Chapter 7
Sienna
The shop has been non-stop traffic since we opened this morning. The bell above the door has been constantly chiming, making it an endless struggle to keep the display case stocked. Though I am grateful for the work to keep my mind off what happened between Matt and I last night, by the time we finally catch a break, Tessa and I are both dead on our feet.
“Time to think about hiring some extras hands around here,” Tessa sighs, dropping down into one of the plush pink chairs in the corner, reserved for consultations. Propping her feet up on the edge of the table, she groans. “You’re not getting any younger, you know?”
“Good thing I’ve got you to keep me young, huh, Tess?” I deadpan, tossing the rag I have been using to wipe down the counter at her.
“I’ll give you that one, smartass.” Closing her eyes, she laces her fingers over her abdomen and smiles. “Just know that even I have my limitations.”
“Noted,” I tell her. “I’ve actually already put an ad up. Can’t have you leaving me emptyhanded when you run off to fill both of yours with porn cock.”
“Emptyhanded,” she snickers. “You’re so punny.”
“I try.”
“So…” she breathes, unmoving.
“So?”
Cracking her eye open, she arches a brow. “So,” she repeats, her tone pressing, clearly having nothing to do with impending employee interviews.
“No.” Shaking my head, I start for the kitchen. “We aren’t having that conversation.”
Grunting, she opens her eyes. “Which conversation would that be, Sienna?” she asks with a smug grin. “The one where I ask you if you had a nice time with Sargent Stud-Muffin? Or, how I tell you I noticed a certain man leaving your house this morning while I was on my front porch enjoying my morning coffee?”
“Actually put coffee in the Bailey’s this morning, did you?” I ask, arching my brow. “If hell is going to freeze over, you might want to pack a sweater.”
“Aren’t you full of comedic one-liners today?” she asks with a chuckle. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I did have coffee this morning, you sassy little shit. De-caf, of course. I’m careful about what I put into my body, you know.” Shrugging her shoulders, she waves me off dismissively. Yanking her phone from the pocket of her black track pants, she readies herself. “Now, give me something, dammit. I’ve got followers demanding updates.”
“Tell them that it’s all about floral prints and gold shimmer,” I inform her, quoting Sway. “Then, get your ass up so we can get to work.”
“Hmm. I’d ask what’s gotten into you,” she taunts. “But I’m pretty sure I already know.”
Moving into the kitchen, I ignore Tessa’s bitch-fest about the pitfalls of leaving your public wanting. Grabbing my wireless earbuds, I crank my baking playlist, preheat my wall of ovens, and get myself ready for a long stretch of baking and prepping for tomorrow.
Tessa isn’t wrong about me needing to break down and hire some much-needed help. The time has definitely come. In the last six months, Sweets by Sienna has doubled daily sales, with over half of that being reoccurring orders for local businesses. Thanks to a lot of creative advertising, and word of mouth from satisfied customers, I have local clients, as well as some in Atlanta, interested in wedding cakes and my ability to provide catering services that I know Tessa and I cannot possibly handle alone without stretching us far too thin. For too long, I have ignored impending changes that I know must be made, along with so many other things in my life, simply because it requires me to give up one thing. Control. Trusting my kitchen to just anyone isn’t something that I am going to be able to do lightly.
Even if it must be done…
One of the great things about Tessa and I having worked together in the kitchen for as long as we have is that we do so almost effortlessly. We don’t need to bark orders at each other or constantly be checking in. Everything simply flows without any awkward lag or miscommunication.
She also knows exactly how things have to be done.
Before long, cupcakes are in the oven, along with turnovers and miniature cheesecake crusts filled with a mixture Tessa refers to as The Big O. My own combination of cookie dough, chocolate and peanut butter fudges, all mixed in cheesecake and topped with both butterscotch and caramel drizzle is by far her favorite thing I have put in the case to date.
With items baking and chilling, Tessa disappears up front, leaving me alone to work on putting the finishing touches on a sheet cake to be picked up later this afternoon. Decorating is only one part of what makes a dessert, though it is no less important. Taste and appearance go hand in hand. If I don’t look at something I make and want to eat it myself, then why the hell would I want to sell it to someone and expect them to?
With one hand working the turntable, I begin piping pale pink flowers across the top of the cake in a waterfall fashion, before using a white frosting with added edible glitter to write ‘Happy Birthday Lila’. I hum along to the music, my hips swaying to the beat as I work. I am in the zone and, before long, the cake is finished. Wiping my brow with my hand, I step back to admire my work just as an arm slips around me and five fingers cop a feel of my boob.
“Fucking hell!” I scream, frosting shooting from the tip of the bag in my hand as I spin around and meet Matt’s wide eyes. Holding up both hands, he looks down at the frosting smeared across the front of his uniform. Tossing the bag to the counter, I yank the earbuds from my ears. “You scared the shit out of me!” I shriek, dragging in a deep breath. “You can’t sneak up on people like that? What if I’d had a knife? Or a gun?” I ask, waving my hands around like a lunatic.
“Good thing you didn’t,” he replies, his lips twisting up into a smile. “You’ve got one hell of a trigger finger, baby.”
“Very funny,” I mutter, slapping him in the chest, only to get frosting all over my fingers. “Shit. Now, you’ve got me frazzled.”
“Come here.” Snagging my wrist, he wraps his lips around my middle and index fingers, swirling his tongue around them as he licks them clean. When he lightly sucks, I feel it all the way to my toes. “Mmm,” he moans, his eyes heating as he slips them out again. “Delicious.”
