AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nope.”
“You’re just going to keep it in your memory bank and hope it all works out?”
“Yep.” I tap a finger against my temple. “Got a pretty good memory bank.”
“I doubt that very much.”
An employee drops a tray of assorted cakes in front of us, then fills two glasses with water, then heads to the back to give us the privacy I'm sure Samira requested.
I don’t need to ask. I already know the one in the center is the cake we’re here for. The blueberry filling gives it away.
Samira pulls out a pink binder from her purse while I reach across the table and stab a piece with the fork. This side of her—the proper one—is so different from the one I met in the club. She’s attractive in her business suit, her high heels and perfect makeup. So proper with straight posture while she clicks her pen and prepares to write whatever I say down.
I want the messy version. The one with mascara smeared, her pink lipstick wiped free to show the nude color of her lips while it stains my cock. I want to see her in jeans or sweats, her hair all tangled after a long day of work. That version, the version of her in the club was the real her. This one is just a mask.
She peers at me intently while I take a bite. I chew and swallow despite the taste. It’shorrible. And it’s not the substitute of regular flour for almond, or cow’s milk for almond milk, or eggs for applesauce. This cake just plain fucking sucks.
I swallow while Sammy readies her pen, preparing herself for whatever it is I’ll say. She watches intently, and I gulp down the entire glass.
“This isn’t it.” I fold the napkin and set it on the table. “I’m starving. Let’s grab some dinner.”
Her mouth drops, pink lips forming that sweet, shocking way it seems to do whenever I speak. I’m aware of my lack of small talk, my need to get straight to the point. I know it surprises people when I don’t circle around the topic.
I’m direct, and I don’t give a fuck how your day is going. Because mine is most likely going like shit, but society dictates I need to lie and say it’s good. Fuck that. I prefer to skip it all.
“What do you mean?” She glances toward the other untouched slices of cake. Each of them has little cards that state what they are. Chocolate, vanilla, and a few others. “You haven’t even touched the others.”
I shrug. “Saoirse wants this flavor. This bakery isn’t it.”
Her mouth parts, eyes falling in slight disappointment. “There’s no other local vegan bakery that caters weddings in this area.”
“It’s disgusting, Samira.” I rest my hand on the back of her chair. A finger catches a bit of her soft hair, and I stop myself from twirling it between my fingers. “I can’t, in good faith, approve this cake.”
The rumble of her stomach cuts through the air, and a slight bit of concern courses through me. Is she just hungry because it’s getting late? Or is it a case like Saoirse, where she skips meals? I tug the ends of her hair to command her attention.
She turns toward me, wide-eyed.
“You need to eat. Let’s go,” I say.
“I’m fine,” she insists.
I remain seated as she closes the binder, forcefully shoves it into her purse, and then comes to a full stand. “What do I tell Saoirse?”
“I’ll tell her the truth. This place tastes like dirt. We’ll find a bakery, doll.” I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “I’ll see what I can find in New York and shoot you a list.”
“New York?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll be there on Sunday for business. I’ll poke around and see what I find.”
“Right, okay. But . . .” She sighs. “Please. Can you please just fill out the paper? For Saoirse.”
I roll my eyes and hesitate, but stick out a hand anyway. Sammy grins with her feat and rummages to pull out the paper again. I take it, glance over the colored sheet with bullet points and boxes and flowers, then fold it up and slide it into the empty pocket inside the jacket.
“But this means you’re getting dinner with me.” I wrap a hand around her waist and pull her into me before she can get away. Then I drag her out of the bakery.
“It’s not a date,” Samira insists.
“It’s a business discussion,” I say. “We’ll google bakeries, and you can squeeze some on my itinerary.”
