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“Who’s that?” Rebecca asked.
I watched Charlie’s eyes fall behind me as Andrew’s daughter stood in the doorway.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Is he here?”
“And if he was?”
Charlie immediately straightened up as his eyes looked around my bakery.
“Is there something you would like to purchase, Charlie?”
“Who’s that, Miss Heather?” Rebecca asked.
“No one,” I said.
“No one?” Charlie asked. “Really. We’ve known one another since high school, and I’m no one?”
I closed my eyes and sighed before I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I’m really not in the mood this morning. Is there something you want? Because if there isn’t, I really would like you to leave.”
“That’s probably why you aren’t getting customers,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“If you treat them like you treat me. Are you babysitting or something? Is that what your dream business is turning into?”
“For your information, yes I am. I’m babysitting as a favor to Andrew.”
“He going to return that favor tonight?”
“Get out,” I said.
“If you need money that badly, Heather, why don’t you just take me up on my offer? I want to help you. I want your business to succeed. I want you to succeed. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“Rebecca, honey?”
“Yes, Miss Heather.”
“Could you do me a huge favor?” I asked.
“Okay.”
“Go sit down and get your coloring book out. I’ll be there in a second. Pick out whatever picture you want.”
“Okay,” she said.
Then, I closed the door to my kitchen before I leaned my hands onto the counter.
“I want you to listen closely, Charlie, because I’m only going to say this one more time before I call the police. I do not want your help. I do not want your money. And I do not want you. I’m with Andrew, and that isn’t changing anytime soon. So the next time you walk into my bakery, the only thing you better tell me is your order so I can serve you, take your money, and get you the hell out of this place. Am I being clear enough?”
I was done with this bullshit. I watched anger flood his vision before he pushed off the counter and took a step back. He smoothed his hands down his shirt like I’d somehow mangled the fabric with my words. Then, he hissed at me a statement that shot worry through my veins.
“You’ll regret speaking to me like that. No one speaks to me like.”
