Chapter 29

Ally

I stood behind the glass front counter and admired the day’s creations. Vanilla Vixen. My new favorite. It was afternoon and I hadn’t heard from Gabe since yesterday, but the bakery was up again. Nothing could dampen my mood.

The bakery was empty of customers, so I leaned back and yelled towards the kitchen, “Tess, we need more Red Velvets! Mrs. Atkinson nearly cleaned us out. She brought friends.”

“Yeah, yeah,” came the reply. Clangs and bangs emanated from the kitchen for a second. “We’re almost out of cream cheese frosting.”

“I’ll put it on my list,” I answered back.

“No, I mean we’re out of it in the next two batches,” she replied in her characteristic Tess drone.

“Damn,” I murmured, then raised my voice again, “I’ll run out and get the stuff to make it in a few minutes. You’ll have to handle the front, though.”

More clanging and banging, this time because Tess hated the thought of handling the front of the bakery. She was definitely the kind of woman who got on with dough; probably because she was allowed to punch it until it begged for mercy.

I tapped my chin. That wasn’t a bad idea. Dough, hmmm, we might be able to pull off a couple of croissants, or maybe …

The bell tinkled on the front door and I snapped to attention, plastered on that ‘welcome to my bakery, please buy as many cupcakes as you can’ smile.

Faith waddled into the bakery and this time, her annoying grin was nowhere in sight. She sniffed and looked around the room. “What’s that smell?”

“Carbs,” I replied. “What do you want, Faith? I think you proved your point the other day. You and I don’t have anything more to talk about.”

She licked her lips at the cupcakes and then turned them down in disgust. “I don’t think I did. If I had, you wouldn’t have talked to Gabe.”

I wasn’t about to get into a cat fight with a heavily pregnant woman in front of my customers. Not when everything was going so well. Even though I’d never wanted to bitch slap another woman more in my life. I could always tell her my mom was a resident of the Shakopee women’s correctional facility. That might scare her away. I grinned in spite of myself at the thought.

“Gabe doesn’t belong to you,” I said, running my hands over the top of the counter. I really didn’t want to engage. The bakery was running so smoothly that I just wanted to focus on the positive. And I’d had a lot of that lately.

“Gabe’s heart has always belonged to me and now it will belong to his son too.” Faith shifted one of the chairs in the bakery aside and sat down. “Always.”

“Faith, why are you here again? Apart from the obvious name-calling and passive aggressive innuendo, I mean,” I said, glancing at the door. Lunch had passed, yet there was usually a pre-dinner rush for sweet treats. I had to get out and get those baking supplies before it was too late. The Red Velvets were definitely the most popular, even above the Vanilla Vixen. But give that creamy white concoction time. I knew in my heart she’d catch on with the customers too.

Tess had come up with that name.

“Hello, I’m over here,” Faith said, clicking her fingers.

I snapped my focus back to her puffy face. Since she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, she appeared to be retaining water. “What?”

“You planted lies into Gabe’s head.”

“Such as?” I already knew the answer. I wanted this from her lips, straight from her foul mouth.

“He wants a paternity test. He’s never wanted one before. It’s because of you.”

“It’s because he’s a rational human being. You say the baby is his and he’s so kind-hearted that he takes your word,” I said, then snapped my fingers right back. “Just like that. I merely suggested that he needed to be sure.”

“You’re a tramp. A fat-assed, poor, redneck strumpet.”

“Great comeback,” I replied, “you used a lot of big words that you must have learned at Brown. Now, if we’re done here.” I looked at her, then at the door and pursed my lips.

“No, we’re not done here,” she growled, then gripped the edge of the table and lurched upwards, grimacing at the discomfort, but never taking her eyes off me.

“Don’t get too worked up, Faith. Remember your baby.” I couldn’t resist the shot so I folded my arms and studied her.

Faith collected herself, straightened the hip-length white trench coat which barely concealed her bump and the immodest silk blouse she’d paired with it. She hobbled to the counter and placed her fists on top of it, right above the Dark Chocolate Decadence.

“You stay away from Gabe,” Faith said, leaning forward until her belly touched the glass. Which wasn’t that far forward, but just enough to get her point across. “I won’t tell you again.”

“Or what?” I asked, unfolding my arms and placing them on my hips instead. I planted my feet.

“My father is George Callahan. He can make you so sorry you’ll wish you were dead.”

“I’ll look forward to meeting him then,” I replied, looking her up and down. This wasn’t my normal behavior, but this woman brought out the worst in me. In fact, I’d been a turbulent sphere of rioting emotions ever since the fire. Maybe it was the fact that Faith flaunted her former closeness with Gabe. Or that she could actually bear children. Or that she’d phoned me continuously and called me a whore.

“This is the last warning you’re going to receive from me.” She snapped her teeth once.

I flinched, but held my ground.

“I’m not going anywhere and I certainly won’t stay away from Gabe.”

“Suit yourself,” she hissed between those perfectly white teeth.

I opened my mouth to reply.

“Are you ever going to get the cream cheese frosting ingredients?” Tess asked from the door to the kitchen. She held a whisk in one hand and patted her top pocket for a pack of cigarettes with the other. “There a problem here?” she asked, gesturing with the whisk.

“This is Faith. She’s leaving. Problem soon to be removed.”

“Faith,” Tess said, then nodded her recognition at the name. “Heard a lot about you. Didn’t expect you’d come round here again.”

“Well, maybe you should —”

“That means … don’t come round here again,” Tess said, stepping forward and whipping the whisk through the air in front of her. “Don’t come here again unless you want to deal with me.”

“Tess,” I said, though there was no strength behind the warning.

“I’m not as nice as Allegra over there.”

Faith flapped her jaw for a few minutes, looked from Tess to me and back again. “Who the hell are you?”

Tess lurched forward, but I held up my palm and stopped her in her tracks. “We don’t need a lawsuit on our hands right now. We’ve just gotten out of one, remember?”

“I’ll be seeing you again,” Faith warned.

“Wow, something to look forward to,” I quipped, then gave her a wave goodbye.

Faith hurried out of the bakery, casting glances over her shoulder at Tess every few steps.

Tess waited until she was gone and the bell above the door had settled before whipping the whisk through the air again. “Am I ever going to get that cream cheese frosting? We can’t afford to lose any sales right now.”

“Calm down,” I replied, “and make sure you watch the front while I’m gone.”

Tess groaned and sidled towards the counter. She positioned herself behind it with a weighty sigh.

I laughed and squeezed both her shoulders. “And no smoke breaks!”

“Be careful, I might go on a baking strike and then you’ll be screwed,” she said, then prodded me in the ribs with the end of the whisk.

I winked at her and rushed out of the door.