Page 14 of Cream and Punishment
He pulled his gaze away from my shoulder, where the shirt collar had slid to expose the pasty skin underneath.
Forget my red nose—my shoulders could reflect enough light on their own. Yikes.
“Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and squinted at my nose. “Yep. It’s all gone.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”
It wasn’t the worst revenge he could exact, but it was a decent start if he wanted to ease himself into it. Let me continue the rest of our conversation with smears of white in the nooks and crannies of my schnozz, none the wiser.
He grinned, the mischievous twinkle never leaving his eyes. “Why would I do something like that?”
That was a rhetorical question, right? As if I couldn’t list five reasons off the top of my head.
When I didn’t reply, his smile softened. “You got it all, Dekker. I promise. Can I help you up now?”
I stared at his hand for a second too long before shaking myself out of it. The sooner I started tipping the karmic skills away from “indebted to Max for eternity” the better.
“I’ve got it, but thanks.” I struggled to my feet, the cracking of my knees and involuntary grunt that escaped my mouth proving just how much I did notgot it.
He watched until I stood, hovering nearby as if he might have to catch me when my legs gave out. Which was fair.
Apparently satisfied that I wouldn’t keel over, he returned to the half-finished cupcake he’d left on the counter. “These cupcake-brownie things are amazing by the way. You’ve come a long way from being an intern.”
My blood froze in my veins. If there was any doubt in my mind that he’d rememberedIwas the one who ruined his life that day, it was gone now. Ihadtold him when I met him I was an intern. I’d been joking, but how was he supposed to know I’d only been in the bakery for a job interview that somehow turned into me running a cake tasting? The truth was weirder than any lie I could’ve come up with.
Should I tell him I was never an intern there? Did it even matter? If anything, the misconception I was an intern might allow for more grace than if he knew I was supposed to actually know what I was doing. Interns were notorious for making mistakes. Someone who owned her own bakery? Not so much. Plus, whatever position I’d held—which would be none, officially—wouldn’t change the fact I’d ruined his engagement.
The last thing I wanted was to rehash that day in any way and remind him of why he hated me. But I couldn’t lie. Not just because it made my insides feel like rotten applesauce, but because I physically could not get away with lying. Like,ever.
“Yeah, about that” —I swallowed hard, focusing on the plate of cupcakes like my life depended on it— “I wasn’t really an intern. I…I didn’t even work there. Officially.”
Now it sounded like I was there for the sole purpose of ruining his life. Awesome.
“I’d interviewed to work there,” I continued, my words rushing together in a downpour. “Priscilla made me do the cake tasting because I’d apparently inconvenienced her so much she’d fallen behind schedule. I only said I was an intern because it was like an unpaid internship, but worse, and Lex was undercover, and I didn’t know how you might have known her, so I tried to play it safe and—”
“Dekker,” he interrupted when I stopped for a breath. “I already know. Priscilla told me.”
What? So I’d just rambled like an idiot for nothing? And he’d intentionally mentioned I was an intern while already knowing that wasn’t the case? Very tricky, Max. Did he want to torture me with more guilt, make me come clean myself? What was his angle?
“I’m sorry you didn’t get the job,” he added. “For the record, though, I think you dodged a bullet. You should have your own place, not be sidelined as one of Priscilla’s little worker bees.”
Did he already know about my bakery back in Pennsylvania, too? He’d probably run a background check on me as soon as he’d learned my name. And when had that been? When he’d talked to Priscilla? Lex’s engagement party where I’d run out ten minutes into it when I couldn’t avoid him anymore? Or some other time? How long had he known everything about me, just waiting to take his revenge?
Having someone else remind me of my stagnancy and supreme lameness only rubbed salt in the wound Lex had opened earlier. On the slim chance he didn’t already know about my bakery, I wasn’t about to provide him with more ammunition. He’d probably read Besserman’s article and knew all about my failure as a baker, too. And what better dig could he get at me than to remind me of it?
Well done, Max. Well done.
I bristled, holding the plate out for him. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again for your help.”
His brows furrowed as he hesitantly accepted the plate.That’s right, buddy. I caught on to your plan. You’re going to have to try harder next time.
“Did—”
His words got cut short by a knock on my door. Hallelujah! That must be Lex here to pick up her cupcakes and provide me with a convenient reason to kick Max out before he could wage more psychological warfare.
I flashed him a smile that more closely resembled a grimace and weaved through the debris to my door. Sure enough, Lex stood on the other side, her dark curls wet and plastered flat against her head and shoulders. Raindrops glistened on her face and jacket, her green eyes bright as she grinned at me.
“You’re still awake! I was afraid I’d have to kick the door in after all.” She paused as I waved her in, taking in the room with a low whistle. “Wow. It looks like a library threw up in here.”
