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That’s a lie.
I know exactly what I expected. I thought Elvis would come over late at night, slip into my bed beside me, and it would happen again and again until we were married, then we’d live together always. We’d raise babies, and I would have a little crib and room set up in the back for them at the bakery.
It would be amazing.
Except it’s been a week, and I haven’t seen or heard a sound from him. At one point, I thought that maybe he had died, but when Gnaw came waltzing into the bakery and ordered a dozen snickerdoodle cupcakes, he told me it was Elvis’s birthday.
My heart sank.
That was yesterday.
The farmers’ market is tomorrow.
I’ve paid my table fee. I’ve baked all the individual cupcakes that fit perfectly inside of a clear plastic cup. I wrapped cellophane and a ribbon around the top, attaching a spoon with a little card that explains what is inside, whether it's gluten-free, vegan, or all the above.
But I thought he would help me. I thought we were in all of this together. I do know that he already paid my rent six months in advance because Arthur called me and informed me. Arthur really is a nice man, but I wasn’t expecting to hear that from him, so I’m pretty sure I was rude because I couldn’t even speak.
I have my boxes of packed cupcakes. I have business cards with a QR code that leads to my social media, along with my shop’s name and address, but what I don’t have is a ride to the farmers’ market.
I’m an idiot.
I could call my brother, but I’m fairly certain I’ll never see him or my mother again. That part of this situation is the most appealing. So, I suppose, if nothing else, I can be glad he handled that for me, but I have six months to make this work, and when I do, I’m going to pay him back that rent… in person.
I’m going to tell him to fuck off at the same time I throw the money at him. It probably won’t mean shit to him, but it will make me feel good. Letting out a sigh, I look through the contacts on my phone, trying to find someone who will be gracious enough to give me and my cupcakes a ride. God knows there’s no Uber in this town.
As I scroll through the names, I realize I don’t know anyone well enough to ask this of them. I’ve spent my whole life working hard, keeping my focus on baking, working, and my bakery, so I haven’t formed any real friendships or bonds.
Then I stop at his name. I stare at it. Elvis. I want to call it or, at the very least, text him, but I don’t want to come off as desperate. He said he would text me. He knows how to find me, and as much as I miss him, every single part of him, I’m not going to beg.
I’ve never begged for anything in my life, and I won’t start with him.
Tossing my phone onto the counter, I try to breathe slowly, easily, calmly, but it doesn’t work. My heart races at the thought of failing yet again. I can’t. I am determined to make this work. I am going to prove to everyone, especially Elvis, that I got this… no, I don’t just got this. I’m going to make this my bitch.
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I do something that I probably shouldn’t. I haven’t spoken to him in years, but he’s the only one who I think I could call, and I know he works on his dad’s ranch just outside of town.
I touch his name, closing my eyes as I hold the phone to my ear. I don’t want to do this. I feel like a complete fucking idiot.
“Shawn?” he asks as his greeting.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. I was just wondering if I could ask you for a gigantic favor. I’ll even pay you.”
There is a moment of silence, a pause, so I continue to speak. “You know what? Never mind. I’m so sorry I bothered you. I know it’s been years since we’ve even seen one another, and I’m calling you out of the blue for a favor. I’m so rude. I’m just so sorry.”
“Shawn,” he calls out softly. “Stop.”
He’s soft-spoken. Always was. He’s a nice guy, the best kind of guy. Works on his family ranch. Is kind and gentle. He treated me like a spooked animal, and this man would have gone to the ends of the earth for me. But I couldn’t let him. He would have saved me from my home and given me a life.
But I needed to save myself.
At least, I thought I did. Now I know that I fucked it all up because I’m over here being used and ditched, being paid off like one of Elvis’s whores. Then I realize that’s what I am. He used my body and paid me off. Six months of rent for a few rounds of mind-blowing sex. I guess I should be grateful. It was mind-blowing. I guess it could have been a few rounds of mediocre sex.
“What do you need?” Austin asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“I need a ride from my bakery to the farmers’ market at six tomorrow morning to set up. It’s too much to ask,” I say. “Never mind. Thank you for listening to me ramble. I need to go.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and start to end the call when I hear him call out my name. I bring the phone back to my ear and am on the verge of tears when I hear him speak. He’s soft, as always, but there’s firmness laced in his tone.
“I’ll come and get you. My father and I usually go to the market, too. I’ll be out and about. We’ll swing by and get you.”
