Page 5 of Cream and Punishment
I’d been naive enough to think I’d never have to run into him again, that he’d never learn who I was and track me down for retribution. I could go on with the rest of my life with only the cringey memory of the whole ordeal to keep me up at night. Easy breezy.
The Powers That Be had to be having a good laugh right now. They must’ve laughed all night while I tossed and turned, and kept laughing while I stress-ordered a dino chicken nugget throw pillow online. And I’m sure their laughter never died down when I overslept yetstilltook the time to peek through the peephole before sneaking past his door on the way to work.
I hope the Powers That Be got cramps.
I didn’t relax until I got to My Batter Half Bakery this morning. The only sanctuary I had left.
As the familiar scent of sugar and cinnamon blanketed me, I sighed with relief. I didn’t linger in it, though, since the bakery depended on me to get the prepped sweets into the oven and done before we opened. It was within this hour or so I felt the most at home. The peaceful stillness when the world was still sleeping, and the sky was touched with the gray of pre-dawn. Where nothing else existed besides me and what I could create.
I fell easily into a rhythm as I took the pans of cinnamon rolls and croissants out of the walk-in fridge. The tension from the past day or so melted away with the churning of dough, the bite of oil as donuts fried, the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked scones.
The cashiers and baristas arrived sometime in the middle of the blur of activity. The sharp punch of ground coffee beans drifted into the kitchen from the front. My stomach grumbled.
Gale, the owner, arrived shortly before opening. She greeted me with a smile on her weathered face as she always did. I returned it and asked how she was doing, which she didn’t seem to hear. The question hung awkwardly in the air between us. As it always did.
Though, to be fair, most everything I did left a residue of awkwardness. It’s a skill.
Gale joined the front of house staff and soon their laughter carried over the clangs and whirring of their preparations. I stamped out the spark of envy that ignited and turned the volume on my earbud up until the sounds of REO Speedwagon drowned everything out.
“You gave up the right to be in charge of your duties when you sold your bakery,” I muttered under my breath. A reminder I’d needed to repeat more frequently as of late. “You’ve been assigned to the back. You like it here. Even if you do the work of three people without a pay increase to show for it. Remember the last time you handled the customer service side of things?”
I cringed at the memory. With Max as my new neighbor, it tasted especially bitter.
The rest of my shift passed in a whirlwind. I’d just started frosting a dozen cupcakes when my earbud rang with an incoming call from my favorite person in the world.
“Hey, Lex!” I answered, wiping my hands on my apron. “What’s up?”
My sister skipped all the pleasantries. “Did youmoveyesterday? Most of your stuff is gone and you never came home last night.”
Guilt squirmed in my gut. Was she mad at me? “Well, yeah. Your wedding is only a month away now, and I can’t keep mooching off of you.”
“Mooching? Dekker, you paid half the rent, which I never asked you to do in the first place.”
I stilled. “Oh, no, did I totally mess up your budget now? I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
“What? No. Just—” She took a steadying breath. “Why didn’t you wait until I could at leasthelpyoumove? And where did you move to?”
“The same building as Max, apparently,” I mumbled.
Too late, I realized my mistake.
A couple beats of silence resounded over the line, punctuated only by the spray of water as I rinsed the dishes. Then, Lexlaughed.
Yep. My sister. My own flesh and blood. The one who should have my back and be concerned for my wellbeing—which was clearly at risk living so close to the man whose life I’d wrecked—laughed.
“This isn’t funny,” I grumbled, shooting her a glare that had zero effect.
Even if she could see it, she wouldn’t be cowed. After all, she investigated criminals for a living. The only investigating I did was sniffing my week-old leftovers to see if they’d give me food poisoning.
“Max? The same guy you left my engagement party early just to avoid, lives in the same building now?” Another guffaw escaped. “That’s too good.”
“Next door, actually. But sure, mock my pain.”
“He lives right next to you?” She crowed with laughter for a good ten seconds. “Sorry” —she didn’t sound the least bit sorry— “I know you’re convinced he hates you for some reason, but I just don’t see it.”
“He couldn’t even look at me for more than a second yesterday, Lex. You weren’t there. He was itching to get away from me as soon as possible.”
“Okay, I’ll admit that’s a little odd for Max,” she allowed, “but I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be. And even if hedidhate you, this is karma.”
