“I’m going to be a bartender for a night or two every week to help with my English,” he said in response.
I was not expecting him to say that since I thought he was quite fluent already. Though he still carried his accent, it wasn’t hard to understand him.
“Really? I think your English is very good already,” I told him honestly as I placed all the twists on the trays.
“I do know a lot of English, but I struggle most with the phrases and street talk,” he explained.
“Like what? Do you have an example?” I asked, genuinely interested to hear his answer.
He seemed to ponder the question for a moment before a frustrated look took over his face. “The word shit. If someone tells you that something is shit, it means it is bad.Butif someone tells you something istheshit, then it is good. Very confusing.”
I laughed at the stupidity of his statement, but also at the fact that it was the truth.
“That took me months to figure out, and honestly, I still don’t really get how the same word can be complete opposites just by adding the wordthein front of it.” He shook his head at the ridiculousness.
“I hate to break it to you, but there’s a few other words like that too,” I told him with a slightly mischievous look on my face.
“Yes, I know,” he groaned and rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
I found it oddly amusing how this handsome, strong, and seemingly smart man had to struggle in any way.
“If you know more, tell me. Please,” he pleaded. “I’d rather know than say the wrong thing.”
I thought for a moment, and Luna’s word from earlier popped into my head.
“Okay, well, the first one that comes to mind isbad,” I started. “If you call someone bad, it’s…obviously a bad thing. And if you call someone an ass, that is also a bad thing.”
“I do know that much,” he said with a small grin, as though he thought I was placating him.
“Okay, good. But if you combine them and someone calls you abadass, then it’s actually a good thing,” I replied, watching the grin fall from his face.
“Ugh,” he mumbled as his shoulders almost slumped in defeat. “Okay, new plan,” he said. “If you feel like coming to visit the bar, maybe you could come visit on a night I work. I could use some of your help.”
As unusual as the suggestion was, a lightbulb went off in my head. If he wouldn’t let me pay him for helping me with my stalker, at least I could add English lessons to the boxes of pastries I was sending with him as my payment.
“Deal,” I told him, smiling as I carried the trays over to the cooler. “Just let me know what days you work.”
“I think my first shift might be Monday,” he said.
“Great. I don’t work Mondays, so that should work out.”
“I am not sure of my exact hours yet, but I can text you and let you know.”
“Perfect,” I replied, hoping my voice was the right balance of excited but not too excited.
“Unfortunately, I do have a few more questions about this Braden man,” he said, his voice switching to a more serious tone, and I wanted to immediately go back to our fun banter about stupid English words.
I washed my hands and then led him to my office. He had me describe how I first met Braden. What he was like during our encounters. Was he aggressive, polite, or nervous? Did he ever get into small talk with me, such as where he was from, did he have siblings, and every other possible topic.
“These are the kinds of details that make finding him and tracking him down easier,” he explained.
Since Braden had always made me uncomfortable, even before the letters, I hadn’t spent much time talking to him. In fact, I had always kept the conversation going long enough to be polite but never taken it any further so it didn’t give him the wrong impression.
But beyond him making me uncomfortable, I also found him rather boring.
Axel asked a few more questions before finally heading out. He told me to give them a few more days, but they should be able to get some answers soon. Braden hadn’t been back in a few months, which was unusual for him, but he had been sending letters instead. Even though I didn’t particularly enjoy seeing him in person, the letters were creepier.
About fifteen minutesafter Axel left, I made my way back out to the front to add the newest batch of princess cakes I had made to the display case.
