CHAPTER 5
REMMIE
A few hours later, my bakery is put back together again and I’ve switched the sign on the door to open.
I swept the flour and sugar off the kitchen floor.
Rearranged the tools around my prep space and even managed to get the dent Shade left in my wall covered with some art I moved from the dining room.
A bowl of dough proofs on the counter, getting ready to become some yummy pastries. Given the insane start to my day, I'm feeling pretty good. Until the door chime dings as someone enters.
"Hi. Welcome to Sug..." my voice falters.
I expected a customer or a certain gold demon to be standing there.
Instead, it's Dalia, owner of the Black Cat Brewhouse on the other side of Goliath Park.
A perfect, pretty pain in my ass. Forgive my language.
She swings her hips as she walks up to the counter towards me.
Like, well, a cat. Her form fitting black dress is sleek and high end, as if she's headed to the club rather than a bakery and her blood red lips pull up in an arrogant smirk as she stares me down with those shocking black eyes.
"Um. How can I help you?" I ask.
Dalia doesn't answer right away. Just thrums her bright red fingernails on the counter and starts to look around. I'm becoming more and more irritated by the second.
The first time we met, she was coming to all the small shops on this street, handing out flyers for her new business.
She was a smug bitch from the very start.
Sorry gran for my language. She was so vile, making comments like how simple the other businesses were.
And how drab my bakery was. She called me pink powderpuff and cackled as she left, swinging her hands in the air dramatically. I was happy to be rid of her.
But as quick as she came is how fast my clients stopped showing up.
The whole street seemed to stop breathing, and I was forgotten almost overnight.
Special event bookings I'd had for months started to cancel and foot traffic halted.
Almost like I wasn't even here. I ventured over to her side of town only once to spy and there was a line out the door.
I even saw past customers of mine there, enjoying her menu.
I slowly started to mentally break down. Even now, I hope I look tougher than I felt because I will not let this, this, C U Next Tuesday intimidate me.
"So. You're still here?" She sighs, disappointed.
"Yes." I growl.
She huffs.
"Any new customers come in lately?" Dalia asks, eyes roaming everywhere, never stopping to look at me.
"Just my regulars." I lie.
"Hmmm." She hums in reply.
"I’ll ask again, can I help you with something?" I lace the question with anger, hoping she gets to the point of her visit.
Again, she huffs. Her lips form a pout that I wish I had the courage to punch.
"At the moment, no. You have nothing here I would ever want. I'll be seeing you, Pinky Pie."
She winks and heads for the door. For a moment I wonder if it will toss her back too.
The thought of her being flipped over and over as she flies, landing hard on her face fills me with a sick joy.
But no, I'm not so lucky. She breezes through the doorway and back out into the world like a ghost. The light scratches on my countertop and my simmering rage are the only indicators she was even really here.