Page 8 of Be Mine

“Have you ever spoke to Noah?” I ask her as I struggle to box the giant pull-away cupcake creation. Taylor helps me by holding the box in place as I ease the board in, careful not to bump the sides and ruin my hard work.

“The butcher?” she asks as she takes the top lid and secures it for me while I walk to the opposite side to print a label.

“Yeah,” I say, slapping the price tag to the side and carrying the oversized box to the cooler.

“He talks?” She laughs.

“Not much. He uttered two words to me when I went to get the containers for Cynthia,” I state, wiping my table with a rag before arranging a dozen grab-and-go cupcakes containers across the top.

“Well, he definitely isn’t known around here for his conversational skills.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“He is hot as fuck, though; I wouldn’t mind spending some quiet time with him.” She smiles, and the innuendo isn’t lost on me. I slap at her playfully, but I can’t deny my mind didn’t go there a time or two today, as well, despite his standoffish attitude.

“Is that what had you so upset?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s been a weird day from the start, but I had an odd encounter with him at lunch… then just now. I don’t know. I’ve never had a problem with him before, and he's been here for a few years, but today has been different.” I loadthe cupcakes into the containers, fixing my piping bag with a star tip and filling it with vanilla icing.

Taylor moves back to her station to start the end of the day clean-up while I swirl icing on top of each cupcake. “Different how?”

I pause, trying to think of how to articulate why today is so distinct. “It’s like it’s the first time he’s acknowledged me, but it doesn’t feel like it was in a good way, you know? It was like my presence angered him. Anytime we’ve crossed paths in the past, we’ve just walked past each other, heads down, like neither of us existed to the other. But today? It’s like he was royally pissed I had the gall to be in the same vicinity. It's just been very strange, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

Noah has always been just around the edges, here but not. He showed up, did his job, and left. He didn’t engage in any out of work activities. He didn’t come to Christmas parties or family picnics, and hey, I get it. I’m not the most social person, either. Honestly, I didn’t even give it that much thought besides the odd time he would come up in conversation because every woman here practically melts when they see him.

“That is odd. Maybe he has a thing for you, but it's like some bully romance where he’s fighting it. So it comes out all aggressive, but he ends up being this super obsessed, overprotective guy who would burn the world down for you.”

I laugh out loud, ‘cause this girl. “Ok, you’re delusional and need to stop reading so much smut. This is the real world. Guys don’t behave like that. If he acts like he doesn’t like you, it means he doesn’t.”

“Hey, with the way the dating pool has been lately, I would rather live in my land of delulu.” Taylor shrugs as she carries her baking sheets to the sink to be washed.

Somehow, I managed to get everything done by the end of my shift, including extras for the evening staff, just in case. Stations are clean, dishes are done, and the rest? Not my problem. It’s my weekend off.

“What are you doing tonight?” Taylor asks as we hide out near the schedule, away from prying eyes that could catch us standing around.

“Nothing,” I absentmindedly pick at the skin around my nail. I should tell her that I’m not staying at my apartment tonight because some psychopath sent me a fucking heart in a box this morning, and until the police catch the perpetrator or confirm it was some cruel joke, I get to stay at some ratty ass motel. But something is holding me back from saying the words out loud.

“Some bands playing at Threshold tonight. It’s free cover charge for women.Andit’s half-price drinks all night. You wanna go?” She looks at me, hopeful.

“I don’t know, Tay; I’ve had a shit day. I don’t think I’m really in the mood.”

“Even more reason to come. Cheap drinks, hot band members…” she trails off like she thinks that’s all it takes to bait me. Yes, I am a sucker for alt guys, rockers, anything that screamsI’m bad news and you probably shouldn’t take me home to meet your mom. Maybe it’s some deep-rooted childhood trauma that makes me choose guys who are walking red flags. Like a bigeffyou to my parents.

“I’ll think about it,” I say to placate her.

She flashes me that megawatt smile and claps enthusiastically, “Good, if you want, we can get ready at my place and take an Uber over, that way we don’t have to worry about a designated driver.”

There’s suddenly a bunch of commotion and I peek around the corner to watch as managers from each departmentrun towards the back of the building. Shortly after, Blair hurriedly guides a group of paramedics and firefighters through the traffic doors, stretcher and medical equipment in tow.

“What’s going on?” I look back at Taylor, confused.

“I have no clue.” She’s just as perplexed.

Customers have all but abandoned their shopping, each one stopped in the aisles trying to peer through the swinging flap doors.

“I’m going to check it out,” I whisper.

I sneak through the narrow passage between our cooler and cabinets, and through the small door that connects bakery to the back. The paramedics and firefighters are all huddled around the baler. The firefighters are working together to open it while the medics are on standby. All of the managers stand idle, each one looking white as a ghost. Cynthia has her arms wrapped around herself, like she’s trying to hold it together.

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