“Hey, Taryn”, I ask, “where’s Declan?
“Oh, he slipped out after the cake. Did the old Irish goodbye”, she tells me.
“Irish goodbye?”
“That’s when you just leave without saying anything to anybody”, she explains.
“Oh… Well is there any chance you could give these to your brother?”
Taryn grabs the box from me but looks unsure. “I don’t really know if I’ll be seeing him anytime soon, to be honest. He’s been out of my life for months. He only showed up because I kinda guilt tripped him-- anyway, sorry, that’s more info than necessary. I’ll hold on to them and try to get him down here to pick them up.”
I thank her and head into my car. The entire drive home I found myself thinking of Declan. It’s been a while since I’ve taken time from the bakery to take a dip in the dating pool and Taryn’s brother is a very appealing candidate. Or so I thought. Being bored at a party and talking to the caterer may not be the best way to tell whether or not he is interested in me.
When I get home to my two cats, Boo and Pixel, I look around and feel immediate relief that I didn’t bring a guy home. Spending so much time at work has kept me from doing some much needed spring cleaning. My apartment is just the place I go to sleep and spend some time with some loving feline companions. The kitchen goes unused for the most part, and the living room is barren, save for a TV, a recliner, and some strewn about cat toys.
Instead of doing what I normally do, which is get naked and crash on my bed, I clean my cats’ food and water bowls and refill them. I vacuum the entire apartment, top to bottom, not only because it’s something that needed to be done but to quell the faint sensation in the back of my head that Declan would somehow find where I live and knock on my door asking to spend the night.
Sadly, I instead get a call from my mother.
“Callie!! How are you, sweetie”, she screams in her ever-chipper voice.
Trying not to groan, I greet her in a calm, civil manner. “I’m alright, Ma. Just finished a catering job. Feeling beat, might hit the hay soon.”
“Aw, I’m so proud of you. Why don’t you come over and tell me all about it? Dad’s been missing you and--”
“Jacob”, I cut her off. “He’s not my dad. He’s just the guy you’re with.”
“Honey, he really wishes you’d be more accepting”, she groans.
“I’m absolutely accepting. I’m just not going to call him something he’s not. He didn’t raise me. He didn’t, you know, ‘make’ me. He’s not my dad.”
She sighs. “Fine. He’s not your dad. He still cares about you and wants to know how you’re doing. I do, too. You fall of the face of the earth for days at a time, and it’s like you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“I just… Is Jake going to be there?”
“Yeah, he’s off work tomorrow.”
That only makes me want to stay home and sleep. Seeing my mom is fine. Seeing Jacob is tolerable. But Jake is insufferable. I’d rather lick all of the bathrooms in Grand Central Station than spend time with that clown. Unfortunately, I can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s one rejection from her only daughter away from breaking down into tears.
“Alright. Want to have breakfast together”, I ask with a sigh.
“That sounds wonderful, honey!”
And with that, plans were made. The following morning, I wake up supremely early to make the exhausting drive over to The Dennings residence. Mom eagerly awaits at the front door in some yoga pants and a zip-up sweater lined with bright neon colors.
“Come on in, Callie!! I’m so happy to see you, my darling! Look at you, you look so good”, she exclaims.
“You’re one to talk. Married life has been treating you well the second time around, huh?”
She laughs. “Well, now that I’m not working, I have more time to take care of myself. I run every morning, do yoga. I’m like a Hollywood mom now!”
It truly is a sight to see. Since I was born, my mom has always been a noticeably overweight. The stress of working two jobs and having to raise a kid by herself kept her from maintaining her appearance, and resulted in a variety of health problems. But now, one husband later, she seems 100 pounds lighter and happier than she’s ever been. It’s good to see her like this. I always feared she’d die feeling resentful towards me, but that doesn’t have to be a late night worry for me anymore.
“Food’s almost ready”, Jacob shouts from inside the mansion.
My mother grabs me by the hand and leads me through the extravagant manor. I’ve only been here a handful of times before but I’m always astounded by the amount of wealth my mother is surrounded by.
“Amelia, Callie, come on in”, Jacob insists as he grabs our plates of food. “Callie, eat all you want, I made plenty… Maybe even too much”, he chortles.
The three of stand by the kitchen island and eat from the plates on the counter. I feel a slight unease knowing that there’s one person who has yet to make an appearance at this breakfast.
“Where’s Jake”, I ask.
“He doesn’t like to be woken up. He’ll come down once he’s up and you two can catch up”, Jacob tells me, clueless of my feelings towards his son. “So, Callie, do tell. What have you been up to?”
Relieved that I don’t have to be bothered by Jake immediately after arriving, I tell my mom and Jacob about my life as of late. Sad to say, that aside from a variety of job offers, I haven’t had much happen to me that’s worth mentioning. Working at the bakery has taken up the majority of my time. Any free time I have ends up being used by rest.
