Page 4 of Bratva Claim

“Of course, what are you thinking?”

“Assorted things.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “That’s… incredibly vague.”

He exhales like I’m testing his patience. “What do you suggest then, Mrs. Graves?”

“Uh, it’s Miss, and that depends. Do they have any allergies? Preferences?”

“Was I supposed to take a tally of that information?” I can’t tell if he’s being serious or a smartass. “No allergies. They’ll eat what they’re given.”

Should I be calling the work labor board on this man?

He made it sound like he makes his employees work in a sweatshop.

“How about a mix of our bestsellers? Maple pecan scones, double chocolate muffins, jalapeño cheddar bagels?—”

“Yes.”

I pause. “Yes to what?”

“All of it.”

I shake my head, scribbling down the order. “You’re easy to please.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

I don’t know why that makes my stomach flip, but it does. “Alright, I can have everything ready for tomorrow morning.”

“Good. I’ll see you at?—”

“Oh, it won’t be me,” I interrupt quickly because I can’tgo through the embarrassment of being an idiot again. “I’m… I have plans.”

“Plans,” he says as if rolling the word around in his head and dissecting it. “You don’t work tomorrow?”

“I do, but?—”

“Then, since you know where you’re going, you won’t be late.”

My brows clash together. “I’m unavailable. But I can assure you that our deliveries are one of our top priorities.”

“Miss Graves, have you ever had an office full of starving people? They get anxious.”

“Are… they not allowed to eat in the office?”

“No.”

I pluck up my cell phone from the counter and begin searching labor laws. “Um… that’s unfortunate.”

“It would be if someone got lost and didn’t bring them their pastries. I’d have a riot on my hands.”

“I’m surprised that hasn’t happened yet.”

“What was that?”

Shit.

“I apologize. A customer was trying to talk to me.”