We ended up talking for hours, and the time just flew by. He did most of the talking since I was asking all the questions about his family and growing up in Florida. I could tell he wanted to know more about me, but he never pressed me when I diverted the questions back to him.
I shared what I could on a surface level. He knows I grew up in Alabama and am an only child. When he asked me aboutmy parents, I told him they weren’t in the picture and left it at that. At an early age, I learned to share the bare minimum with people. If you give them too much truth, it can be used to hurt you.
“Mmm. Something smells good. Of course, it always smells good when you are in the room.” My hand stills at the voice behind me, and I force myself not to fling the tray at him and run.
With a shaky hand, I place the last of the muffins in the display before turning and facing Al. He’s in his fifties with grey balding hair. He’s under the illusion that if he grows his hair out on the side and back, he can cover up the areas that don’t have any. He always wears a suit. Today, it’s an ugly color grey, making his white pasty skin look more sickly. His pot belly hangs over his belt as the buttons of his shirt strain to hold him in.
I glance at his beady black eyes before quickly averting my gaze. He’s the type of guy you tell your children to stay away from. There’s just something about him that screams I’m a sick perv. I try to avoid being alone with him at work, but every so often, I get stuck like this between shifts. He’s never once crossed the line physically, which is the only reason I put up with his slimy comments.
I badly need this job, but I swore I would never let another man touch me again unless I wanted him to. If he ever crosses the line physically, no amount of money would make me stay.
I don’t bother responding to his comment, but instead, I walk past him to get more pies from the kitchen. His cheap cologne hits me, and I swallow down the nausea that immediately appears.
“Always running away from me,” he murmurs, following me into the kitchen. “You’ve been here, what? Eight months now?”
I nod my head and grab the pies from the cooler.
“Don’t you think it’s time you start to trust me a little bit more? I’ve been good to you. You get any shift you ask for. I even let you make your own desserts when you want to. I pay you in cash just like you want.” He steps closer, and my body stiffens. “Don’t you think you owe it to me to be a little bit more thankful to the one who is taking care of you?” His stale breath hits my face, and I feel the bile rise in my throat.
I hear the bell ring from the front door being opened, and relief washes over me.
“I need to take care of the customer,” I manage to get out. His eyes roam over me, and my skin crawls from the look I see in them. He’s turned on right now. I can feel it oozing out of him as his breathing increases. He smiles and steps back, enjoying my discomfort.
“Of course. Go take care of the customer, and we can finish this conversation when you are done.”
I quickly move around him on shaky legs and barge through the door, desperate to get away from the sick look in his eyes.
“Lyla?”
I whip my head up to the familiar voice. A voice that instantly has me fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill.
“What’s wrong?” He immediately scans my body like he’s trying to see any evidence that I’m hurt. “Lyla, talk to me.”
“I’m…I’m fine.” I take a deep breath and will myself to calm down. “How? How did you find me?”
He eyes me warily, and I can tell he knows I’m lying about being fine when I’m clearly not. “You really want me to answer your question and not address the fact that you’re shaking and look like you're two seconds away from either bursting into tears or bolting out that front door?”
“I’m fine, Jake…really.” His eyes hold mine, and it’s all I can donot to run into his arms just to feel that comfort that I know he will give me…that he wants to give me. Then I remember why I need this job and force myself to stand still.
I feel the air change when Jake glances behind me. His eyes change in an instant as they harden to steel.
“You must be Al.” Jake’s voice is lower than I’ve ever heard it, and there’s no mistaking the dislike rolling off his tongue. I glance nervously between my boss and Jake.
“I am.” Al puffs out his chest like it somehow will make him more intimidating than the tall, muscular man covered in tattoos in front of me. “And you are?”
“I’m Lyla’s boyfriend.” My mouth drops open.
I start to correct him, but he shoots me a look that has me keeping quiet. Maybe he’s thinking if Al thinks he’s my boyfriend, he will back off and leave me alone. Al’s has got to be stupid to do anything to piss off a guy who looks like Jake.
“She never told me she had a boyfriend.” His eyes dart to me.
“You never asked.” I stand up straighter and look him in the eye. He looks between us, and I can tell I just put a dent in whatever plans he had in his head.This just might work.
“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” he straightens his tie. A sheen of sweat now covers his forehead and scalp, causing his hair to plaster to his bald spot. “And no giving out free stuff to your boyfriend, or it will come out of your paycheck.” I watch him walk away, and I start to smile.
“Thank you for doing that. That was brilliant. There’s no way he will try anything now.” I turn to Jake, and my grin vanishes when I see him. He’s gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are white. The storm in his eyes is directed at me. “Why do you look so mad? I thought you would be happy. You scared him so bad, I’m surprised he didn’t piss himself.”
“What happened before I came in?”
