“No. I will do it now.” He steps up beside me and reaches into the cupboard beside me to retrieve the plates.
“Sorry, Star, this will not be a fun experience for either of us,” he says in a low voice and I hope beyond all reason that Sir can’t hear him.
What more can I do but give him a small smile, it’s weak and lacking any warmth. In all honesty, it’s probably more of a grimace, but I can’t muster any other kind of response. A shiver passes through me as he leaves the room, I just hope it’s unwarranted.
“Are you nervous about your appointment tomorrow, Miss Carter?”
“I am.” Deep breath, I just need to find my composure and safe place. I don’t even know what that is anymore. “I’m excited, which I guess is strange, but this is just so important to me.”
“You’re passionate about your craft. If only more people were like you. I’ve known my fair share of people who have a similar outlook, and most of them have gone on to do great things. Unfortunately, not everyone can make it in this world. I wonder which side of the toss you will fall on.” His footsteps on the floor sound like a death march to my ears. I know he’s coming closer. All I want is for Emmet to hurry up and get back in here.
“I hope so too,” I say with a sigh. I am worried. Worried I haven’t got what it takes to start a business, or worse, to make it succeed.
“Did you know my family struggled when I was a boy? There were eight of us in a three bed house, and one of those rooms could barely be classed as a bedroom.” He stands beside me and I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. “My father inherited the Academy from my mother’s father. His own family disowned him when they viewed my mother as too low on the food chain. He made it what it is today, and it’s only grown since.”
“Why...” I can’t finish that question, let alone start it. This is dangerous territory, and I don’t know how to navigate it.
“Why did it go to me and not her? Because her father was a very old fashioned man who believed that women shouldn’t be in a position of power, let alone in charge of anything other than an oven, or washing machine.” He scoffs and I don’t know why he’s being so forthcoming on all of this. “I don’t agree with him, which is why, after I completed my time at the Academy, I started the organization that every person will recognize in one way or another. My point is, the boys may not understand you, but I do.” I can’t help but look at him and I can see him lifting his hand right as Emmet strolls back into the room.
“The table is all set. Why don’t you go and take a seat, father? You shouldn’t have to serve yourself.” He should remove that scowl from his face, even though right now I could kiss him for walking in when he did.
Sir gives me one last lingering look before he moves into the dining room. Leaving me alone with Emmet, and I feel as though I can finally breathe again.
“Is everything okay?” He’s giving me a strange look, as though he walked in on something he shouldn’t, and I hate it.
“I’m... I’m handling it the only way I know how,” I say quietly, as I dish up the food. We make our way into the dining room that has even less soul than the rest of the place. Or at least, what I’ve seen of it.
I take my seat beside Emmet, and as far from Sir as I can get. I don’t like how his eyes are trained on me, but I can’t believe it’s because he wants me. Sure, everything is pointing in that direction, but I’m not Selene. As far as I can tell, other than looks, we are two completely different people. That, and I’m young enough to be his daughter. I know age is just a number, but that is a huge pass from me.
We are eating in silence, and nothing but the sounds of forks hitting the plates can be heard. I wonder if I’m the only one feeling uncomfortable right now. It’s times like these that I wish I could read minds, especially where Emmet is concerned. I don’t even know if he’s still angry with me, and although, I want Sir to leave, I don’t want Emmet to go back to ignoring me once we’re alone again. Then what do you want to happen? If only I knew, brain, if only I knew.
Ten minutes later and Sir places his fork down on the plate, stands up, and leaves the room. He hasn’t said a damn thing, what does it mean?
“What’s going on?” I ask softly and Emmet copies Sir’s actions and gets to his feet.
“I’m not sure, leave the plates and go up to your room while I find out. It’s in your best interests, believe me.”
“I feel rude just going upstairs, without even saying goodbye to him.” I roll my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Still preferable to what you could be feeling, believe me. My father is great at invoking all kinds of negative emotions and reactions in people. Now, go upstairs, I won’t tell you again.”
He leaves the room, and although it’s against my better judgement, I do as he says.
I waited two hours before going downstairs last night to find the entire place empty. This seems to be a trend with Emmet, and I guess I just have to accept that. Today is different though, it’s for me and my dream. I am filled with equal measures of excitement and nervousness beyond belief. I have been dressed for hours, but I haven’t gone downstairs yet.
I keep going over my plan and checking for any issues. I don’t doubt they’ll ask something that I won’t be able to answer, but hopefully this will be enough.
“Star, are you ready?” he calls through the door. I can’t believe the relief that is coursing through me right now because he used my nickname. Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all. Hopefully, he’ll tell me why he got so worked up, at least I’ll know what to avoid in the future if he does.
I brush my hands over my skirt one last time before opening my door. But he must have already gone downstairs. I descend the stairs, to find him sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal, and a cup of coffee.
“Help yourself to breakfast, we’ll be leaving in thirty minutes,” he says, as he reads… a newspaper.
“Thank you.” I grab myself a bowl and take a seat beside him, wondering if this is how the rest of our stay in New York is going to go.
“Are you all set for the meeting?”
“I think so. I was going to ask if you’d have a look at what I have prepared, but I wasn’t sure what you would say.” I tuck my hair behind my ears, before pulling it up into a high ponytail.
“I suppose I have some time, if you have it with you.” This is so damn formal. I don’t like it. You can’t have everything your own way, you’re on his turf now.
I place it on the island and he looks it over while I tuck into my bran flakes. It tastes like cardboard, but at least it’s healthy. Why is that a good thing? I have no idea, but it felt like the right choice before I started to eat it.
“Without knowing what they will discuss with you, it is good. I don’t see a mission statement though, was that left out deliberately?” He glances at me, and he seems genuinely curious.
“Umm, no. I didn’t realize I needed one, or what it is, if I’m completely honest with you.”
“It’s simple, really. It explains, in a limited number of words, what your business’ overall goal will be, why it exists. Another way to look at it is, it’s a way to explain how your bakery will be different from the rest. Do you have anything in mind?” he asks, and I take a few mouthfuls as I try to work out what mine could be.