I give him a small smile and slip out the door, quietly shutting it behind me. I pray he doesn’t come out and follow me to the kitchen. I am determined to leave in a dignified manner with my integrity intact.
THIRTEEN
Elton
"How long do you plan on sitting there? Stalking isn’t your style.” Jeeves’s normally impassive voice is now tinged with humour. He’s not one for many words, but won’t miss the opportunity to call me out.
“Neive’s in there. I’m making sure she’s okay.” I grunt down the phone. My irritation with him is out of line. I’ve been off since that day, I know that. Jeeves and Neive have made sure I know it, the latter taking to calling me a “grumpy loser” under her breath and Jeeves fielding everything except positive work updates so as to not push me over the edge. I already feel like a dick and now my mood is affecting those around me.
I can’t remember the last time I acted so stupidly. Why couldn’t I stay calm and use my normally sound reasoning skills to not jump to the wrong conclusion?
“And will you be posting yourself outside Neive’s school tomorrow as well? Or is it just the baking lessons that require supervision?” he asks.
I bite my tongue. Clearly my temper needs addressing, I had an amazing woman, a woman who is smart, kind, beautiful and funny. A woman who was willing to give me a chance. She’s great with Neive, and the sexual chemistry between us is off the charts. I haven’t stopped picturing her on my table, my head between her legs. Her little moans and whimpers. She is pure bliss. And I fucked it! I let my own paranoia and insecurities control me.
Jeeves pointedly clears his throat. “Just e-sign the documents I’m sending out to you and I’ll sort the rest,” he clips, ever so close to showing some real emotion. I choose to ignore him. Instead, I focus on spying through the window of the bakery where Reilly works. Even from here, I can see the wonder on Neive’s face as she hangs on Reilly’s every word. Who wouldn’t? She’s so animated when she speaks, it draws you in.
“So pretty …” I mutter to myself.
“Right well, I’ll leave you to do that.” Jeeves hangs up, clearly uninterested in listening to the ramblings of my remorse.
I’ve dropped Neive off at the bakery after hours every Tuesday for three weeks now. Then I sit in the car, too weak to go in there and face Reilly. I want to – god, I want to. I don’t know if it will be received well.
I hurt her.
Even though she kept herself poised and in control, her face was flushed and her eyes glistened as if close to tears. She kept her hands behind her back, but I would bet money they were trembling with fury. She’s a strong woman, and she feeds off emotion. It’s what makes her passionate. So despite the apathetic cold front she was giving off, I knew there was a storm of ferocity inside. As she left my office, I found myselfstatic, my shame and fear kept me cemented where I was. So, I let her walk away.
After my second ignored text to Neive, I jump out of the car and make my way to the entrance. She’s normally out on time, but they are still chatting away and drinking smoothies without a care in the world.
Taking a deep breath, I push the door. It doesn’t budge. Both Reilly and Neive look up at me. Okay, it’s a pull. Nope, still not moving. My face heats as Neive hides a giggle behind her hand, and Reilly takes a sip of her smoothie, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly before she remembers it’s me she’s looking at.
I try the door again and Reilly actually rolls her eyes at me and makes her way over to the door, points at the handle and unlocks it. Makes sense, it’s late and Reilly is responsible. Our eyes meet through the window. I can’t look away as she opens the door and I step inside.
“It was locked,” I state, shoving my hands in my pockets. Her curls are piled on her head, and as always, she is covered in flour, sugar, or something else. It’s dusting across her cheek and it’s taking everything in me not to brush my thumb across her face.
“Yes,” she confirms, with all the warmth of the queen’s guard. I don’t like it. I want the real Reilly.
“Uncle Elton, we made Reilly a birthday cake.” Neive proudly shows off their cake, which has freshly blown-out candles. The cake has soft pink icing with white and yellow piped swirls and a colourful selection of macarons on top.
“Looks amazing,” I tell her, putting my arm around her and popping a kiss to her forehead. I turn my attention back to Reilly. “It’s your birthday?”
“Tomorrow.” This conversation is so cold I can see my breath in it.
Reilly fusses around the bakery, tidying the sides and dropping the blinds. Neive wiggles out of my hold and raises her eyebrows at me and nods towards Reilly. She gathers her things and as she hugs Reilly goodbye, Reilly’s face transforms. Her smile beams, her eyes light up. I don’t get that Reilly anymore.
“Happy Birthday for tomorrow, Ry.” Neive’s given Reilly a nickname. I want that honour. “See you in the car, Uncle Elton.” She furrows her eyebrows at me again, nodding towards Reilly.Real subtle, Neive.
The car is parked right outside so she’s safely locked away quickly, leaving me and Reilly in an awkward silence. Her eyes flit between me and the door. She probably expects me to go, but I’m not ready to yet.
She walks back behind the counter and starts to wipe the sides, doing her best to ignore me. I grab a cloth to help her, anything to prolong my time in her presence. She eyes me suspiciously but sprays the counter in front of me, accepting my offer of help.
“Neive is doing really well. I think she’s enjoying herself, which is obviously the main thing,” she tells me.
“Sheisenjoying herself. You’re doing amazing work with her, Reilly.”
“She’s an easy girl to work with.”
“She is,” I agree. Reilly smiles as she starts to reorder the coffee cups. “She’s not had an easy time of it recently, none of us have.”