“You should try to get out more, honey, you don’t want to work yourself to death”, my mom warns me. “There’s more to life than working at a bakery.”
“Right, but it’s work that I like to do, I’m good at it, and it pays the bills.”
“You know you don’t have to pay your own bills”, Jacob reminds me. Since he married my mom, he’s offered me hefty allowance. I’ve always refused because it felt like a power move. Trying to buy my love so that I wouldn’t outwardly act nasty towards him in front of my mom.
“I like being able to sustain myself, but thanks, Jacob. I do appreciate the offer.”
The jingle of keys absorbs the room’s attention. Miranda getting ready to leave.
“Oh, shit, Callie. What are you doing here?”
Jacob intercepts the question. “Amelia invited her for breakfast. Would you like to join us?”
“Pass”, Miranda rudely answers. “By the way, Jake isn’t feeling too well. He was wondering if you could bring him up some breakfast.”
“What is he, a five year old? He can’t come down himself”, I ask.
Miranda leans over to me. “He’s not feeling too well. Maybe if you were his real sister, you’d actually care.”
“Miranda”, both parents shout.
“Later, steppy”, Miranda mumbles, twisting her open palm on my hair, ruining it.
“Miranda, would you..”, Jacob frustratedly tries to get her attention, to no avail. Miranda exits the house and noisily speeds out of the driveway.
“Same old Miranda, huh”, I comment.
Jacob incorrectly interprets my quip as a sentiment of sadness. “You are Jake’s real sister. You may not be blood related, but you--”
I stop him short so as to not listen to that drivel any further. “Jacob, it’s fine. I literally do not care one bit about what either Miranda or Jake think of me. I almost didn’t come because I knew Jake would be here.”
“You two just haven’t gotten to know each other all that well. Why don’t you go bring him his plate of breakfast”, my mom urges.
Knowing I’d be fighting a losing battle, I agreed to her request. Even though I knew I’d hate every second of this interaction. Every single interaction I have with Jake ends with me feeling humiliated or disgusted. He’s groped me, tried kissing me, taking upskirt pictures of me. Once, I stepped out of the shower to find that so
mebody had taken my clothes and towel. Waiting outside was Jake with his phone in one hand and his dick in the other.
“I’ll be watching this one a lot”, he remarked.
This guy is a fucking creep and being forced to interact with him is a hell I can’t properly describe. Knowing he has videos and pictures of me sends shivers of disgust all over my body. He is the only person that’s masturbating to me regularly, and he’s legally part of my family.
As I walked down the hallway to Jake’s room carrying a bed tray, I pondered what I’d have to look out for. Would I walk in on him masturbating to a video of me? Will he try to get me to touch him in some way? I knock on his door and prepare myself for disgust.
“Come on in”, he shouts.
“My hands are kind of full, Jake, can you open the door for me?”
I hear him groan like a child who was just told he’d be going to the dentist, followed by some heavy footsteps. He opens the door and without saying a word to me, climbs back into bed. He must actually be sick.
“Do you want me to leave the tray next to your bed so you can eat it later”, I ask him.
“No, I’ll try to get some of this inside me. Just lay it down on top of me, please.”
Seeing him unable to even open his eyes for too long made me sympathize with him for the first time. He went from being pathetic and abhorrent to just being sad. I lean over the side of the bed and bend over to lay the tray down carefully over his body. Unfortunately, my chest ends up on top of the plate of food, staining my shirt.
As if a switch had been flipped, Jake springs up and starts fondling my tits viciously.
“Let me get that for you”, he quipped as drool started forming around his lips. I recoiled from his grasp and ran back out into the hallway.
“You fucking asshole.”
“You want me to fuck your asshole? Alright, baby, if you insist.”
I slam the door behind me, feeling the same wave of humiliation and hate I experience after each meeting with Jake. That piece of shit of a human being refuses to act as though we’re related. Jacob wants nothing but for me to call him “Dad”, yet Jake won’t even think of considering me his legal sister. Part of me wonders if he doesn’t care about our legal familial bond or if he’s just sick in the head. The only person I could ask is Miranda and there’s a very slim chance I’d ever bring this up with her.
Rooms whizz by past me as I speed-walk towards the front door. My mom notices how quickly I’m walking and tries to block my exit.
“Where are you going, honey”, she asks.
“Sheila just called me. She lost the keys and we open in a couple of minutes, so I have to head down. I’m sorry about this”, I speedily explain.
Jacob puts his hand around her. “That’s a shame. Well, whenever you’re free next, you should come on by. We’ll catch up properly.”
“Fine”, I sharply shout before leaving the premises and running back into my car.
As I tear down the street, I scream at the top of my lungs. I fucking hate Jake. I hate seeing him, I hate being unable to tell Jacob or my mom about what a disgusting freak he is, in fear that he’ll post the pictures and videos he has of me. From day one, I’ve done nothing but treat him with respect and try to be like a sibling to him. But that’s never been reciprocated. Without fail, each time we have been alone, he’s attempted to harass me in one way or another. Thankfully, he’s never gotten past touching over clothing, but the fucker has seen me naked. He’s filmed me naked. Jake is a creep and I hope his actions have consequences one day.
