Love Forgiven

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“Adalia, you’re treading on thin ice here.” Hubbard pointed his finger right under her nose and waggled it around, spreading the smell of baking cake through the kitchen. “I told you I wanted these Black Forest cakes ready and they’re not, are they?”

“Mr. Hubbard, I apologize but –”

“Are they?” he repeated, frowning at her, daring her to give him lip. God, she wished she could, but she had to keep this crappy job.

“Not yet, sir.”

“Then what are you doing chatting up customers in my shop?”

It wasn’t technically his shop, it was Annie’s, but he liked to strut around as if he owned the place. That was what sleeping with the boss got you. If you had no morals, of course.

“I wasn’t chatting him up, sir. He paid me a surprise visit. I assure you, I had no intention of –”

Hubbard raised a palm to her face then clipped his fingers and thumb together to make a ‘talking’ motion. “Yeah, I’m hearing too much of this. You need to get back to work and get those cakes out of the damn oven. Don’t let me hear you giving Melanie cheek again, either. She’s above you, and you need to accept that.”

Adalia glared at him for a minute, but softened her gaze slowly. She wouldn’t stoop to this guy’s level. He obviously had an inferiority complex – maybe he was bullied as a child or something, who knew?

“Yes sir, understood.” She gave him a winning smile, and his frown deepened. “I’ll get back to work.”

Mr. Hubbard charged out of the kitchen and the doors swung shut behind him then rebounded again.

Melanie traipsed in with an expression of smug satisfaction on her mug. She chewed and chewed and chewed on that damn gum. “You talk to the big boss?”

“Yes,” Adalia said, gritting her teeth and strolling to the ovens. She checked the timer, then switched it off and brought out the cakes, one-by-one. Melanie burned a hole in the back of her head as she worked, but she didn’t turn around and talk to her.

“You think you’re better than me or somethin’?” Melanie growled between lip smacks.

“Pardon?” Adalia tipped the cakes out onto cooling trays and went to wash her hands. She scrubbed them, running the water loud to block out the manager’s inquiries.

“Hey,” Melanie yelled over the rushing water from the faucet. “I asked if you think you’re better than me.”

Adalia sighed and turned to face the younger woman, who had dark brown hair and a lurid pink streak through the front of it. That was the fashion with teenagers nowadays, and Melanie couldn’t be a day over nineteen.

Her mascara was badly smudged at the corners of her eyes, and had formed clumps in the middle of her eyelids.

Did Adalia think she was better than Melanie? No, she didn’t think she was better than anyone, and that was the God honest truth. She was definitely a better baker than Melanie and that was what grated her the most.

“Answer my question or I’ll go talk to Mr. Hubbard again.”

The girl had to be insecure to take this much of an issue with a snappy comment.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think I’m better than you, Melanie. I think everyone’s equal and that’s the difference between your view point and mine.”

“What’re you trying to say?” Melanie spat her gum into the trash can next to the door and pulled herself up to sit on the counter.

“Nothing that really matters anymore. Just that I have work to do, and I’m sure you do too.” If that wasn’t amicable in the face of severe irritation, then what was?

Melanie narrowed her eyes and mulled her words over for a few minutes, then gave up on figuring the sentiment out and gave a snort. “Whatever, just get them Black Forest cakes done, y’hear?”

“Sure,” Adalia replied, “just waiting for them to cool.”

The other woman slid off the counter and clomped out of the kitchen again. Peace and quiet at last. Adalia let out a relieved sigh and rested her forehead against the fridge to cool it.

There was too much pressure building and now she’d agreed to a date with DeShawn to top it all off. Friday night. Maybe she could dig her way to China by Friday night. Or somehow raise enough money to take a bus out of the city. Who was she kidding with that?

If she left, he’d damn well follow her. The guy was persistent.

Riiiiiiing.

Her phone tinkled to life in her pocket and she gave a beleaguered sigh. That had to be DeShawn, calling to confirm. She brought it out, clicking the green button without checking the ID.

“Yes? Now’s not the time, as I’m sure you know.” Adalia leaned against the steel fridge some more, bathing her nostrils in the scent of cooling cake.

“Adalia, it’s so good to hear your voice again.” It was Trent. Trent Dawson was on the phone with her. Her heart raced for a moment, and she gripped the phone tight.

“What do you want?” she snapped. “What do you actually want this time, Trent?”

“Jesus, relax,” he said, then chuckled. “I see you haven’t changed in the past couple months.”

“Oh, I’ve changed all right.” She didn’t elaborate on the point. He didn’t need any information about her life, just like she didn’t need any about his. She’d had more than enough of this.

“I wanted to talk to you about something serious, and I thought I’d call, since you probably wouldn’t like it if I popped in for a visit.”

Adalia glanced around at the kitchen and a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She clicked her low slung heels on the linoleum and shaded her eyes from the fluorescents.

“You don’t know where I am.”

“I figured you’d be at your father’s place. I looked up his address, but yeah, I didn’t want to risk it.”

“You realize I can just hang up on you anyway.”

“Sure, but then you’d miss out on the opportunity I’ve got for you.” Trent oozed confidence, but Adalia didn’t buy it for a second. She knew him too well by now. His voice held a slight tremble, which meant he was nervous about this.

He didn’t let on much weakness, but she was tuned into it now, to break past that alpha shell and to the truth beyond.

Adalia charged to the door and checked on Melanie through the window. The girl twirled her gum around her finger and chatted up a couple of teenage boys who’d entered the store. Mr. Hubbard stood in the background, fiddling on his smartphone.

“Adalia?”

“Get to the point, please.”

“Right. I’d like you to cater a few functions for my company. We’ve got several events coming up, and I’d be happy to have you on the team for them.”

Adalia laughed until tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I want some more of those chocolate buns.”

“How dare you say that to me?” Adalia slammed her fist onto the countertop then instantly regretted it. Melanie’s attention flinched from the boys to the kitchen door and back again.

“What are you talking about? I’m offering you a great chance to get ahead here, maybe get back on track with your bakery idea.”

“Trent, I don’t need your damn help. You never got that! Not for as long as we knew each other, you just didn’t understand that I don’t need you.” She’d lost control of the situation. He did that to her – it was some emotional manipulative gift he possessed that drove her over the edge every single time and she was sick of it.

“Adalia,” he started.

“I’ll tell you what, Trent. Why don’t you ask Michelle Van Heerden to bake for your events, because I am not interested.” She pulled the phone from her ear and hung up, then tossed it into her purse under the counter.

Adalia turned back to her cakes, heart as heavy as lead.