AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Rough night?” She was on the verge of yelling.
“Rough morning,” I nearly shouted back.
“Jeez, when did that start?” she asked.
“About five this morning. Take a tart. It has fruit,” I said before she could argue about the sugar coma it would induce.
“Enabler,” she muttered, but she grabbed a tart and took a bite. “Holy hell in a hand basket this is good.”
An hour later, the bakery was open, and the jackhammer was silent. I wiped my hands on a dishrag and went outside to see what the construction crew had done. I stared in horror as I realized the sidewalk and part of the street in front of my store had been torn apart and blocked off with orange cones and yellow tape on both sides that saidcautionin big, bold, black lettering. Any pedestrian that saw the cones would immediately cross the street, bypassing my bakery entirely. The construction crew had created a literal pedestrian detour away from my store.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. I grabbed tape from a section just in front of the door and ripped it down, making an opening.
I was just about to head back inside when I saw a man in a three-piece gray suit across the street. He lifted his hand and waved and then he approached me. It was the same customer who’d come into the bakery a few days prior and mentioned the lull in business. The bakery wasn’t in a bad part of town, but it was definitively industrial. This man, in his sleek suit, wearing an expensive watch and with his slicked-back hair clearly didn’t belong here.
“Good morning,” he greeted, his gaze traveling up and down my body. I was wearing an old pair of black jeans that were dusted with flour and a white T-shirt. It was warm in the bakery near the oven, but I’d gone outside without throwing on a jacket and the cool temperature made my nipples pucker.
I crossed my arms over my chest to shield myself from his gaze.
“I was coming by for another cafe au lait,” he said. He looked at the door to the bakery. “Are you even open?”
I couldn’t stop the glare. “Yes. We’re open.”
He waved his hand to the door, signaling for me to go first. I didn’t like how close he stood to me when he followed me inside.
“Jazz,” I called out. “This gentleman would like a cafe au lait to go, please.”
There was a definite bite to my voice, and Jazz raised her brows. “Sure thing.”
“What a lovely name,” the man purred at Jazz.
She snapped her spine straight. “I’ll get you that cafe au lait.”
“How about a few of those tarts? They look fresh.”
“All the baked goods are fresh,” I stated.
“Fresh baked goods, fresh new business. The neighborhood is changing fast, isn’t it?”
I bagged the tarts and set them down in front of him. Jazz handed him his coffee.
He gave me a folded bill. “Keep the change.”
Jazz and I tracked his exit, and when the door shut, Jazz said, “That guy gives me the creeps.”
“Same.” I unfolded the twenty-dollar bill he had left, and a business card dropped onto the counter.
Jazz picked it up. “Kurt Antol.” She flipped it over. “Phone number and address, but no business or anything.”
“Nothing good,” I said immediately.
“You think?”
I nodded slowly. “Aside from the overwhelming creep factor, he just has this way about him. Like he knows something I don’t.”
“I don’t like it,” she said protectively.
“Not to mention this is the second time he’s come in here and overpaid, and the second time he’s talked about the business.”
