Page 53 of Between Love and Loathing
“Myfakeboyfriend is rude.”
“Because I left a few people at the club early?” I scoffed.
“No. You’re rude all the time. You’re rude about my bakery too. You have Rita just run over all my ideas.” She waved wildly around, getting animated now. “And I’m so sick of it. And I’m sick of her emails signed as the ‘head interior designer’ and her—”
“Are we listing off everything you’re angry about right now?” I lifted a brow as I tried to hold back a laugh.
Under the streetlights, away from the crowds, and with the cool ocean air whipping through her hair, Clara tipsy and crabby was extremely flawed. She wobbled in those heels, one tendril of her dark-red hair was low on her forehead, and her green eyes sparkled with a little extra fire. Flawed so perfectly for me that she was flawless.
If I could have built a building of her curves, drawn her into a blueprint, designed her into some structure, I would have. “What’s wrong with the designer, little fighter?”
“She just changes everything last minute.”
“She has a right to do that, Clara. She’s invested in the opening of this bakery.”
Damn, I nearly felt the blood rise to her cheeks, I felt the wave of fury flow through her to me. She wasn’t just Clara anymore, she was Clara with fire, with a vengeance.
“I really hate that you’re standing here on these cobbled stone streets that are supposed to be beautiful, shrouded in late-night fog. I read this romance novel once and they had such an epic kissing moment in just the same place. Instead, I’m with you, telling me your designer needs to be listened to even though she has no actual stake in the business but her paycheck.”
Her eyes widened, blazing green in fury and, fuck, I loved to see it.
I’d make this woman hate me over and over just to see her unleash that beautiful fire on me any day.
I didn’t indulge much, but I was starting to find I was going to indulge with her over and over.
CLARA
Yup, I’d just said that and then slapped my hand over my mouth.
“She gets paid very well, Clara. For a job that she takes pride in.” I swear he was egging me on in his stupid perfect suit saying all the logical things that weren’t supposed to be logical at all. Didn’t he know that I took pride in my freaking bakery too?
I looked down and stepped up on the curb so I could face him head-on.
No one deserved to stand over me now, not when it came to my business, and I was going to meet him at his level, his height, and tell him so. Even if I was still inches shorter than him, I felt more powerful up there as I poked him in his shoulder. “No one is as invested as I am, and how dare you give anyone the authority to override my decision after how hard you know I’ve worked on it. Have you completely lost your mind?”
“No. I’ve navigated this whole negotiation with a completely rational and sound mind, although I would have liked to have tantrums like you numerous times,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Of course. Because you’re a big baby when it comes to your resort. Wah-wah. Someone else has plans as good as yours and wants to implement them into a tiny bakery. You still get the massive resort exactly how you want it all around that bakery. Plus, this bakery is a damn good addition. I’ve agonized over every detail probably more than anyone else. You haven’t combed through Valentino’s restaurant like this. Nor has Rita. I swear she wants it to fail because I’ve changed her plans, and now she sees this as a way to point and say, ‘See, I told you so.’ Just like everyone in my life.”
I wobbled on the curb. The man kept glaring at me, but his arm immediately shot out to wrap around my waist.
I frowned and looked down. “What … what are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t fall, cupcake. The ground could be slippery.”
I bit my lip because immediately I wanted to thank him and kiss him for protecting me even while I bit his head off. I didn’t though. Instead, I crossed my arms and huffed, “Fine.” He smirked. “I still want all my changes and we’re getting closer to the reopening which means flowers are next, Dominic.”
“Don’t I know it, babe. I’ll make it happen. Now, tell me, who’s saying I told you so?”
“I … what?”
“You said everyone does that to you? Your mom?”
“And Anastasia and probably Rita and I know you will too. That’s fine. I need to know I tried my best anyway. If it’s a failure, I want it to bemyfailure and no one else’s.”
“Why?”
“Because at least it’s my own then, right? And have you ever heard of someone successful not having any failures? If I don’t make it here, I’ll learn from it and make it somewhere else.” I meant it too. I’d found myself wanting this bakery more and more, wanting to prove myself. “I’m going to fight for my success, Dominic, and fight to belong somewhere.”
