Millie
WE’D FINISHED EATING IN SILENCE after Jackson left, my Beef and Broccoli tasteless, so I barely ate at all.
After we cleaned up, I took Kayla into the back. I gave her a brief tour, making sure she knew where the bathroom was, showing her our office, the kitchen, and the different walk-ins. I thought briefly about taking her up into my apartment, so she could hang out and watch TV or something, then figured it was too far and maybe for my first time watching her, I should keep her close.
So, we were in the kitchen and I was explaining the flowers I was making, the type of cake it would go on, and telling Kayla about the party the next day. If there was ever a person who looked or acted more bored, I’d never met them. Still, I kept trying.
“You can make flowers with frosting, fondant, gum paste . . .”
“He’s never going to fall in love with you, or marry you, you know,” Kayla broke in, her tone full of anger.
I looked up from what I was doing, put my tools down, and started as gently as I could, “Kayla . . .”
“No, this is stupid. My dad loved my mom, and she left us, she’s never coming back. So now, he has me, and we’re doing just fine. We were happy and everything until you showed up. Now you think you can take him away, but you can’t. He told me, I’ll always be his number one girl . . . not you.”
My stomach clenched painfully as the anger on Kayla’s face turned to worry and sadness.
“Oh, honey, I’m not trying to take your place, or your mother’s. I really like your father, and we’re having a great time getting to know each other, that’s all it is right now. No one has said anything about marriage or anything, so you don’t need to get worked up about that. Not now, let’s just get to know each other, okay? I think that would really make your dad happy.”
For some reason, my words brought the anger back. In fact, Kayla looked so angry, with her red face and clenched fists, that it made me worried for her.
“You don’t know what makes him happy,” she spat.
I lifted up my hands and spoke softly, hoping to calm her down.
“You’re right, let’s just take a break, maybe go in the back and have some water.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I don’t want you coming to my house for tacos, I don’t want to come here to your stupid kitchen to watch you make stupid food. I want you to leave us alone!” she shouted, and before I knew her intentions, she rushed to my counter, lifted her arm, and swept all of my flowers onto the floor. “I hate you.”
My heart was pounding and my hands were sweating, and I felt utter despair as I looked at all of my hard work in a crumbled heap on the ground.
“Go back to my office and wait for me there. I’ll come back when we’ve both calmed down,” I managed to say through my teeth. When it looked like Kayla might argue, I said more sternly, “Now!”
Kayla huffed in response, but followed my directions and stomped off toward my office. After a few moments, I heard the door slam, then braced myself against the counter with my hands.
I tried breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, but it didn’t work. My eyes filled with tears anyway as I thought about the confrontation we just had, then about how long it was going to take to redo all of the work I’d already completed.
It’s going to be a long night.
I used my sleeve to wipe the tears from my cheeks, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out two waters.
You can do this . . . you know what she’s going through and can put yourself in her place. She’s hurting and took it out on you, but you’re a grown woman, you can take it.
Once I was done with my mental pep talk, I squared my shoulders and went to the office. Opening the door, I held the waters in front of me, like a peace offering, then faltered when I saw that Kayla wasn’t there.
I set the waters down on Dru’s desk and did a quick search of the room, looking under all the desks and in the closet.
Nothing.
I started calling out, “Kayla,” as I left the office and searched all of the walk-ins, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the storefront.
When I didn’t see her and she didn’t answer, I ran up the stairs to the apartment level and tried all of our doors. They were all locked, so I knew she couldn’t have gotten in. Panic started setting in as I whirled in the hallway and ran back down the stairs.
I did another lap around the downstairs, hoping like hell Kayla was hiding from me, but when she didn’t come out and didn’t call out, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jackson.
“You have reached the voicemail of Jackson Heeler,” the automation said after a few rings, his voice supplying his name.
I waited for the beep and said, “Call me as soon as you get this.”
I pressed end, cursing under my breath as I retraced her steps from the mess in the kitchen, down the back hall, and to our office. That’s when my eyes caught on the door at the end of the hallway.
The back exit.
I rushed to the door, pushing it open so hard it slammed against the wall as I looked out over the back parking lot, only to find it empty.
She’s gone.