Page 9 of Semi Sweet (Working For Love #1)

A fter the incident over the writing contest, I spent even less time at home with Evan.

I'd started getting up before he had to leave for work, packing a bag for the day, and not coming home until my shift ended or my class was over for the night.

On the days I didn't have work, I'd find a café or work at the university library until I knew Evan was out of the house and I could go home.

On days that I had to work, I'd stake my table out first thing in the morning, covering every free space with notebooks, highlighters, soda cups, and salad bar dishes.

Today was one of those days where I was determined to be productive before I had to put my uniform on.

"What's on the to-do list today, Princess Q?" Bruce taunted. It was his insult of choice. He and many other employees in various departments referred to Evan's family as "the royal family" because they carried themselves with a certain air. I agreed, but I didn't like being lumped in with them.

"A paper on marketing strategies in other countries, and please don't call me that," I replied without looking up from my computer.

Bruce held a paper plate with a piece of greasy cheese pizza on it as he smiled down at my organized chaos. "What, like the French give a baguette with every business deal?"

I attempted to hide the smirk that wanted to spread across my face. It would only encourage him. "More like gestures and nuance, something you could probably stand to learn more about."

"Whatever you say, Princess Q." Bruce headed to a tall counter with bar stools where most of the employees took their breaks.

"I said..."

"You're wearing his ring," Bruce reminded me. "That means you willingly said yes to being in the royal family."

I heaved a sigh, took the rose gold headphones around my neck, and all but smashed them back on my ears to drown him out. Bruce was nosy and annoying and...right. I was starting to question my engagement more and more each day, especially after Evan's most recent outburst.

It wasn't easy to explain. Someone like Bruce in the grocery department or any of the front end cashiers wouldn't understand.

To a third party, I seemed set for life.

They were envious of all the things I would supposedly have.

Sure, I would be financially stable, but I'd be a lamb among a pack of wolves.

Utterly alone. The way everyone had turned on me or laughed at me to mock Evan only isolated me more.

Surely they had to know the Quitteros were not nice people, despite coming from a humble beginning?

They had to believe they truly thought they were royalty, thus never squashing the ridiculous nicknames and gossip about them.

They treated their employees like second class citizens and acted like I was simple even though I was going to have more college degrees than Evan.

It screamed superiority complex. Egotistical maniacs.

Someone in the deli department swore. The entire department scrambled to frantically organize and clean.

The other service areas must have gotten the vibe that something was going on because soon the entire place was full of anxious energy.

I let out a frustrated groan because that could only mean one thing—a Quittero from corporate was in the building.

Sure enough, Evan walked past the café, en route to the deli department, and spotted me.

My body went into defense mode at the sight of his disapproving face and I would have cursed if it wouldn't have been too obvious.

I didn't realize he was coming to the store today.

The home store was in his jurisdiction, but I could have sworn he had just been here the day before.

After nearly a week of avoiding him, I thought he would have noticed and apologized for yelling at me in public, but he continued to be absorbed in his job, himself, and nothing else.

It seemed that he was oblivious to my feelings, just like he didn't seem to care about anything that made me happy.

"What are you doing?" Evan, as usual, was perfectly groomed.

He'd used product to slick back his hair and his navy suit complemented his complexion.

I was suddenly very aware of my ripped skinny jeans and oversized coral sweater.

Evan and his family probably would have loved for me to wear expensive designer things when I was off the clock, but I liked being eclectic chic.

..when he wasn't scowling at me. I tried to tread lightly.

"I'm getting some work done?" I gestured to all the textbooks sprawled on the table, still listening to my favorite Korean boy band as I turned my attention back to my paper.

Evan shut my laptop, and even though he smiled at me, his eyes didn't look happy.

Once more I fought the urge to be outraged, softening my gaze despite wanting to glare as he said, "Baby, we've been over this.

You have a certain appearance you have to uphold around here.

