Page 67 of My Ex’s Dad

As we start the day, firing up the ovens and prepping what we hope to sell, I fill her in on all of it. I spare her the details of what happened in Anton’s bedroom. I’ll never master the fine art, or flaw, of kissing and telling. But I don’t hold back. I tell her about the gown, how he fussed over me and wanted me to understand I was the only woman he had eyes for. How awkward it was to be there and feel like an imposter, and the contradiction of how right it felt to be with Anton.

“His assistant kept deflecting her, steering her away whenever it looked like she wanted to come close,” I say. “But at the end, she slipped right up to us during a big toast and noticed I wasn’t drinking. First, she tried to insult me by implying I was underage.”

She huffs. “She’s just jealous.”

“Then she jumped to the conclusion that I was pregnant, and I just froze. I couldn’t hide it. I really didn’t think anyone would be able to guess. It’s not like I’m showing or overly sick and weak all the time.” I slam the dense ball on the counter again to knead it, as if I wanted to physically prove my point. “And I don’t think anyone would’ve noticed that I didn’t drink if she wasn’t watching me so closely like that.”

“So how did he react?”

I smile. “He was shocked. He hadn’t been counting on that, but I think he could tell from my face that it was true.”

“Was he mad?”

I shake my head. “I worried he might be, or at least mad that I hid it from him so far, but he wasn’t mad. Elena was furious.”

“What about Roman?” she asks.

“Oh, he was mad, too. Tried to claim the baby is his.” I smirk at her. Unsurprisingly she looks disgusted. “Anton had his men hold them back and we left. Then he took me home and…”

“And?” That giddy excitement is back on her face in a wide smile.

“And he said he loves me. He understands why I needed time to process the pregnancy, and he wants us to make the decisions about this baby together.”

“He actually said that? That he loves you?”

I nod, biting my lip to hold in a huge smile.

We gush a little more about how the night went. She wants every detail, telling me she’s living vicariously through me. Before she can ask what happens next, which is an answer I don’t fully know yet, Rob and Margarita show up. Then it’s time to open. All the while, I can’t shake Anton from my mind. I wonder if he’s awake yet. Whether he’s annoyed that I left without telling him I had to go to work. Whether he’s at his office, thinking about me.

It’s impossible to drift off into la-la land all morning, though. A mixer breaks, then an oven starts to act up. We have a steady flow of customers, and I’m thrilled that so many ask about the upcoming delivery options.

My mood sours when Roman shows up. With uncanny timing, he strides in when there is a lull. I’m wiping the counter as he enters. Jenni groans and comes to stand next to me, equally unhappy that he’s here.

I stand tall and refuse to show any fear. It was far easier last night, when I knew Anton would handle his son. Here, I’m on my own. Jenni’s my backup. Rob and Margarita, too. But it feels lopsided with Roman showing up like this, two young suited thugs flanking him. They lack the professionalism of Viktor and the other men who surround Anton. I’m on edge in an instant.

“Funny seeing you here,” Roman drawls, like he’s some kind of royalty walking into my space.

“Not really,” I reply. “It’s my bakery.” I’m not playing any damn games with him.

“Your bakery?” He smiles, cruel and mocking. “I’m not so sure about that.”

I cross my arms and don’t change my expression.

“Because I happen to have a contract your parents signed, that states this shithole is mine unless that money is paid off.” He’s too smug about it, like this is the deciding line that he thinks I’ll bow to.

The future of the bakery is a huge detail that Anton and I will need to address. Even with his love and knowing he’ll provide for me and our child, I refuse to entertain charity from him. But it’s not anything to discuss with Roman.

“It’s not yours,” Jenni argues, still at my side. “It’s your father’s.”

“This loan is too small an account for him to even care about,” Roman growls. “This is my account. You owe me.” He stabs a finger at his chest and leans in, as though to intimidate me. His angry face doesn’t make me budge.

“It doesn’t matter that he brought you to that gala last night. You’re nothing to him. You know that, right, Liliana?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re nothing to a man like him. He’s not going to waste any more time on some fat, frigid bitch. A nobody in debt.”

I blink and lift my chin higher. “Are you through with your tantrum yet?”

“No. This isn’t a fucking tantrum, you stupid whore.” He pounds his fist on the counter. Jenni jumps, and I grit my teeth, wishing I could slap him. With those two amateurs here, though, I’m wary of lashing out. I have to keep a level head. It’s not only myself and the workers I’m worried about. I need to protect my baby, too.

“You think he’s going to choose you? Keep you? That’s what’s so fucking comical. Last night you play his woman, and here you are again, done with the dream and back to slaving away for this pathetic bakery you’ll never pay me back for and never own again.”