Page 5 of Room One Hundred and Twenty

From promising to cover the cost of moving my business over city lines to covering living expenses, I have to agree with the sender.

Thisdoessound too good to be true. Only someone who knows how tight of a spot I’m in would offer such things in hopes of getting me worked up. They think they can trick me.

Setting my phone down, I don’t finish reading. Not yet. Even with the buzz of wine in my system, I can’t laugh. Rather, I’m feeling more agitated. Mad at the world and at how cruel it can be at times. Already on the ground, life just wants to kick me in the stomach at this point.

If this were something authentic, then yes, I’d scream from the top of this apartment how badly I want this deal.

Looking back at the screen, I look over the contents once more. At the end, the email is signed withJake McCoy.A fake name if I have to guess.

“Okay, Jake. I won’t ignore you.” Frowning, I type away my response.

You weren’t kidding about your offer sounding too good to be true. You’ve caught my interest. However, if you want me to even consider your offer, I want to meet in person to talk this over. Maybe I’ll even offer you a cupcake for your troubles.

Sending the message, I snort. I’ll give him a cupcake free of charge. If he has the audacity to show up in my bakery talking such nonsense, then I’ll shove it in his face.

Where I’m at right now, I can’t possibly ruin my reputation any more than it already is. It’ll show everyone else to not pull a similar stunt.

Finishing my glass with a huff, I’m surprised how quickly I get a response. Hardly but five minutes.

Tomorrow then. I look forward to speaking to you in person. I’ll hold you to that cupcake.

Jake McCoy. What a crock.

Snatching the bottle, I decide to take it to the living room. Turns out, I do need a movie.

Thinking nothing of this email, I put it to the back of my mind.

Trolls are nothing when they aren’t hiding behind a screen. Nothing will come out of this, I’m sure about that much.

* * *

When the door opens and the small bell rings, I’m automatic with my greeting. However, seeing a rather handsome man stroll in doting half a suit, I know he’s special. Not a tourist, but someone not from around here. My perfect sort of customer nowadays.

Men like this don’t casually roam the streets, nor do they crave sweets. Maybe he saw the discount sign and felt a little itch to taste something sweet. Either way, I’m ready to give this man whatever he wants. Maybe I can talk him into getting a few items.

Missing a jacket to match his slacks, I take notice of the way his sleeves are rolled up his forearms. His shoes tap with each step as he makes his way straight in my direction. Looking my way, his stare is set. Almost like he’s here for me instead of my sweets, I get a little tingle in the pit of my stomach.

I’m getting an itch to taste something right about now. This man looks delicious. Hell, I’m tempted to call up Charity so she can witness such a sight as well. I feel a tad bit greedy keeping him all to myself. What a rare sighting.

I’m able to get a better look at him when he stops in front of the counter. Those green eyes look quite warm on this summer day. From the way his sand-colored hair is swept, I can bet the wind is picking up today. Normally, I wouldn’t take in a customer this way, but even I can tell there’s something special about this man.

“Eloise Tanner?” When he lowers his gaze and takes me in as well, my heart thuds.

For once, I’m embarrassed by the flour coating my apron. After opening the bakery by myself, I had to quickly get the display cabinet full for my morning regulars. By the time Charity came in, the worst of it was over.

Will he notice if I try to swipe away the crust against my stomach?

Realizing he’s waiting for an answer, I nod my head.

“Jake McCoy.” He offers a hand to shake, his smile hitting me like a punch to the gut. “We were just emailing yesterday.”

Lips parting, I look at his hand. Doting a ring on his finger, I’d hardly consider it a wedding band. If anything, it matches the watch wrapped around his wrist. Two seconds later, I register what words have come out of his mouth.Jake McCoy. Not even after finishing that bottle of wine had I forgotten that name.

This man is authentic. He isn’t some snot-nosed kid fucking with me. He’s right here, breathing and existing.

Fuck, then does that mean the offer he gave was just as authentic? I wish I could reread through the thread of messages to remember how unrealistic his offer was. I remembered laughing once my rage simmered down.

He promised a new start. A real new start.Fuck.

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