Chapter 17

The cops had already closed the bakery down so they could proceed with their investigation, but even they didn’t work on a Friday night. At least, not investigative work. They were probably prowling the streets.

Matthew had often worked the late shift on Fridays. I’d always worried myself sick about him. A sick feeling of dread every time there was a knock at the door or a ring of my phone. Not so much anymore.

Now, I kinda wanted him to get punched in the face, hit by a drunk driver or shot in the gut without his vest on.

I sat in my living room, sipping a tequila on the rocks. Tequila was low calorie. I paired the drink with a bowl of frosting topped with cherries. If now wasn’t the time to comfort eat, then I didn’t know what was. In spite of Matthew and his vulgar jibes about my weight.

My phone rang and I answered it. “Do you need our help?” Kelly didn’t bother saying hello first. She was pragmatic. I loved that about her. “Pat’s got a pretty good lawyer.”

“Thanks, Kels, but by the time I need a lawyer, it will already be too late. I’m losing money by the day.” I gulped down a spoonful of frosting.

Ah, bliss.

“I’m coming over, we can braid our hair, roast marshmallows, do girly stuff.”

I took another bite. “That’s real sweet, but I’d rather be alone right now.” I couldn’t think of anything less appetizing than having to put on a ‘strong face’ while Kelly supported me with words and gooey, molten marshmallows.

“Ally,” she said.

“No, Kelly, I really need this time alone. Thanks anyway.” I hardened my tone, to cut her off before she got into convincing mode.

“If you’re sure,” she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I’m sure. Chat later,” I replied, then pressed the red button before she could guilt me into girls’ night. I couldn’t handle that right now.

I needed space, time to think about Matthew’s crazy ultimatum. Gabe had pissed me off like crazy, but that didn’t mean I wanted to lose whatever the hell it was we had. If we had anything.

Damn. I was so confused.

He’d called himself my boyfriend, arrogant jack off. It’d infuriated me at the time, but now, it made my stomach writhe with hopeful butterflies. Like everything would be alright. I reveled in the feeling for a moment more until Matthew flittered into my consciousness. He’d ruin this. Like he’d ruined everything.

Gabe said he wanted more than just a fling. He wanted me for me.

I frowned and slurped my tequila, then chased it with a cherry. “Matthew wanted you too, and look how that turned out,” I said out loud.

Codsworth meowed at my ankles, and turned his knowing kitty eyes on me.

“You can’t have any,” I scolded. “Sugar isn’t good for your constitution. Neither is tequila. Although, I’d love to see your antics if you took a few licks.”

It wasn’t good for mine either, but I was about to lose my lifelong dream, so what the hell. I spooned more into my mouth and let it melt over my tongue.

Chocolate frosting. Please, sir, may I have some more. I ate another spoonful.

My phone buzzed to life again. Probably Kelly, calling back to force me into a onesie. The screen read ‘private caller’ so I pressed the green icon on the screen.

“Stupid bitch,” a woman said into the phone. She slurred it actually. “You’re gonna fucking die for touching him.” Then she hung up.

I stared at the screen, my mouth slightly open. “What the fu —?”

The phone buzzed again. I probably shouldn’t have answered, but there was sick fascination twisting in my gut. I pressed the green icon again.

“Whore!” she screamed this time. She hung up before I could ask who the hell it was.

Some drunk woman on a Friday night who didn’t want me to touch a guy. A guy?

Gabe. Damn it. It was probably him.

Matthew had said that he got around. He used women and then dumped them when he was finished. This chick was probably one of his ex-flings, furious that I’d gotten in the way of whatever had happened between them. If she’d slept with him, she’d want more. His mad bedroom skills weren’t in question.

I squished the plastic of my phone until it squeaked. The phone buzzed again, but I didn’t bother answering it this time. Expletives could go to voice mail. I waited until she’d stopped calling, then dialed Gabe’s number.

“I’m glad you called,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day.”

“How about you apologize for what happened a few seconds ago,” I replied, then inhaled some tequila, choked and crunched on an ice cube.

“What do you mean?”

“I just got a call from some woman who swore at me and told me I’m going to die for touching you.”

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed.

“My sentiments exactly. Care to explain?” I was little tipsy. I licked frosting off the spoon and accidentally dabbed some on the tip of my nose. Make that a little drunk. On tequila.

And sugar.

And lust.

“I have no idea, Allegra.” He clipped the words out as I chewed my bottom lip.

“Are you lying to me again? Is this some woman you’re screwing on the side?”

“No! Allegra —”

“Because if it is, I get it. Look, we’re not dating, not exclusive. Not anything. It’s natural for you to play the field, I guess. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“From who? Who told you that?” Gabe growled the questions.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said around a mouthful of frosting. “Just don’t give out my number to your harem. Okay?”

“Allegra, it’s not like that. Will you just listen for a second?” Gabe shuffled the phone and scratching filled my ear for a second.

“No, I’m done listening. Goodbye, Gabe.”

“Don’t do this,” he pleaded.

“It’s over. Goodbye. Have a good life. Don’t come near my place again.” I hung up and tossed my phone on the chair opposite me. I didn’t own a TV, but I preferred it that way. Jane Austen, sugar straight to the vein and my best friends Kelly and Codsworth. No penises need apply.

I kicked off my slippers, folded my legs beneath me, and finished the tumbler of tequila in one go.

I didn’t let myself cry for another half hour, not until the bowl of frosting was as empty as my heart.