Page 21 of Semi Sweet (Working For Love #1)

M y brain initially told me to lie and say I’d been asked to get something from the bakery and when no one was there, I took it upon myself to look. I couldn’t do it. Instead, I crept over to him, feeling like I might be sick. I knew what would happen if he was found snooping in my department.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what possessed me to come back here. It will never happen again.”

I got ready to squeeze past him and run back to the safety of my courtesy desk when I realized that the top of my head ended at his chin.

Just like it had with the person I’d kissed by the bus stop.

I reached up, placing my palm on his cheek, imagining what his face would have looked like with a black domino mask in front of his dark brown eyes.

His skin felt the same under my fingers. There was no denying it.

“Of course,” I said breathlessly, watching him momentarily shut his eyes in response to my touch. “How could I be such an idiot?”

I suddenly felt like crying and I wasn’t sure why.

He had seen me cry far more times than I currently wanted to think about, so I decided it was time to make a break for it.

I didn’t care if Beth, Max, Bruce, or even Evan saw me escape from the back of the bakery at this point, I just needed a minute to process everything.

I made it about two steps before I felt his hand on my wrist. I stared down at his hand, remembering that he’d done the same thing at the party.

“I can explain,” he said softly. “But not here.”

I nodded, wondering if it was because he didn’t want the wrong person to overhear or if the story was so long, we’d both get in trouble. The minute he let me go, I all but ran back to the front end. I’d been so preoccupied, I was shocked to see Russel manning my post and not someone else.

“What the hell, did you fall in?” he demanded.

I could not think of an excuse that wasn’t more ridiculous than the truth or at least a bent version of it. “Someone in the bakery had a question about something. Instead of calling, they just pulled me aside.”

“How thoughtful of you both,” Russel deadpanned. “Hope you aren’t expecting a break, because you just had one.”

“Fair enough.”

Russel must have expected more of a struggle because he raised an eyebrow at me. “Is there something wrong with you?”

You have no idea. I merely shrugged my shoulders. I was grateful when he left so I could have hours to fight with my thoughts. Or that was my plan until the phone rang. It was an inside line.

“Courtesy desk,” I answered.

There was a brief pause before a calm voice made my stomach flip-flop. “It’s me.” I did not understand how he wasn’t freaking out like I was.

“Hi.” My voice was an octave higher than normal. I was definitely not calm.

“I said I would explain,” he said. “Do you have class tonight?”

“Yes,” I squeaked.

“Skip it. Just this once. Meet me somewhere.”

I thought about it. I had class until almost eight and wondered if it would seem strange if I came home a bit early or late. Would meeting Sean mean I was really cheating? What were my feelings on all of this? I told myself that I needed to know the truth and I vowed it would not be more than that.

“Okay,” I finally replied.

“Can you write an address down?”

I grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper and scribbled the address of a place up in Highland.

We agreed to meet at six-thirty before I hung up the phone.

I let out a breath as I stared down at the address.

I’d never skipped a class before, not even senior skip day in high school.

I guessed there was a first time for everything.

***

I was too nervous to study in my usual booth so after I got off work, I changed and rode the train up to Highland. I hunkered down in a library until it was closer to six-thirty. Not that I was able to focus. My mind kept wandering to the man I was going to meet.

Would I be angry at him? I decided I wasn’t mad at Sean, but mad at myself for not seeing the signs earlier.

If anything, I probably should have been thanking him for bringing some happiness in my sad, confusing life.

But admitting that seemed like a betrayal to Evan.

That’s where I struggled. Evan made me feel like crap, but I’d promised myself to try and make things work because I’d picked him over my family and friends.

When I was too nervous to wait any longer, I typed the address into my phone and the GPS told me it was a five minute walk from the library.

When I arrived at my destination, I was greeted by the sight of people coming and going from a chic looking cafe called Never Too Late For Cake.

Standing in front of the window was an anxious Sean wearing a black fleece jacket with his hands in his pockets.

His brown hair wasn’t hidden under a hat like it usually was.

I’d been too drunk to really notice it last time.