The future wife of Evan Quittero really shouldn't be listening to bad music and doing her homework for all the customers and employees to see. "

Oh dear God, was he really going to say that? After what he'd done? I had certain appearances to uphold after he had been the one yelling at me? And did he call me baby? Was that his peace offering or a pet name?

"Why does it matter?" I asked. It seemed that I couldn't hold back after all. "Who here even cares what I am to you?"

"It just does," Evan snapped. "I don't have to give you a better reason than that."

"Well, I'd be more apt to listen if you weren't pulling a ‘because I said so’ excuse."

My blood boiled when Bruce turned his bar stool around to face us.

Evan was completely oblivious, continuing to lecture me on how the family driver could drive me anywhere I wanted to work.

He'd buy me anything I wanted if I went to a local coffeehouse, even on the days that I had to work at the store.

Impressions were important. He knew it was hard for me to understand… .

"No, I don't think you understand," I retorted.

So much for attempting to have patience. A glimmer in all of this was that Evan had notice I was working away from home, but I wasn't going to let myself get distracted.

"You're right,” I continued, “we have been over this. I've told you a hundred times that doing my work before my shift keeps me from getting distracted because I have a deadline, but you don't seem to listen. I know how you feel about all the other things I like to do online."

I wasn't sure if I should explain that part of the reason why I was here was because I was angry with him, but what I'd already said seemed to shut Evan up.

That was a bigger argument than me not being proper and sophisticated at work.

Bruce raised his eyebrows, obviously taking ‘things I like to do online’ to a different meaning.

I snapped, "Bruce, so help me God, I will call you every five minutes for my entire shift with obscure price checks if you don't stop eavesdropping."

Evan finally turned to look before Bruce raised his arms in defeat and walked away. "See, if you were anywhere else, no one would be nosy."

Once again Evan lived in a dream world. People were nosy because of what his name was, what we were supposed to be.

"Just don't...like please, enough already."

Evan chuckled and leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "I know you've been mad at me." The gesture was one he would take out in a weak attempt to solace me. It was something he'd started doing once he'd become a corporate guy.

People were talking about you again because I made Russel switch you with someone so you could go to my parents’ anniversary party? Here, have a hair kiss. You wanted sushi, but I'm demanding tacos for the fourth time this month? A peck on the head.

It was the closest I would get to an apology, but in a classy, sophisticated way that wouldn't tarnish his corporate image, especially when we were in public.

I hated it. It just brought further attention to the fact that we never did anything cute like couples were supposed to, even behind closed doors.

"Someday you'll see," he whispered. "All of these stuffy rules and guidelines will be worth it when we're loaded. We'll have the world."

Sometimes when he spoke like that it reminded me of who he used to be. A boy with dreams. I peered up at him. "Okay."

"No class tonight, right?"

I shook my head. "I'll be home after six."

"Looking forward to it." Then he headed to the deli to take care of whatever business he had. I tried to relocate my motivation to get ready for my shift in forty-five minutes. My mind kept wandering back toward my fiancé, my destiny, my life.

I'd been so upset and desperate after the writing contest incident, I'd considered calling my father.

The fact that I was ready to take that avenue meant things with Evan had reached a new level of dysfunctional.

My father wouldn't want me to suffer in an unhealthy relationship, would he?

I figured if I told him how dumb and sorry I was, maybe he'd forgive me and let me come home.

In the end, I'd been too afraid to even try.

The fear of what I'd do if he said no was crippling, almost as crippling as being scolded in front of a store full of people.

There was a silver lining as I admitted defeat on my paper I was almost finished with.

I was nearly done with grad school. I could find a new job and maybe if things got bad again, I could find a new place to live.

That, and I hadn't heard back from the internship yet. I figured no news was good news.

As I switched to the other tab, the one housing a draft of my current work in progress, I surmised that Evan probably wouldn't let me go without a fight. Just like reaching out to my father, I hoped it would not come to that.