I loved every ounce of Brazil, but the looming threat of Thomas getting released has me on edge. He won’t come for me; it’s not that kind of fear. He’s nothing more than a drunk, who has no life in or out of prison. But he deserves to stay in prison.
How can they let him out on good behavior after murdering a decorated officer?
The thought haunts me as I get ready for work. I already have an appointment with the corrections facility for next week. I need to ignore that until it’s right in front of me.
Back at work, I try to focus on the task at hand and the positives, clearing my head of the troubles stirring inside. We’re safe; our new home is more than I could ever ask for, I just got back from a brilliant vacation and now I get to go work in a kitchen that is stocked to the brim with all new appliances.
I arrive at work to see Avery turning on the ovens. “Wow.”
Avery walks towards me, wiping his hands on a towel. “Wow is right.” He looks me over and smirks. “You got tan.”
“My boyfriend took me to Brazil.” I smile brightly.
“Boyfriend?” He half laughs as he walks over to me, his face serious.
“Yes?” I gesture around the room. “I really love the new equipment!” Why would he laugh about me having a boyfriend?
His smile returns. “It’s wonderful! They work perfectly. I’ve been prepping the space to teach you how to make my favorite. Éclairs.”
I squeal. These lessons will give me a skill I’ll utilize throughout my life.
Avery guides me to a table where a plate of freshly made éclairs sits. “First, we will taste some I made this morning so you can get the flavor profile.”
I take a large bite of one with a moan while Avery watches me with satisfaction. “So good!” The made from scratch ingredients change the game.
“Come, here’s your station.” He gestures to a steel top filled with ingredients. “Get started on the dough, while I start on the chocolate. I know you already know how to melt it down.” He smiles as he makes his way to the burners.
I wash my hands vigorously and get to work. I gasp when his body presses against my back as I roll the dough. I go to move but he pushes in.
“In France, we let the wrist do all the work and the hands are just helpers,” He whispers quietly into my hair. He brings his hands into mine as he kneads the dough with me. It begins to form better.
“Oh, so I just need a little more elbow grease,” I mumble in an uncomfortable tone as I try to wiggle out. I like that he’s a hands-on teacher, so I can learn better. But he doesn’t need to have his body against mine.
“You’re so good at this.” He murmurs in a low voice as he leans further in. “A natural.” His voice is breathy.
To my disgust, something hard press into my back. I gasp and turn quickly. His hands are on the counter when I face him. He’s holding me in. Trapping me. I look around Avery’s shoulder, desperate to find an escape. “Excuse me.”
A sly grin adorns his face. He tilts his head, studying me. “Don’t move. There’s so much more my hands can teach you.” He smirks.
My stomach drops and I shake my head. “I think I’ve had enough for today. This is wildly inappropriate. I have a boyfriend.” I remind him with a stern, and mildly shaky voice.
He chuckles. “Your little boyfriend isn’t here though, is he? I’m sure I can show you a better time.” I almost laugh at his audacity but I’m too scared.
His accent grows heavier as his voice raises to a poisoned tone. “Oh, come on. You’ve been flirting with me ever since you came. Why do you think I hired you with no experience? You were practically begging for it with that dress you wore during your interview.” He leans further in.
The cold metal counter against my back makes me shiver. I look around the room, hoping to see one of the girls. But to my dismay, I remember no one was around when I came in.
I smile shakily at Avery. When I feel him relax, I swiftly knee him in the balls, satisfied when he doubles over and falls to the ground. I rush outside and look around for Howard. I smile when I see him hurrying my way.
Standing in at an intimidating height, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding when he gets to me. “Howard.” I cry, throwing my arms around him.
He stands stiff, not returning the gesture until I sob into his chest. His movements are awkward as he wraps one arm around me. He stares at me in confusion when I step back.
“Can we go home?” I ask, I’m breaking. Too much is happening to me.
He looks me over worriedly. The act is fatherly, not so much of a bodyguard. “Why?” He sounds skeptical, his thick eyebrows bunching up.
I think for a moment. “I got sick and it made me upset?” I lie.
He laughs before gesturing to the phone in my shaking hands. “Call him.”
“No.” I want to laugh, thinking of how bad an idea that is. But my body is still shaking from what just happened.
Howard shrugs. “Then, I will.”
I sigh before hesitantly dialing his number from my phone. I look over at Howard and narrow my eyes. “I’ll get you for this.”
He laughs, before surprising me when he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder as I wait for Aiden to answer the call.
“Hey gorgeous.”
Relief overwhelms me when I hear his voice. Unable to contain my heavy emotions, I sob into the phone.
“Hey, woah. Babe? What’s happening? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath and collect myself. “Yes. I’m fine,” I mumble quietly. “Howard made me call you.”
“Why?” His tone clipped. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
Howard speaks up, “Speaker.”
I try to cover the phone but it’s too late.
Aiden’s voice booms through the phone. “Emilia, what the fuck is going on? Why did he say, speaker? Put the damn phone on speaker!”
I press the button, flipping Howard off with my free hand.
“I’m here, boss.” Howard looks at the phone, ignoring my rude gesture.
“What happened?”
I want so badly to hang up the phone, not wanting to bother him with this mess.
“She flew out of the front door in tears, I figured you’d want to stop by and see what happened. She wanted me to take her home and not tell you.”
I throw my head back like a defiant teenager.
“What the fuck? I’m already on the way. I’ll be there soon.” He growls into the phone.
∞∞∞
Aiden takes one look at me and makes his way to the bakery.
I chase after him, pulling his arm.
He reluctantly stops outside the door, cupping my face in his hands, and breathes deeply. “You can say whatever you want, but I already know someone in there hurt you. Who was it? Your boss? Or was it a co-worker or customer?”
I sigh, hesitating before looking away.
He holds my face firmly. “Either you tell me what the fuck just happened, or everyone in this building is getting fucked up.” His face red, and his breathing heavy.
“You’re going to be mad,” I state quietly.
“Why?” He tries to stay calm but is failing.