“What have you done to this man?” Amber questions, trying to hide her giggles.
“The man has a swearing problem. Someone has to teach him a lesson.”
“At least buy me dinner first before you start spanking me, Daddy,” Gremlin retorts, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
“Fuck off, Prospect.”
He laughs. “Did I mention this chick makes him grumpier than usual? The guy can’t take a joke anymore.”
Amber eyes me curiously. “I can’t wait to meet this girl.”
We pull up to the bakery, but before we do, I make sure to slide on my mask. I don’t usually wear it while driving, if I have to.
“You know you don’t have to wear that stupid thing, Rich. I don’t understand why you’re constantly trying to hide your face. Your scars aren’t that bad,” Amber tells me, laying a friendly hand on my knee.
She doesn’t realize that the mask is the only thing keeping the beast inside me hidden. I just met this girl; I don’t need her to go running for the hills the second she sees my real face.
ChapterSeven
Mindy
“That’s it. Tomorrow I’m closed!” I shout to no one as a newly put in smoke alarm rings loudly, the plume of black smoke curling beneath it like it’s trying to tickle it. The cookies I just attempted to bake were now black circles of charcoal. It’s been three hours, and all I’ve baked is a few batches of perfect cookies and several science experiments gone wrong.
My head just isn’t in it. Ever since Moseley came to talk to me about that money, my little baking heart has been crushed.
“Cheesus, this is fudging impossible,” I swear, crumpling to the floor in a heap of defeat. There’s no way I can get enough baked goods done before tomorrow, at least not enough to make any kind of profit.
Tears prick my eyes as I bury my head in my knees, my body exhausted, my bank account looking slim. I barely had enough to buy more supplies after Moseley was done with me, and now, my gumption and drive are weakened.
A loud knock bangs on my front entrance, startling me, forcing out some tears already starting to fall. I’m covered inflour, my apron’s a mess, and it’s almost ten o’clock at night… who the hell is at my door?
The knock gets even louder the second time, so I reluctantly drag myself to my feet, pausing when I see two familiar faces standing at the door, arms full of a few boxes with grocery bags hanging from their hands.
My footsteps echo too loudly off the walls. I bet a mouse couldn’t scurry through here without sounding like its steps are made of thunder.
“I—I’m closed,” I stutter, cracking the door open enough to talk to them.
A pretty blonde steps between them. She’s smiling, but there’s a look of determination in her eyes. It’s a bit alarming, especially when she pushes her way in, carrying what looks like eggs and flour.
“Hi, I’m Amber. You must be Mindy.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer.
“You’re probably wondering why we’re here. Consider us your baking posse. Apparently, this idiot has never worked with baked goods before,” she says, motioning to Krampus, who can barely meet my eyes. “He doesn’t realize how much time and effort goes into baking goods for the next morning… that’s why we’re here. He’s going to learn tonight just how hard it is to be a baker.”
“Um? I’m confused.”
Gremlin gives me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “She’s putting us to work, sweetheart. Just tell us what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. I wouldn’t argue with her, though. She’s just as mean as he is,” he states, hooking a thumb at Krampus.
The girl marches straight to the kitchen and throws on an apron. “I worked at an Italian bakery for four years. My strengths are savory doughs and cannoli, but I can pretty much bake anything now. I was taught by the best and haven’t bakedin forever. Please let me help you. Krampus tells me that you’re working alone, and I know how hard that can be.”
Instant relief washes over me, the tension in my shoulders easing. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull this off.” Turning slowly, I face the masked man of my dreams. “As much as I love you buying out my store, I never thought about how it would affect the next day, or how many hours I would have to put in remaking everything.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Had I known—”
“Oh goodness, this isn’t your fault at all. You were just trying to be nice to the new girl in town. And I was so appreciative of it, I just didn’t expect Mr. Moseley to come marching in demanding a percentage of it.”
Everyone’s smiles fade.
