“You do that.” She patted me on the shoulder and walked back into the boy’s room. I watched the way their eyes traveled when she walked in, and how Andrew laughed when she sat down. They gave her more attention and affection than they ever gave me. A woman would change things.
Chapter Sixteen
Zoe
I heard the sound of the doorbell cut through the silence in the kitchen. Chloe was busy wrestling with a piece of dough the size of my head, so it was my turn to wait on the customer. I washed my hands and tried to brush away some of the flour that’d caked all over my apron before I walked out into the lobby.
It was the ginger sasquatch again, with two of his equally furry buddies in tow. “Welcome back,” I said, leaning against the counter to take some of the weight off my feet. “How can I help you?”
“Three dozen orange and ginger, please,” Bigfoot grunted. He and his friends were crowding around the counter with ravenous looks on their faces. One was eyeing the muffin display case.
“Anything else?” I turned to the guy drooling over the display case. He was staring at a batch of apple nut muffins I made the day before.
“I’ll get one of those.” He pointed at the muffins.
“Sure, I’ll have that right up.” I turned back to pull three cookie boxes out from under the counter. When I turned back around to place the cookies inside, Mr. Beetle had his hands cupped around his eyes so he could see inside the front window. He had a streak of dirt on his cheek.
I ignored him and went back to pulling the cookies out of the display case. “Here you are.” I set the three boxes on the counter, along with Bigfoot's friend’s muffin.
“Thanks.” The ginger handed me two bills. A one hundred dollar one and a twenty dollar one. “Keep the change. The cookies are worth it.”
“Really?” The order was just a little over one hundred dollars.
“This, too.” The guy who ordered the muffin pulled out a wad of bills and stuffed it in the tip jar.
“You guys rock. Send every single person you know in here.”
“Oh, we will,” the ginger said before he left.
Mr. Beetle turned around when they left and watched them walk across the parking lot toward their cars. Bigfoot stopped when he opened his door and looked at him. Mr. Beetle gave him the finger and ran off.
“Again?” Chloe walked out of the kitchen. “Does he come every day you’re here alone?”
“Not every day but sometimes.”
“Look.” Chloe pointed out the window. Mr. Beetle walked back into the lot and bent over to pick up a cigarette butt. He bit the end, pulled out the filter with his teeth and lit it.
“Ooh, that’s just wrong.” We both laughed.
“See? You’re gonna have to get rid of him.”
“So long as he doesn’t start licking all of our food, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“Why does he keep running after the guys who come in here? It’s like he’s trying to guard you or something. Zoe, this man is dangerous. He’s creeping me out, and I don’t feel comfortable coming in here when he’s around. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re doing quite well without him. I think it’s time to get rid of him.”
“I don’t want a scene, and I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Plenty of businesses have homeless people who walk around the lot. This is downtown, after all.”
“Fine.” She gave up and walked back into the kitchen.
I stayed and waited through the lunch rush. Mr. Beetle stayed throughout the entire thing, watching each customer as they passed the shop. I paid close attention to their reactions. Many didn’t seem to care. It was like I told Chloe. This was downtown. A certain element was expected, but there were some who seemed perturbed. One lady took a glance at him and started running out to her car.
“See?” Chloe came out of the kitchen when she left. “He’s scaring people away.”
I sighed, and let my head fall back. “All right…”
Chloe cocked her head and looked at me. “All right, what?”
“Go lock the door and turn the sign around.”
“Really?” Her eyes went wide, and she ran out to go lock the door.
The second she got close, Mr. Beetle ran at the door. She lunged forward and locked it. He grabbed a handful of rocks and threw it straight at the front window. My heart stopped. If that thing shattered, it would cost me thousands of dollars to replace it. Thankfully, the rocks were small, and he threw like a little girl. They bounced off and fell down to the ground.
“What are you going to do about that?” Chloe asked.
“Watch him carefully. If he does that again, call the police.”
“How come it took this long for you to come around?”
“I’ve been around the entire time. I’ve just never had a good reason to call the police on him. Coming in every day isn’t a crime.”
“Property damage is.”
Chloe was mad at me for the rest of the night, stomping around, giving me the cold shoulder. I tried explaining to her why I’d waited so long to take action against Mr. Beetle—it would’ve caused a scene—but she didn’t want to hear it, and the more I thought about it, the more I understood why. She felt vulnerable. He could walk in whenever he wanted to and do whatever he wanted to her, and there’d be nothing she could do to stop him.
That night, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I reached around blindly and grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Zoe…”
It was Chloe. “What’s going on? What time is it?”
“Three-thirty.”
“What are you doing calling me this late? You’ve got to work in the morning.”
“I can’t. I’ve been up all night, puking.” Her voice was quiet, meek. She was afraid. I never let her get away with faking sick.
“Chloe…”
“No, I mean it. I’ve been puking up ice chips for the past hour.”