My phone rings. It’s Sheila. Coincidentally enough, the lie I told my mom to get out of her house ended up becoming a reality.
“Don’t worry, Sheila. I’m heading over there now”, I assure her.
“Oh, by the way, I heard the bakery’s phone ringing non stop for a couple of minutes while I was trying to find my keys”, she tells me.
Try as I may, I can’t think of a single reason the phone would be ringing before we even open. Unless it’s a wrong number or an impatient senior citizen, we do get some of those before hours of operation.
At the bakery, Sheila greets me with open arms and apologizes for losing her keys. Despite it being the third time this year that Sheila has lost the bakery’s keys, I brush it off. I’m still reeling from the encounter with Jake. I don’t want him to be the reason at one of my closest friends, though I do have to talk to her about the importance of not losing the keys. But another time. For now, we open, and I check the caller ID to find out who was calling us. It’s not a regular customer. But it’s a nearby area code. I call the number while Sheila starts up the ovens and am greeted by a familiar voice.
“The baker of Baker Street. Thanks for calling me back.”
“Declan”, I gasp, “How-- how’d you get this number?”
“Taryn called me to pick up a box of cupcakes you left for me. And I thought I should thank you personally, so… thank you, Callie.”
I struggle to say anything. His sudden re-entry in my life completely blindsided me. I was so full of rage and now I’m hit by a wave of excitement. Switching gears emotionally took me a bit longer than I hoped.
“Callie, you there?”
“I’m here”, I finally announce. “You’re welcome.. For the cupcakes. I’m glad they didn’t go to waste.”
I hear him laugh. “They absolutely did not. I ate them all in one sitting, believe it or not.”
The two of us are left in silence again. I’d really like to see him one more time, but asking him outright might turn him off to the idea, especially since he told me about his not-so recent but very emotionally damaging breakup. I don’t want him to think of me as insensitive, but I don’t want him to hang up without agreeing to a date or… something.
“Hey--”
“Hey--”
We both wait for the other to finish their thought, and end up in a battle of attrition, insisting the other person goes first.
“Fine”, Declan says laughing. “I’ll go. I was just wondering if I could hire you? It’s not a big job, but I’ll gladly pay your regular fee for catering. I’d just like to have a birthday cake made by the best baker I’ve ever met.”
“Oh. Sure. I can do that.” I try not to sound as disappointed as I am. He wants to see me again, but only for my food. “When’s your birthday?”
“In two days”, he answers. “And I was wondering if you’d also want to come as a guest. It won’t be anything big. Just a little birthday dinner.”
A birthday dinner. Nothing big. Without jumping to conclusions, I think of what exactly this birthday dinner would consist of. If it’s nothing big, wouldn’t he just celebrate with his closest friends and family? Why would he invite someone he’s only talked to once at a party.
“How many people will be there”, I ask.
“Hm. Counting you and me… Two.” He laughs softly. “It’d just be you and me. If that’s alright. I’m sorry to spring this out of nowhere, I just--”
“I’ll be there.”
He pauses, surely surprised that I agreed without hesitation. “You will be?”
“Absolutely.”
“Perfect”, he says. “I’m excited to see you. I’ll send you the details in a bit. Thanks, Callie. Here I was thinking I’d be spending my birthday by myself, and now I get to spend it with a gorgeous baker.”
...Did he say gorgeous?
Goodness, I don’t know what I’ll even wear to this date but I know what I won’t be wearing. Underwear. I’m not taking any chances. As much as I hate to say it, my mother was right about me spending too much time at the bakery and not socializing enough. This is my first date in years and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure it ends in success.
Chapter 3 - Declan
Movies, TV shows, books, music, I’ve tried everything there is to try and I still haven’t found a way to get Callie out of my head. It’s obsessive and it worries for various reasons.
For starters
, being obsessive about a person you’ve only interacted with once couldn’t possible be categorized as healthy. Secondly, I don’t want to come off as a creep. I was lucky enough to not stutter the entire time I was talking to her over the phone, trying to get her to agree to a date, and even that wasn’t a flawless interaction. I lied to Callie about my birthday, and now I have to spend this entire evening hoping that I don’t forget for even a second that I’ve led Callie to believe otherwise.
Lying about my birthday was the best way to break the horrible silence we endured. Had I kept thinking about it, Callie probably would have hung up the phone. I was so proud of myself for not having given into my lust and desires by leaving Taryn’s baby shower without saying a word to anyone, but that was just a total mistake. I should have stuck around the party and gotten to know Callie better. Not only would I have been rewarded with less stale cupcakes, but I probably would have driven her home, or back to my place.
Two Bad Bosses_An MFM Menage Romance Page 32