Page 118 of Never Let You Go

My mouth drops open as I look around to see if anyone heard us.

She laughs. “Bambi! What’s with the deer in headlights look?” She chuckles at her own joke.

“Christopher asked me to—” Shit. I do say his name a special way. She’s going to make fun of me again.

“What’d he ask you to do?” She rolls her eyes. “In the bakery.”

I huff. “Brioche dough. Three kilograms. Or was it five? Darn.”

“Three sounds right. You already did this on your own?”

I shake my head.

“Here are the proportions,” she says, handing me a laminated sheet she fishes from somewhere. “Make sure the milk is lukewarm, not hot. Anything else, you’ll have to ask Christopher,” she ends on a chuckle. “It’s pretty straightforward, but good luck anyway.”

I glance at the thing and get to work. It doesn’t sound too complicated. Once all my ingredients are in the giant mixing bowl that stands directly on the floor, I attach the correct hook (I think), set the machine at low speed, and the timer on thirty minutes. I look over it for a few beats, but nothing happens. I speed it up. Now we’re talking.

While the dough kneads, I clean my workstation then decide it’s time to go for a coffee break. On my way out, I check on the dough. It’s nice and bubbly, almost to the surface of the bowl.

Wow. Really proud of myself, now.

I’m not yet halfway through my coffee when I hear shrieking coming from the bakehouse. “Oh my god! What’s going on?” Uninterested in other people’s drama, I close my eyes and enjoy a few moments of bliss.

“Alex! Alex!”

I guess they need my help. It’s good to feel useful, I realize. There’s a problem in the bakehouse, and they’re counting on me as well to help. My spirits up, I down the rest of my coffee and head back to the bakehouse.

Kiara and Willow are standing a few feet back from the mixing bowl, mouths wide open, hands on their hips. Isaac is scratching his head, looking at me with what looks like pity.

A bubbly, grayish liquid pours from the mixing bowl to the ground and seems to crawl everywhere. It’s thick yet nimble, like a creature from outer space.

“What the f—” Christopher booms as he enters from the bakery. “Somebody stop the fucking thing!”

Willow backs up two steps as the alien-like mixture reaches for her feet. Kiara follows suit. They both look at me. I scurry and lean over to hit the stop button, but I can’t reach it, so I step bravely into the muck. As I’m about to reach the control panel, I lose my footing and slip. I try to hold on to the edge of the overflowing bowl, but my hand slips, and I land hard on the floor.

Sharp pain sears through me, then embarrassment, as I try and fail to get up, my limbs uncooperative, my feet slipping through the yucky, thick liquid. My left arm is instantly numb, and I feel like a cartoon character as I see stars dance around me.

“Are you okay?” Willow says, her eyes wide on me, teetering between concern and amusement.

Am I okay? I’m broke, I lost my job, I lost my apartment, I lost the joke of a family I had, I’m sitting in a pool of sticky muck that smells like warm beer, and I can’t move my left arm.

And the man who’s making me reconsider everything I thought I knew about men acted like a jerk after making crazy love to me yesterday. Granted, he apologized, and we made up.

And then this morning, he introduced me as his girl. Okay, to a cow. But still.

All this is A. Lot.

My body starts to tremble, my chin wobbles, and tears stream down my cheeks as I look at the mess I am. I try pushing on my feet, but they just slip miserably on the floor.

Willow bravely steps in the muck, reaches under my arms, and tries to pull me out. But she ends up falling over me, and insanity takes over as I laugh uncontrollably.

She’s clutching at me, trying to pull me to dry ground, but as my hysteria takes over me, she pauses and says, “Are you laughing or are you crying?”

“I don’t knooooow,” I wail softly.

“Holy fucking shit, Bambi, you’re a mess.”

“Everyone back to work,” Christopher’s voice booms. Willow crawls back to dry ground, Isaac moves away, but Kiara stays put, hands on her hips.

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