... Well wow, I don’t even know his name.”
“He’s hot and looks incredibly into you.”
“Not so much,” I laugh. “He told me I was a child and that my store was an eyesore.”
“Maybe he’s just awkward,” she giggles.
“Doubtful. More like just an ass.”
“Well, it looked like he was ready to devour you.”
I would like him to devour me. I wonder what it would feel like to have that mouth on my entire body.
“I don’t think so.”
“Your flushed face says differently,” she laughs.
“What flavors did you want?” I grin back at her, desperately needing to change the subject.
I spend the next ten minutes filling her order. I just met her on Saturday, but she’s already raving about my treats and wanting to share them with others. That’s a big deal.
So much for that jerk telling me that my shop is an eyesore.
I slide the last strip of fudge into a colorful box, stepping back to admire the vibrant colors. Tara's order is complete.
“I can’t wait to share these with everyone,” she says excitedly as she pays.
She waves and heads out the door, balancing her boxes. I wipe my hands on my apron and reach for my phone just as it starts ringing.
"Hey, Em," I answer, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear as I tidy up the counter.
"Hey, Serena. What’s with the panicked phone calls?"
“I got a letter from the landlord stating that I have thirty days to get out of the building because I didn’t conform to some amendments that I didn’t even know about. I attached a copy of the letter to the email. Did you get it?”
"Yeah, give me a second to look through it,” she answers, and I hear her tapping a pencil on her desk. “Okay, I think I figured out how the owner is getting around the grandfather clause. He's requesting changes to the property that, once approved, allow him to evict tenants under the guise of 'improvements.' It's sneaky, but it’s all there in the fine print."
I stop wiping and lean against the counter, my stomach knotting. "Are you serious? That’s how he’s been pushing people out?"
"Yeah. We can file a motion to cease and desist as the building and everything about it is sound. The issues he’s citing have to do with your branding, and he can’t force you to change that. He’s a blowhard. If we push back, I think he’ll back down easily.”
“He says I have thirty days.”
“Did this eviction get served to you?”
“No, regular mail.”
“Then there’s no proof that you received any mail regarding it. I think it’s a power play right now. If you’re not out in thirty days, he doesn’t even have the right to remove you because there’s no proof that it was delivered to you. Most people give in because they don’t know that he’s a bully.”
“Speaking of bullies,” I sigh. “This asshole came in earlier, claimed he was on the board for community improvement or some crap. Kept talking about how my shop is an eyesore and how he’s made numerous complaints."
"What was his name?" Emily asks.
"I didn’t catch his name, but he was wearing this expensive Armani suit. Couldn't stop bragging about it, too. Absolute asshole."
“Describe him to me,” she says as I hear her tapping away at the keyboard.
“Gorgeous man, dark hair, blue eyes. Doesn’t miss a day at the gym, but an absolute asshole.”
“Was it him?” she asks as she texts me a picture.
Those eyes. Those lips . “Yup, that’s the douchebag.”
"Serena, you’ve pissed off Logan Pierce."
"Who’s Logan Pierce?"
"How do you not know who he is? He’s only the most eligible bachelor in town. He's in the building next door to your shop. He’s a Fortune 500 CEO of a tech company. Built it from the ground up. Most people are terrified of him because he's kind of a tyrant. He gets shit done, and his words can make or break you."
I feel a chill run down my spine. "You mean to tell me I’ve annoyed the one person who has the power to ruin me? Mind you, I’ve done nothing wrong."
"Pretty much," Emily says with a sigh. "Serena, this is bad. Really bad. We need to figure out a way to fix this. It looks like he’s made numerous complaints about the store, too. Citing several matters. I’ll send you screenshots of the claims."
I rub my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "What do I do, Em? How do we fight someone like him?"
She is silent for a moment. "We’ll need to be smart about this. Maybe there’s a way to appeal to his business side. Or we find a loophole. But we can't just roll over. Not without a fight."
“This is ridiculous. I could seriously lose my livelihood because some guy is a douchebag?”
“He’s a very important douchebag,” she laughs. “What happened with him?”
“I was walking into the store the other day and ran into him. Spilled my coffee all over him.”
“And that’s why he’s mad?”
