Page 1 of Merciful Lies

CHAPTER ONE-ANNA

It’s New Year’s Eve. I can’t believe it.

The last night of another long, boring year where I can’t manage to make ends meet and I’m stuck in the same rut as always.

Shit.

I hate feeling this way. The old clock makes a constant ticking noise from where it hangs on the office wall, and I frown at the dingy beige color.

When was the last time we painted?

“Anna, you have payroll? Or are you late again?” Javi asks, walking into my office without knocking.

This guy. Ugh.

I knew it was going to be different after Dad died. But five years have passed and neither of the two crews of bakers working for us treated me with anything even close to respect.

Sammy is supposed to help. He found Javi to run the crews, but with him came a huge bump in their pay and things are worse than ever.

“I told you I got it, Javi. Gimme a second.” I look down, counting out the envelopes for his two seven-man crews.

He’s the leader, so his cut is bigger, then it’s up to him to divvy out cash to his men. He has a second guy who takes care of the other shift.

They are both the newest but have the most clout. The old bakers do as they are told. They were always hard workers and kind.

These guys though, they are not nice. Javi is always asking for more money and he is never satisfied with my efforts to placate him.

Bread is a cash business. Always has been.

That’s probably why Dad got into trouble so often with loan sharks and bookies. My brother Sammy takes after him, and I can’t help but worry.

I’m nine years older than Sammy. He’s twenty-two to my thirty-one, and absolutely no help at all running the family business.

Delilah’s Bakery has been around for sixty years. There’s no Delilah in my family, but that was the name of the old woman my grandfather, the first Samuel Keller, bought it from fifty years ago.

Me and my brother are the third generation of Kellers to run this thing, and honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can do it.

“Anna,” Javi calls my name again, and I can tell he’s getting annoyed.

“Here,” I snap, handing him a stack of envelopes. “I’ll leave the rest on the desk before I go for the night.”

“No problem, Anna. You do that.”

He makes me uncomfortable, but I ignore it and I finish what I am doing.

I pack up my purse and shrug into my raggedy winter coat. Christmas came and went, and with it all the good feelings associated with the season.

I hate winter. New Jersey isn’t terribly cold yet. But it’s gray. And it’s wet.

And I wish it was summer.

I wave goodbye to the rest of the bakers as I walk through the storefront and switch off lights, locking the door behind me.

The apartment I rent is a few blocks away, and I hustle through the damp streets, bracing myself for the icy breeze and the rush of people.

“Oops, excuse me. Happy New Year!”

A beautiful half-dressed woman flashes me a brilliant smile as she races to catch the Uber that’s double parked

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