11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Nellie
W hen I heard the bell ring, I hurried to the front of the shop with butterflies racing toward my throat. I wasn’t sure who I was expecting to see standing at the counter, but it wasn’t Stu. I swallowed the disappointment when I realized I wouldn’t be selling cupcakes to a man who had a sudden interest in sweets.
“Oh hi, Stu,” I said, wiping my hands free of flour and frosting that wasn’t on them to begin with. Could he see them shaking? When I couldn’t decide what to do with them, I shoved them in the pockets on the front of my apron.
“Nellie.” He just sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not here with good news.”
My stomach sank, and the breath rushed from my lungs. It was like he’d punched me. “I still have nineteen days.” My voice was airy and dripping with desperation.
“There’s someone interested in buying the building,” he said sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”
Suddenly, it was like the rest of the room faded into a pink blur. I couldn’t hear the whir of the mixers Ava had running in the back, and when a timer dinged, it sounded like it came from outside of the building. “Buying?” I blinked back the tears that started to sting against my bottom eyelid. “So there’s nothing I can do?”
Stu shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” He looked sympathetic, but he shrugged. He was selling the building. This didn’t affect him like it did me. “Not unless you want to buy it.” When he laughed, my eyes narrowed. He had to be joking.
“Buy it?” I closed my mouth, quickly scanning the mostly empty bakery that had become my home. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“If you can get the downpayment, I’ll sell it to you instead.” Did he have any idea how impossible that felt? I was struggling to scrape together enough rent to get above water, and now, I needed a downpayment no bank would ever approve me for.
“In nineteen days…”
He nodded. “Like I said, I’m sorry, Nellie. I know this isn’t what you were hoping for.”
I bit my tongue until it stung to stop myself from telling him that was obvious. There was no way I was hoping to lose my bakery with no chance of being able to keep it. Instead, I rolled my eyes. “Yeah,” I said.
Stu sighed, bowing his head for a moment. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, tapping the counter. The sympathetic look returned before he turned to leave, and Ronan’s voice repeated offers to help in my mind. I wasn’t going to take it.
The sound of the lock on the bakery door echoed in my mind while I walked down the dimly lit street toward my apartment. It had sounded so final—like a countdown that led to something disastrous. I wiped the fresh stream of tears from my cheeks and flipped the key over in my pocket, gripping it in my fist when I turned the dark corner next to the strip club.
It was rarely busy, but sometimes, there were shady people smoking in the shadows. I breathed a sigh of relief when the street was empty, and I passed by the faded wood door quickly. It opened behind me, and I held onto the key tighter. When steps got louder, I picked up my pace.
My heart pounded against my chest when the steps behind me matched my stride and got closer. I felt dizzy when I could hear his breathing, and I tried to remember anything I had learned in the self-defense classes I had taken. Everything I learned had disappeared, and all I could think to do was run, but before I could, a heavy hand closed over my shoulder. I shrieked, whipping around and pulling the key from my pocket.
“Woah, woah, Nellie. It’s just me.” Ronan? I blinked, as if trying to see his face more clearly. I recognized his dark eyes and the dimples in his cheeks almost immediately, even in the shadow cast by the weak streetlights.
“You scared me,” I gasped, gripping my chest.
Ronan chuckled, putting his other hand on my shoulder and directing me to look at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Are you following me?” I looked around, trying to place where he was coming from. The street was mostly empty, apart from a couple of shops that had been closed for hours and the strip club. I couldn’t imagine Ronan was the type to spend much time at The Full Spread.
Ronan shook his head, scanning my face until I felt the urge to look away, and I looked at the sidewalk. “What’s wrong?” he asked, ignoring the question I had asked him first.
“What?” I looked up, catching the reflection of the streetlight off his stare. I swallowed the nervous butterflies that fluttered in my throat.
“You’ve been crying,” he said, brushing his thumb over my likely still damp cheek. “Why?”
I sighed. “The landlord found a buyer. I’m out.” I sniffled, feeling the warm flood of tears in my eyes returning quicker than I could blink.
“You’re out?” Ronan narrowed his eyes, still holding my face in his hand. I didn’t fight it.
I nodded. “Unless I can miraculously come up with a downpayment to buy the place myself, I’m out. I have nineteen days.”
“Fuck,” he half-whispered. “Nellie, let me help you. I can give you that money. It’s…” he hesitated. “I can afford it. Please.”
“I don’t want your money.” He was the last person I wanted to take money from. I still couldn’t figure out why Ronan was spending so much time around me, or why it seemed like he was following me. What did he want? I didn’t want to find out.
His jaw flexed when he gritted his teeth. “I just want to help you. You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I’ve always done it on my own,” I snapped, and he pursed his lips. “I’ve been on my own a long time, Ronan, and I’ve made it this far. I’ll do this on my own too. I don’t need your handouts.”
Ronan grumbled, closing his eyes briefly. I watched his face roll through different emotions, starting with frustration and ending with what looked a lot like hope. “Fine,” he finally said, dropping his hold on my face. “Then let me hire you.”
“Hire me?” He had to be kidding. “Hire me for what? To work for you?”
He laughed, and the sound echoed off the brick buildings uninterrupted by the lack of traffic. “Not to work for me.” He smiled, and I couldn’t resist the small tug at my own lips when he laughed again. What was so funny? “My parents’ anniversary is coming up, and we’re having a big party for them. We need dessert.”
“How big of a party are we talking about?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “And when?”
“Next weekend.” He smiled bigger the more I narrowed my eyes. “There will be a little over two hundred people. I’d need cupcakes, and maybe macarons, for three hundred.” Macarons. He liked them.
“ Three hundred?” I covered my mouth when I heard my voice echo, lowering my voice before I said it again. “Three hundred? That’s a lot of people.”
He nodded, half-shrugging. “It is. I’d pay you well if you want it.”
I thought about it for a moment. Getting three hundred cupcakes and three hundred macarons made in a week felt like an impossible task—but one that would put more money in my pocket than I could get any other way. I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and trying not to shake.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” When I agreed, he grinned, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me. He hugged me like I was doing him a favor—and like he didn’t want to let go. It felt natural when my arms folded around him, and when he squeezed tighter, a warmth filled me.
When Ronan let go of me, he stood there staring. “Thank you,” he said. “Now, where were you headed?” He looked around the mostly abandoned street, suddenly as suspicious as I was when he first stopped me.
“Home.” I pointed over my shoulder toward the end of the block and my apartment. “I live just up the street.”
“I’ll walk you.” He stepped next to me, starting to walk in the direction I was headed, as if he knew exactly where he was going. I debated telling him I didn’t need an escort, but my heart was still pounding in my throat from the way he’d stopped me. I guess I didn’t mind having someone to walk with.
“Thank you.” I smiled up at him, tucking my hands in my pockets and leading him up the street to my apartment on the corner.
We walked in silence, listening to the cars on neighboring streets and the shuffle of our feet against the cement. Every few steps, Ronan would look down at me from the corner of his eyes. I could feel him staring, but when I looked up at him, he’d look away without saying a word. Every time he did, I’d look down, watching my feet.
I kicked a rock out of the way when we got closer to the end of the street, coming to a stop. “This is me,” I said, pointing behind me at the building. “I’ll, uh, reach out to you tomorrow about the party?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “I’ll talk to you then.”
I nodded, making my way up the stairs and into the building. Ronan didn’t move from his spot on the sidewalk until I was inside. I met his gaze when I looked through the window, locking the door to the building behind me. I stood there for a moment until he turned and started walking back down the street. I sighed.
I just want to help you. You don’t have to do it alone.