“Then he came into the store and was extremely rude to me.”
“And you got rude right back?”
“Yes, of course I did. He was a complete dick.”
“We don’t match that energy, remember? You get more flies with honey.”
“Something about him…”
“Is hot as hell,” she sighs before she starts giggling. “Most women fall at his feet. I bet he didn’t know how to handle you at all.”
“Seemed that way.”
Until he kissed me, and then I was putty in his hands.
“You have got to make nice with him, sis. Bring him some of your special treats or something.”
“I think it’s too late for that. He came back in today waving a peace offering, and I spilled coffee on him again. And I slapped him across the face.”
“Oh! You’re the only woman in the world who would smack that man across the face,” she laughs. “Seriously, Serena, what is wrong with you?”
“This store is my baby. It’s like he told me my child was ugly. All of this business is me, my personality, my heart, and my soul. It’s…he didn’t even ask questions. He just walked in here acting like he was better than me.”
“Well, he’s a millionaire a few times over at like twenty-six, soooooo,” she adds.
“It doesn’t make him better than me because he’s in a different tax bracket. Good for him, but none of that matters if he treats people like crap.”
“I’m not arguing that. Let me do a little digging and see if I can figure out a way to win him over.”
“Thanks, Em, I appreciate you.”
“You better. This could be the end of both of our careers.”
We hang up, and I go about my day, not sure what to make of this conversation…
The bell chimes as I close the shop for the evening, the comforting vanilla scent of my store lingering in the air. The weight of the day's stress starts to lift as I lock the door behind me. I tuck the keys into my bag and turn to leave when I see a man approaching. He’s wearing a dark suit and a long coat. His expression is unreadable as he walks up to me with a sealed envelope.
"Serena Mitchell?" he asks.
"Yes, that's me."
He hands me the envelope and walks away without another word. My heart sinks as I tear it open.
An eviction notice? Now I’m being served.
Shit.
My hands tremble as I read the words, each one a nail in the coffin of my dreams. My shop, my livelihood, my passion—being taken away just like that. I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. I can't lose it here. Not now.
I pull out my phone to call Emily, needing her calm and logical mind to help me make sense of this. As I’m about to dial, I notice a familiar figure pacing outside the building next door, phone pressed to his ear.
Logan Pierce.
This is all his fault.
Is this retaliation for slapping him across the face?
Or was I such a horrible kisser that he thought I needed to be evicted?
I quietly walk closer, not intending to eavesdrop, but his voice carries.
"I don't know the first thing about planning a four-year-old's birthday party! Why is this on me, Deirdre?"
I can see the tension in his shoulders as he runs a hand through his hair. He spots me, his eyes narrowing. He quickly ends his call, shoving his phone into his pocket. I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and lifting my head high. This is my chance.
"Mr. Pierce," I call out, stepping towards him with as much confidence as I can muster.
“Can I help you?”
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. It sounds like you're having a bit of trouble," I smile.
His eyebrows raise slightly. "And how is that any of your concern?"
I swallow hard. "Because I have a proposition for you. I'll help you plan that birthday party if you help me overturn the eviction notice for my store."
Logan stares at me, his expression unreadable. The seconds tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. I can see the wheels turning as he weighs his options and considers my offer. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for his response.
“Why on earth would I let some stranger help plan my niece’s birthday party?”
“I own a candy store,” I reply quickly. “And I double as an event planner, too.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Mr. Pierce, I’m pretty certain that you’re the reason I just received an eviction notice without the opportunity to fight or make any changes. This business is my livelihood, my lifeblood, if you will. Much like your company, I built it from the ground up. How would you feel if someone squashed all of your dreams because you spilled coffee on them?”
“You think that this is all because of coffee?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No,” he laughs as he rolls his eyes. “It goes way beyond that.”
“I apologize for our initial meetings. I would like a do-over so I can show you what my store and I have to offer. I’m not just some hole-in-the-wall business. I also know that I can plan the birthday party of your niece’s dreams, and you’ll become the hero.”
“The hero?”
“I’m assuming you have the task because you’re the favorite uncle or maybe the family member they deem as the least busy.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know family dynamics, and this isn’t my first rodeo.” I force my chin up. “Well, do we have a deal or not?”