“Tell me what’s wrong?” I knew what was wrong. She was supposed to work at the shop alone tomorrow. Mr. Beetle had freaked her out more than I realized. Still, I didn’t like the idea of her staying up all night worrying about it.
“I can’t come in tomorrow,” she said again. “You’re not gonna fire me, are you?”
“No.” I sat up. “I’m not.” I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t even sure I liked the idea of going to work alone.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Get some sleep and don’t worry. I know you’re not sick. But I understand.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
The next morning, I parked behind the bakery and got out of the car, my feet crunching against the pavement. The building was pretty straightforward, a square, red brick shop with a glass front. It was built in the back of the lot, next to a wooden fence that was hanging sideways almost to the ground.
I walked into the alleyway behind it, ignoring the smell of dirty diapers and rotting food. It wasn’t very long, just a block, but it offered a lot of cover, so I took my time looking through, watching for anything that a homeless person would sleep on—blankets, pillows, jackets—any sign of Mr. Beetle’s camp. He was always around, and he didn’t smell like he had anywhere else to call home.
There wasn’t much in the alley. Just some old newspapers flying around in the wind and a pile of old books sitting next to a dumpster. I walked back, a little disappointed. I thought that maybe if I could find his camp, I could tell the police where it was if he caused me any more trouble. Wherever the hell he lived, it wasn’t behind the alley, and I didn’t have time to go traipsing around downtown hunting for him.
I opened the bakery and walked into the kitchen. My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. Chloe sent me a message saying, “How’s it going?”
“You’re worried,” I typed. “I’m not ignoring this anymore.”
“Good.” She added a smiley face.
The day was slow. It was Saturday, which meant that the mechan
ics were still sleeping off their hangovers or getting ready for a second round. All the businessmen who filled the downtown office buildings were still safe at home, nestled under their covers. It was probably better that way. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with anyone, and I already had enough money to get me through the month.
I decided to take it slow and do some baking now that I had a chance. After the lunch rush, and the ensuing clean up, I took a muffin in back so I could eat and read to clear my head. Things were quiet, and I was tense. Mr. Beetle usually came in around that time.
The doorbell rang. My back went stiff, and I found myself sniffing the air for the stench of rolled cigarettes and coagulated urine. I didn’t smell anything, but that didn’t mean I was in the clear. I got up slowly and inched my way closer to the kitchen door, trying to see who was in the lobby, but they were standing behind one of the cake displays.
“Yeah, Chloe. I think we can probably add a little more cocoa powder to that batch,” I called out, loud enough for whoever was in the lobby to hear. It was a desperate attempt to keep Mr. Beetle from thinking that I was alone. It was stupid. I was freaking out over a handful of rocks, and I was making myself look like an idiot. It didn’t matter what I did. I’d still have to walk out there, and if Mr. Beetle was there, I’d have to deal with him. I got up and walked out into the lobby.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I stopped halfway to the register. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Archer was standing in front of the register, subdued and a little sheepish with his hands in his pockets.
“How are you?” I tried to dispel the initial shock, but I could see right away that that wasn’t going to happen, so I threw caution to the wind. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I didn’t think you would either. I just—I’m sorry, Zoe.”
“What is it? One second, you want it. The next you don’t.”
“My life isn’t easy. You must know that. I’ve got thirty things going on at any given time—weapons development, defense contracts. It’s not the kind of world you just let somebody into, and yeah, it’s been hard. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.” I was glad that we could talk directly about it. He had this way of smiling without even lifting his mouth. It was in his eyes. I couldn’t understand how he did it, but it gave me chills.
“Is somebody here with you?” He looked around me.
“No,” I said, laughing awkwardly. “I thought you were this guy. The one you saw at the club.”
“Is he giving you trouble?” I watched the muscles flex in his arms when his hands balled up into fists.
“He stood outside yesterday and scared some of the customers, so the girl that works with me, Chloe, she ran over to lock the door so he couldn’t come in. He rushed at her, almost got inside before she could lock it. Then, he picked up a handful of rocks and threw them at the door.”
Archer turned back. “Did he break the window?”
“No, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he did. I have insurance, but the premiums are already too high.”
“Zoe, this isn’t the first time he’s done this. Are you sure you’re okay here alone?”
“I think he’s homeless. He’s probably begging for money just to eat. He can’t afford a gun or a knife, and he’s not that big. Chloe and I could probably overpower him.”
“But you don’t know that.” Archer was clearly disturbed by what I’d told him, like he needed some reassurance.
“No, and it’s starting to scare my friend. She called me at three in the morning last night to tell me that she’d been puking and she couldn’t come in, but I know she didn’t want to come in because of him. She was mad at me all last night for waiting as long as I did to get rid of him.”
“Just be careful. Do you have protection?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Keep it close.”
“Did you need anything?” I asked.