He noticed me approaching and met me by the entrance. “Hey.”

I smiled weakly. “Hi.”

I went to open the door, but he beat me to it and gestured for me to go ahead of him.

The cafe was busy and had tiny tables and wrought iron chairs scattered throughout the dining room.

The waitresses wore uniforms that looked like they were made from upcycled pajamas.

Along one wall was a counter housing a diverse spread of baked goods and finger foods, much more aligned with the cupcakes that Sean had been making.

Anything sold at Cash Value Market seemed plain and ordinary in comparison.

“Table for two?” a hostess asked.

Sean nodded. “If you have anything in the back, that would be awesome.”

The hostess guided us behind a hedge of faux greenery where there were about half a dozen more tables and things seemed a bit more subdued. She gave us menus and said she would be back in a few minutes.

“Any particular reason why you spend your entire day in a bakery only to meet me in another one?” I asked as I scanned the menu.

“Research,” he replied. “Also, it’s open late.”

“Research?”

He nodded. “We’re not here to talk about that.”

I found myself blushing as I realized that he was right. The small talk might have been making me less nervous, but was putting off the inevitable.

The waitress returned just as I was getting ready to say something. “What can I get for you two?”

“I’ll have a coffee and a slice of your chocolate cake.” Sean replied.

“German or traditional?”

Without hesitation, he answered, “Traditional, please.”

The waitress turned her sights on me. “How about you, sweetie?”

“I’ll take coffee as well.” I scanned the menu one last time. “How about a slice of pie? Do you still have cherry?”

The waitress explained they baked twice a day before she dashed away, saying she’d have everything shortly. I looked over at Sean, who was studying me with an amused look on his face.

“What?”

“No cupcake?” he asked.

It hadn’t even dawned on me. “I typically get a note of some kind from my usual cupcake supplier,” I eventually countered. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

The waitress excused herself as she placed two large teal mugs of coffee in front of us, followed by generous slices of our ordered desserts.

I was probably too nervous to eat, but I noticed Sean dug right in, having several forkfuls before taking a small memo pad and pen from his jacket pocket and writing several bullet pointed sentences in his sloppy script.

“What are you doing?”

Still writing and tasting, he answered, “Research.”

“You realize you’re going to have to explain yourself,” I said as I added cream and sugar to my coffee. “I’m invested now.”

Sean met my eyes, looking mildly embarrassed as he admitted, “I kind of have this life aspiration where I want to make a chocolate cake people travel hours for. My social life has been pretty nonexistent since moving, so I try a piece at the local bakeries and restaurants.”

“Isn’t that like stealing?” I questioned.

He shrugged. “I consider it studying the masters.” He took another bite. “I want to have my own bakery someday.”

I remembered the odd photo I’d seen hanging on the wall by his desk. “Is the photo of that storefront where you want to have your shop?”

“How long were you back there?”

“Long enough to recognize your handwriting. And see your diploma, though a customer spilled those beans.” I quickly explained how the lotto lady had mentioned his connection to her nephew and that had all but confirmed my suspicions.

“I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out before,” Sean admitted. “I slipped up so many times. Max was a terrible secret keeper. Plus, I actually handed you a cupcake once.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean, slipped up?”

“I mentioned my dog in one of the poems and then talked about him when those girls were giving me a hard time about going to the party. And I’m pretty sure you caught me looking at you a couple times.”

I did remember that, but people looked at me all the time. Out of pity or spite, it didn’t matter. I was pretty sure he’d witnessed some of my reactions to what I received. It made me finally ask the question brewing in me for months.

“Why?”

Sean looked at me incredulously. “Seriously, Olivia?

It was the first time since meeting up with him that I remembered my hopeless situation at Cash Value Market.

“No, I need a good answer because I know you are extremely aware of how people feel about me at work. No one likes me or takes me seriously.”

“I’m twenty-seven years old,” Sean said. “I’m able to make my own opinions of people. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. It’s gotten me this far.” When I dropped my eyes to the table and finally took a bite of my pie, he continued, “I thought I made it pretty clear that I like you.”