My body warms from the heat of his gaze, visions of last night, and all the amazing things he did to me with that mouth, come rushing back. “Where’s Tessa?” The question rushes out of me on a harsh exhale.
“Napping up front,” he replies, sliding his hand around to rest right above my ass. “How about we start this over?” he asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Leaning forward, he cups my jaw and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I sigh, leaning into his touch.
His tongue sweeps over my bottom lip before diving into my mouth. My body reacts, arching into his traitorously, as I kiss him back. Every taste, every touch, has me suddenly not caring that we are currently standing in the back of my shop, covered in frosting, making out like teenagers. The thought makes me giggle.
“Something funny?” he asks, trailing his lips along my jaw. His breath rushes over my skin causing me to shiver.
“Mhm,” Leaning back, I force my eyes to open. “Only every single aspect of my life lately.” Taking a breath, I straighten in his arms. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” he purrs, his fingers firmly digging into my ass. “I’m craving something sweet.”
“You are?” I ask, knowing that I need to find the rational part of me that isn’t thinking about having sex with him right now. Although, I think the irrational parts of me would win out without much of a fight.
“Oh yeah,” he nods, shifting us so my back is pressed to the wall.
A loud crash and glass shattering, explodes from the front of the store. “Holy shit!” I yelp, nearly jumping out of my damn skin. “What the hell was that? Tess!”
Whipping around quickly, Matt tucks me behind him and heads through the doorway. “What the fuck?” Releasing me, he rounds the counter, hauling ass towards the shattered window.
“Oh my God!” One of the chairs lies on its side, next to a groaning Tessa who is lying beside what looks like a brick. The left side of her face is covered in blood. Matt drops to his knees, cradling her head as he looks her over. Seeing her lying there, hurt, is heart-breaking. Grabbing one of the towels from the counter, I move quickly toward them. Kicking the glass out of my way, I drop to one knee and press the towel to her head. “Tessa, are you okay?” I ask while Matt begins barking into his radio. “What happened?”
“Hell if I know,” she groans, closing her eyes tightly. “Ruined a damn fine nap, though.”
Not wanting to move her too much, Matt yanks the cushions from the chairs and works to stabilize Tessa as best he can. “E.M.S. is in route,” he says, shooting me a concerned look. “Keep pressure there, yeah?”
“Right. Yeah. Okay,” I reply nervously, my hands trembling. “I can do that.”
His hand covers mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Breathe, Sienna.” Doing as he asks, I take a deep breath and nod my head. “Good girl.”
Pushing to his feet, Matt gets to work on securing the scene while waiting for backup. Tessa nags and complains the entire time, even refusing medical treatment once the ambulance arrives. “Watch those fingers, shithead,” she snaps, slapping the man’s hands away. “You keep feeling me up, I’ll be sending you a bill instead of paying one.”
“For God’s sake, Tess,” I mutter, glaring down at her. “Would you rather he let you bleed out?”
“Stop fussing over me,” she scowls, shifting her body. “I’m willing to bet you’ve sliced your knees to ribbons on all that glass.”
“I’m fine.” Pushing to my feet, I look to the man currently struggling with Tessa. “Strap her down and sedate her if you have to. This happened on my property. She goes to the hospital.”
Storming for the door, I ignore my stinging knees as I spot Matt and another officer talking in hushed voices. In Matt’s hand is a piece of paper. “You want me to head down there?” the guy asks. “See what he has to say about it?”
“No,” Matt seethes. “I’ll go once we’re done here.”
“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to the paper.
Folding it quickly, he shoots a look to the other man before looking to me. “We’ll talk about it later.” Stepping toward me, he rakes his eyes over me slowly, stopping on my knees. “You’re bleeding.”
“Just scratches,” I reply, shaking him off. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“What does it say, Matt?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I make it very clear that I am not going to budge.
Blowing out a breath, he yanks a hand through his hair before unfolding the paper so that I can see for myself. “It was tied around a brick we found inside the shop.” My blood boils as I read the words fucking whore written in all capital letters across the center of the page. “Sienna, I want you to go back inside. Let me handle this.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Right.”
Stepping back inside, I round the counter and fish my phone from my bag. Dialing Jimmy’s number quickly, my free hand clenches into a fist at my side when it goes straight to his voicemail. Slamming the phone down, I head into the kitchen, hoping to clear my head. Shutting off the last of the ovens, I dump the burned muffins into the trash, burning my hand in the process.
“Shit!” I yelp, kicking the pan when it falls to the floor.
The backdoor flies open, Briggs steps inside, an annoyed look on her face. “It’s like a damn crime scene out there,” she gasps, out of breath. Throwing down her keys, her face falls. “Oh God.” Rushing to me, she looks me over, worry filling her features. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m pretty sure Jimmy threw a brick through the window.”
“Is that so?” she asks, her face hardening. “And why do we think that?”
“Because,” I shrug, still trying to piece it all together myself. “I won’t take him back.”
“I see.” Her tone is frigid, her dark eyes filling with rage as I begin explaining what happened. The moment I mention the note, she squares her shoulders and heads for the door. “Bad move, Jimbo.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
Tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, she meets my eyes. “It’s time for a Briggs-style beat down.” Cracking her knuckles, she rolls her shoulders. “He’s fucking earned it.”