Chapter Nine
1280 Words
Chapter Nine
“What are you doing here, DeShawn?” Adalia took in even breaths, stilling the sudden swell of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.
It was obvious why her ex was there. To hunt her down, cause trouble and exact whatever price he desired.
“I’ve had enough of this. I told you not to come back here again,” Adalia hissed at him, but it was no use – even the student in the far booth had perked up at her ex-boyfriend’s entrance.
“I ain’t ever gonna give up on what we had.” He scratched at his nose with his thumb and sniffed hard.
“You’ll have to, because I’m never taking you back.”
DeShawn side-eyed Michelle and then Trent, then gave a short burst of laughter. “Take me back? b***h, please, I dumped your ass.”
“Maybe in imaginary land,” she said, stifling a snort of disbelief. The cheek of this guy was beyond comprehension, but she should’ve expected no less from him. He was unfathomable to her, as were his motivations, unless of course you counted smoking pot and drinking. Those two were the most obvious.
Otherwise he was a mystery. And not the Trent Dawson kind, no, more like the kind you didn’t want to find out more about because you were too afraid of what you’d find when you popped the lid on the gangster-appareled box.
Adalia searched the room for some escape and the bell over the door chimed again. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it was just one of her regulars, not another remnant from the past.
“Hello, dearie. I’ve come for more of those fantastic chocolate éclairs.”
“Of course, Mrs. Greene, right away,” Adalia answered with a relieved smile and hurried to fulfill the order. Anything to be away from the melting pot of tension waiting to explode.
She carefully boxed the éclairs, taking extra time to create the cut-out cardboard casing herself. DeShawn and Trent stood nearby, staring at her, observing her every move. It was the most awkward experience of her life.
“Here you go, Mrs. Greene,” she said, passing her the white and pink cardboard construction.
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs.Greene murmured, then tapped the side of her nose with a wink. “I would stay to chat, but it looks like you’ve got enough company at the moment.” She shuffled out in her favorite slippers, curlers still tangled in the plum-colored strands of her graying hair.
Adalia longed to call out after her to stay, please God, stay and chat, but she didn’t. Instead, she walked back to her place at the laptop and browsed the Internet.
“Are you gonna talk to me about it?” DeShawn rammed his knuckles onto the counter.
“This guy giving you trouble, Adalia?” Trent asked, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves to reveal defined forearms covered in a fine coating of blond hair.
“Who the hell are you?” DeShawn asked.
“I’m the last man you’ll ever see, that’s who the hell I am.” Trent flashed his even, white teeth.
“There’s too much testosterone in the air,” Adalia said and Michelle actually nodded in agreement. Their gazes met for a second and then flinched away from each other.
“I don’t got time for you, boy, you’d better watch your a*s before I break it for you.”
“Sorry,” Trent said with a chuckle, “but I’m not into guys.”
“Aw, you think you’re funny, right?” DeShawn reached around the waistband of his jeans, and Adalia slapped her hand on the counter hard.
“Don’t you even think of doing what you’re about to, DeShawn. I’ll make you regret it.” She couldn’t keep the panic from her tone, but it still stopped him from drawing his g*n in her bakery.
That stupid pistol. She hated it with all the parts of her soul. She’d never forget the day he came home with it and stood in the kitchen in a d**g-induced stupor, waving the thing around like a mafia boss on c***k.
DeShawn froze and slowly pulled his hand back round to the front. “You expect me to stand down to this punk?” He pointed at Trent, who c****d his head to the side and squared his shoulders.
“I expect you to get the hell out of my bakery.” Adalia picked up her cell and started dialing.
“What are you doing?” DeShawn asked with a hint of fear.
“Calling the cops. You’d better get out of here, now.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” he said, denying it with a low, stupid giggle.
“Hi, yes, I’ve got an armed individual in my bakery.” She paused and listened hard. “A pistol, yes. He’s threatening my customers. I have his name and address, too, if you –”
“Aight, aight, I’m going, just hang up the phone, girl.” DeShawn backed off until his back hit the door. He grappled with the handle behind him, then swung it open and slunk through it.
Adalia placed the phone on the counter again. She’d called her home number, not the cops, but it worked like a charm every time. DeShawn definitely wasn’t the brightest cookie in the jar.
“That’s your ex-boyfriend.” Trent watched him saunter off, without a backward glance. “You chose that guy?”
“How about you leave, too, before I make another call,” she said, laying her hand on the cell again.
He smirked at her. “And what, tell the fake police I’m intruding on your personal space? Get real, Adalia.”
“I have no interest in talking to you, Trent. You’ve been nothing but trouble since the minute you walked into this bakery.”
“Yes, because hiring you was trouble for you.”
“I didn’t ask for your charity, and I certainly don’t need it. Now, get out!” Adalia closed the lid of her laptop with too much force, but she couldn’t control the red hot rage pumping through her veins.
Trent Dawson glared at her, spearing her with daggers of his anger. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again.”
Then he left, closing the door behind him without force. He was in control, every movement measured to avoid rash actions. He was the opposite of DeShawn, but he was just as bad. Wasn’t he?
“You’re so dumb,” Michelle Van Heerden said, slurping on that damn smoothie with relish.
“Huh?”
“Trent Dawson is interested in you and you kick him out of your insignificant bakery? You’re so stupid. So, so, so stupid.” Michelle pronounced each ‘so’ with absolute clarity.
“You can get out, too,” Adalia hissed.
“Oh, I will, gladly. Fortunately I don’t eat carbs, or I’d end up looking like you. Yuk.” She ambled off a few feet, those stilettos biting at the linoleum, but stopped and looked back. “You stay away from Trent. I’ve worked too long and too hard to get him into bed and I won’t let you stand in my way.”
Did that mean she wasn’t his girlfriend?
“I would have thought you’d have managed it already, what with all the experience you have in that department.” It wasn’t thinly veiled, but an insult in its purest form.
But Michelle seemed oblivious. She popped her hip and pouted. “I know, right? But he’s weirdly allergic to my charms or something. Anyway, just stay away from him if you know what’s good for you.”
She disappeared with another ring of the bell.
Adalia slumped into the cushy chair she’d positioned behind the counter for moments like these. Trent wasn’t involved with Michelle and she’d yelled at him, forced him out of her shop.
She slapped her forehead hard. The one guy she’d found unbelievably attractive, the one guy she thought she couldn’t have, was never with Michelle.
And she’d embarrassed him in front of his assistant and another patron.
What was the matter with her?
Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for the whole dating scene. Adalia glanced up and ground her teeth at the memory of Michelle’s threat.
One thing was for sure... there was no backing down now.
If Trent asked her again, the answer would be a resounding ‘yes’.
- Writer