“May I ask what I did to deserve that?” I realized it might have come out sounding like I was unhappy about his feelings. “I mean I don’t think I’m anything special, not that I think you liking me is bad.”

“I’ve lived here for almost three months. People are either intimidated by me or don’t take me seriously. Which I am sure you can relate to. Olivia, you were kind and welcoming to me.” I noticed his cheeks go pink. “It also helps that you are pretty and really fascinating.”

“Oh Sean, you don’t mean–”

He cut me short. “Olivia, do you know what gaslighting is?”

I stared at him. “Of course I do.”

“Well maybe it’s happened to you for so long that you're not even aware anymore. I see how people treat you at work. You don’t have to deal with that.” He sipped his coffee before adding, “Don’t even get me started on Evan.”

I was grateful we were in the quieter, more private area of the cafe because with how things were going, I wasn’t sure if I was going to get angry or upset. “I know you probably think you know, but you have no idea what is going on in my life.”

“I want to know,” Sean replied. “If you tell me, I’ll listen.”

I started at the beginning, telling him about how I was the second of three daughters and how I’d lived in Denver my whole life.

I was the girl that had big dreams and tried my hardest. I told Sean about how I started working at Cash Value Market at sixteen and how I’d met Evan shortly after.

I described a different person than he was today–a boy full of hope that rode his longboard around the city.

I spilled my guts about how I’d never been with anyone else, that Evan was the only man I ever loved, and how I was convinced that he was my future.

I even confessed that I didn’t know if I loved him anymore and I didn’t know when that disconnect had truly begun.

“The Quitteros have been the same for years. I was just young and distracted at the time,” I explained.

“They still thought they were better than everyone. They still gifted Evan with everything, but I was excited to be along for the ride. My father knew I would never fit in with them. I wasn’t ready to believe him. .”

I described how I had defied my father and how shortly after, Evan got his corporate job and became the version I was attached to today.

I even explained how he went through my mail and squashed my dreams on the daily.

I had done it with a shaking voice and by biting my lip a few times, but I’d gotten it all out.

“If Evan makes you feel that way, why would you agree to marry him?”

I should have expected this question. I held my mug, still warm in between my hands, and tried to think of a strong, proud answer. Instead, my eyes got glassy and I was only able to glance up at him quickly before I gave myself away.

“Because I’m trapped, Sean. Leaving Evan would make me jobless and homeless. He knows it, too.”

“So if he were to hit you or do something terrible, you’d still stay?” He sounded frustrated, not necessarily at me, but like he was trying to understand the situation.

“No!” I retorted indignantly, but realizing Evan already did some terrible things to me, my heart fell. “I don’t know.”

His eyes bounced to a waitress coming through with a tray of desserts before he spoke. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Sean said, “but don’t you think facing your father or crashing on a friend’s couch for a while is a better life than the one you are currently living?”

“I think about facing my father all the time,” I replied, fidgeting with my mug. I’d never said the words out loud before. “I can’t bear to think of what I would do if he rejects me.”

“He’s a fool if he does.”

Once more, I looked into his eyes, trying not to cry. He smiled at me warmly and I found myself trying to figure out why my life mattered to this guy from Aspen so much. “I don’t have any couches to crash on anymore. I’ve burned a lot of bridges and what I didn’t destroy, Evan wrecked for me.”

Sean ripped a page out of his tiny notebook and wrote something before he slid it on the table towards me. It was an address and a phone number. “I have a couch.”

“Sean–”

He shook his head. “Look, I know I mauled you in that bus stop shelter a few weeks ago, but that’s really not me.

I got carried away and drank a bit too much myself.

I’m not looking to steal you from him. Don’t get me wrong, I would love being with you.

I would treat you like you deserve, but it’s a decision you have to come to on your own.

It’s just an offer as a friend. Now you have an option. ”

I could have said so many things. I could have been angry or offended. I could have reached across the table and kissed him. Instead, I admitted, “I’m afraid of how I feel about you.”

It was growing stronger and stronger. If it was tangible, it would have scorched me at the touch.

“I understand,” he answered. “But I’m here for you. Whatever you decide.”