“I wanted to get a dozen of those cherry chocolate chip cookies. They’re amazing.”
“Okay.” I turned back and ducked down to get a box.
“I was also wondering if maybe you’d like to come to dinner with me tomorrow.” His voice dipped low when he asked, betraying the profundity of his intentions.
“I can’t. I mean—not that I don’t want to go, or that I’m rejecting you or anything. It’s just that Chloe isn’t here, and I still have to make everything. We keep running out of those orange and ginger snaps.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone after what you told me. Would you mind if I stuck around with you for a while?”
“That would be amazing, but you have to do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been dying to make this apricot streusel recipe, and I need your opinion on it.”
“That sounds delicious.” I led him around back into the kitchen. He took one look at the mountain of dishes sitting in the sink and started washing his hands.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m not letting you clean this whole thing yourself. You’ll be here all night.”
“You’re a dear.”
Archer finished the dishes faster than I could dirty them, and when he was done, he was the perfect spectator, never once interrupting me as I rushed around, making dough, syrup, and batter. He watched closely, silently admiring my technique.
I finished baking and walked into the kitchen to grab my cleaning supplies so I could close up. Archer stopped me. “You look like you’re ready to collapse. Let me sweep and mop.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no problem.”
“All right.” It was my turn to admire his technique. The man might’ve been a billionaire, but he knew how to clean better than any janitor I’d ever met. He had a way of reaching all of the dark corners that usually got neglected and making them shine.
“That must’ve been your military training.” I was standing at the register admiring the lobby.
“I used to clean latrines with a toothbrush. This is nothing comparted to that.”
I laughed. “Now’s the real test. Can you handle the apricot challenge?”
“I believe so, but no peanuts. I’m allergic to nuts. You don’t have any here, do you? Just a fleck in the air, and I’ll fall over dead, I swear.”
“Shit, really?”
“No, I’m fucking with you. I’ve had four of your peanut butter cookies in the past week. They’re one of my favorites.”
I slapped him on the back playfully. “Come on.” I showed him into the kitchen. “Let’s start that streusel.”
The apricots were juicy and sweet, with just the right amount of tart. Archer couldn’t help himself. The second I gave him a bite, he just started eating it, so I sat down with him, and we finished it together.
“Chloe is going to be so mad.” I set my spoon down and backed away from it. “We were supposed to make this together.”
“I’m sure that she won’t mind after the day off.”
“She’s a little jealous, I think. She’s playing it off like she’s skeptical of you, but I think she wants to keep me all to herself. You’re going to get nothing but snide remarks from her.”
“That’s okay. So long as I get you.” He leaned in and kissed me.
“We’ll see,” I said and got up. “I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
We turned off the lights and armed the alarm. Then we walked out back into the lot. I scanned the lot for any sign of Mr. Beetle, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Thank you for staying,” I told Archer when we got to my car.
“Of course,” he said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you yet. I’m just getting started.”
I looked around the lot, then back at Archer, and threw my arms around his neck and offered him my lips. He fell into the kiss like a boulder falling off a cliff and slammed his tongue th
rough my mouth, showing off the full force of his bestial nature.
He left me light headed when I pulled away. “I’m kind of excited for tomorrow night.”
“So am I.” That confirmation was enough to throw my stomach up in the air and send it crashing down. We waited and held one another for as long as we could. Then I got in and drove away with a huge smile on my face.
Chapter Seventeen
Archer
I pressed the intercom button my phone. “What’s up?” Angela asked, sounding frazzled.
“I’m sorry to do this to you…”
“But?”
“I’ve got a two-foot high stack of paperwork and a date in two hours. Please tell me you can stay and handle some of this for me.”
There was a long pause where I imagined her putting the phone on mute and throwing things around. “I don’t have anything better to do,” she finally said. “You need me to sweep and mop the lobby to give the janitors the day off?”
“Angela, you must know that without you, my life simply would not function. You are not just an administrative assistant. You’re a badass bitch who worked her ass off to get a position with one of the richest men in town, and you deserve it.”
“Thank you, Archer. That means a lot.”
“You’re welcome, and when you get off, take the company card. Get yourself something nice and have dinner.”
She thanked me and graciously allowed me to transfer the brunt of my workload to her. I was lucky to have dedicated people in my life who wanted the best for me, my company, and the boys. They were genuine, capable, and they actually cared.
The drive home was quick. Traffic had mostly thinned out by that time, and I was getting anxious. I had less than an hour and a half to get ready to go to dinner and pick up Zoe, and I wasn’t about to be late.
When I walked inside the house, Mona was sitting in the living room, reading with the TV on so she could watch what the boys were doing. She looked up at me.
“What are you doing? You’re going to be late. Come on.” She pulled me by the sleeve up to my room and started shuffling through my clothes. “So, you’re going to tell her about the boys tonight, I assume?”
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