Page 21 of The Biker & the Baker

As he spoke, Albert mentally congratulated himself for sharing with Lawrence bits and pieces from his past; the timing proved to be perfect. He really didn’t want their first Christmas together to be shadowed by secrets and half-truths, even if they didn’t influence their relationship in any way. At that point, his phone buzzed again, and, just like earlier, he decided to ignore the call.

Albert and Lawrence finished eating, cleaned the table, washed the dishes, hugged each other and shared a passionate kiss before parting ways, each of them driving his own car. Afteronly a couple of yards, the baker let out a long, exasperated sigh at the buzz of his phone. This is one persistent person, he thought, somewhat irritated, as he put the earpiece on and answered.

“Hello and good morning, Albert Finkel here, how can I help you?” The man started in a polite voice he used when talking to potential clients.

“It took you a while to answer the goddamn phone.” Rick croaked from the other end of the line. “Or were you still sleeping?”

Chills ran down Albert’s spine at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice, but it was just for a moment. “My private life is none of your business. What do you want? Make it quick, I’m a busy man, have no time for your crap.”

“Oh, nothing special, just wanted to wish you a very Merry Christmas.” Rick’s answer came in a sickening sweet voice. “I really, really hope you’ll enjoy the holiday season.”

“And I really, really hope you rot in hell, where a crazy son of a bitch like you belongs.” Albert replied in an acid voice, then ended the call.

Motherfucker, Albert muttered, not letting the phone call ruin his mood. It was still dark outside, and the Christmas lights were still on, the porches and windows of some of the houses and businesses shining invitingly. Although there were still two more weeks until the most important holiday of the year, the lights and decorations already covered the whole town with a festive atmosphere.

Albert smiled when he recalled the joy on the faces of his children and employees when they decorated the bakery and cake shop, a few days earlier. Almost all the ornaments they used were made by the kids from the arts and crafts class, and that made the pleasant activity even more special and meaningful.

Suddenly, the conversation from earlier popped into Albert's mind, making him wonder what did his ex think he was going to gain from it. He couldn’t blackmail him with harming Brei-Ayn or the children, because they were as safe as they could be, but the so-called Christmas wish sounded ominous, like the biker was already up to something he was sure would make his former victim suffer.

Albert was about to pull the car over in the small parking lot across the new bakery, when an incoming message made him change his mind. It was from Miss Pat, who had a set of spare keys, because she almost always was the first who came to work. Even without reading it, the man knew something very bad must've happened to make her text him.

Boss, will you please come here first? There was nothing wrong with the short text, but Albert knew Miss Pat by now: she wouldn’t have bothered him if it wasn’t something extremely important. Instead of climbing out of the car, he started the engine again, heading straight to the operating bakery. The ride only took a few minutes, but it seemed years-long, and all the way, the man thought about the conversation with his ex from earlier.

Now, there was no doubt in Albert’s mind that whatever made Miss Pat message him was something that would have a devastating impact on him and that, one way or another, Rick was behind it. His suspicions were partially confirmed when he saw a large crowd gathered in front of the bakery, and the town police’s car parked nearby.

Albert stepped out of the car as quick as he could and, heart racing in his chest, voice thick with emotion and shaky, asked the people to move aside, so he could get into the building. His request was met with understanding and sympathy, so he was in the doorway in no time, but the sight made him stare incredulously.

The window was smashed into tiny shards scattered all around the floor, soiled with what used to be muffins, cupcakes, puff pastries, croissants, tarts, pies, and cakes, mixed together in an unrecognizable mush. What was left of the counters and shelf, as well as the walls, was also covered in the same sticky mess.

Something broke inside Albert, who fell on his knees there, in the doorway, and buried his face in both hands, letting the tears fall from his eyes and stream down his cheeks. A long, loud, almost animalistic howl of despair tore through his chest, making Miss Pat and the few other people in the bakery look at him with concern and worry.

In those moments, Albert didn’t give a damn about what the others may think; he felt like he was cut open and left to bleed and die in pain. His life was ended, everything hebuilt over the past five months, all his dreams and hopes were reduced to nothing then and there, in front of his eyes. The man felt his very soul was broken into tiny pieces and turned into a mush.

As he was kneeling there, on the tile floor, surrounded by shards, pieces of broken furniture, and ruined bakery products, eyes closed, Albert heard sounds of steps coming closer to where he was. He raised his head, instantly knowing who those surrounding him were: Brei-Ayn, Chad, Monica, Lawrence, Leon, and all the people who helped him one way or another.

I failed them, Albert thought, tears starting to slide down his pale cheeks again. They invested time, effort, hope, and faith in me and my projects, and I let them down, he continued his internal monologue, lips pursed in a grimace of disappointment. Rick was right, I’m a failure, and I failed you guys, too. Caught in his dark thoughts as he was, the man didn’t realize he spoke his last part aloud.

“No.” Lawrence’s voice, soft, but determination-filled at the same time, made the kneeling man open his eyes. “You are an intelligent man, who works hard achieving his goals and managed to make his dreams come true, not once, but twice.”

“How can you say that?” Albert asked in a pain-filled voice. “How can you say this is a dream come true?” He gestured around. “This is rather my worst nightmare come to life.” The man was on the brink of crying again.

“Digger is right.” Miss Pat gently touched her boss’s arm. “You gave me a new start in life, saw me as still worthy of asecond chance, and did the same to Anna.” She used the pad of her thumb to wipe the tears off the man’s cheek.

“Yes, boss.” It was Stacy’s turn to talk. “You gave me, Billy Bob, and Steve the possibility to work for a professional baker, a big-hearted guy who taught us a lot of valuable lessons.” She thought for a moment, then continued. “We have ten days until the fair and nineteen till Christmas Eve. There’s plenty of time to catch up, if we work on Saturdays, too.”

Bianca took a step ahead and stopped in front of the man. “Since we mostly need holiday-themed cookies, croissants, and other products simple to make, the older children from the cookie-decorating group can make an important contribution to the success of the stand. I think they would be more than happy to help, it would make them feel useful.”

“First things first, you people need a new window, and everything has to be sparkling clean and the walls repainted.” Leon spoke in his usual, calm voice. “I already messaged a guy I know, and he’s on the way with the window.” He shook his head, smiling. “There’s a real Christmas miracle they had this size in stock.”

CHAPTER 17

“Speaking of Christmas miracles, I saved the best for last.” Nicole Osborne, the chief of The Base town police said, coming from the back. “The perpetrators didn’t manage to get into the back rooms, so the products on stock are untouched.” She smiled. “Using sliding panels instead of a classic door design is an ingenious, and, in this particular case, also a lifesaving solution.”

“Say what?” Albert stared at the woman, disbelief written all over his face. “But that’s…those are the orders of cakes, pies, and cupcakes that were supposed to be delivered to the clients this morning.” His voice was filled with gratitude when he continued. “It was Leon’s idea, for aesthetic reasons.”

“We can still do the deliveries, with a minimum delay.” Leon’s voice was that of a man with a plan. “I’ll message Dunstan to send a few of the pick-up trucks here, and, as soon as they’re loaded, the guys will be on their way.” He reflected for a moment. “We’ll need the address and the amount of products to be delivered for each client.”

“R-right away,” Albert stuttered, scrambling to his feet and going in the back, where he arranged a tiny office next to the supply room. “Here you are,” he returned a few seconds later, giving the list to Leon. “Hey, Night, you’re here!” With these words, the man threw himself into the librarian’s open arms.

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