Chapter 2

Kendra

Back when I was a teenager, I used to look forward to summer. It was nothing but bikinis by day, drinks by night, and fun all summer long. I didn’t even mind the heat. The fact that I had no work, no school, and no worries made the concrete jungle that was New York City bearable.

How things had changed.

It was the middle of July, which meant that New York was in the middle of its hottest month. Just walking from the subway to work was a simmering nightmare. By the time I walked into the shop, I would be covered in sweat, my shirt would be stuck to my back, and my make-up dripped down my face. And that might be tolerable if it wasn’t for the fact that I had to work. All day, every day. Even the air conditioning couldn’t make up for that reality.

It was just past noon on a Friday, so of course, I was at work. I was the manager of the flagship store for Grandy Candy, one of the biggest confectionery companies in the country. This was the company’s biggest stores. It was located in SoHo on Broadway and constantly teemed with wealthy socialites, aristocratic European tourists, and because it was summer, dozens and dozens of school children with nothing better to do than loiter around the candy store.

This was the real reason I now loathed summer. From the moment the doors opened to when they closed, the store was filled to the brim with school kids with too much free time and nowhere near enough money. The store was a two-storey affair, so I couldn’t keep my eye on them the whole time, and they all knew it. At the end of every day when I took inventory, things were missing. Sometimes, it was something as small as an extra slice of fudge brownie. Other times, entire gift boxes were gone. It was a constant point of annoyance, and today was no different.

“Just so you know, there are two teenage boys in the back corner looking shifty, by the licorice stand,” Debbie whispered in my ear as she walked past me. She was my assistant manager and, like me, spent the majority of her time watching out for petty theft. “When they saw me watching, they pretended to pull out their phones.”

“Thanks, Debbie,” I offered, rolling my eyes. I readied myself to go and confront the boys. It was always a pointless endeavor. I couldn’t kick them out for doing nothing. It was more of a way to scare them. Although, it never really worked.

The front door to the store opened, and a familiar face walked in. Liz Campbell was my best friend in the whole world. I met her in my first week of college, and a week later, we’d been best friends. She was fun, spontaneous, carefree, and so many other things that I was not. I really had no idea why she’d kept me around for so long.

“Girl, it is hotter than the devil’s ball sack out there,” she said as she entered the store, not giving a damn about the glares she got from other customers. An older woman made no effort to hide her scowl of disapproval. “Oh, lighten up,” Liz snapped at her.

“I was going to say the devil’s butthole,” I countered as she approached the counter. “But I think ball sack is more accurate.”

“I’ve seen both and believe me it is.” She all but fell on the counter when she reached it, acting as if all the energy in her body had suddenly been drained. “I’m weak, Kendra. I can barely stand. I need sustenance. I need… I need...”

“Diablo Fudge Brownies?” I offered. I reached beneath the counter and pulled out a tray of said brownies, ready and waiting. They were dark brown, almost black, they were packed so full of chocolate. In the heat, they’d started to melt slightly, so they were soft and moist.

“How did you know?!” Liz exclaimed, the life shooting back into her. She clapped her hands together and proceeded to scoop the brownies into her mouth without hesitation or remorse.

“Well, it’s Friday, and... and that’s all the indication I needed really.”

Liz came into the store every Friday to help herself to the exact same treat. It had all but become routine by this point. I should have named the brownies after her, considering how many she’d eaten since I started working here.

“Don’t just stare at my fat ass,” she said thickly, through a mouthful of brownie. “Eat some.”

I shook my head and watched in envy as my best friend devoured brownie after brownie. Despite her personal claims, Liz was gorgeous. Big brown eyes complemented her cute pixie face, and dark hair spilled down her shoulders. She also had a body to die for. She had one of those stick-thin frames that you would see on the cover of fashion magazines and bikini blogs. It couldn’t have been more different than my own body.

“Oh, please,” Liz continued. “Don’t you dare start with that tired old complaint about how fat you are. If you do, I’m going to take my brownies and go. Don’t think I won’t.”

I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t far off these days. I had always been curvy, ever since I was a teenager. But as a teenager, that figure was easy to maintain. As in, I didn’t have to maintain it at all. Now that I was a little older and worked in a candy store, of all places, I was about one brownie away from officially having to go up a size.

“Jesus,” Liz moaned. “How many times do I have to tell you? I would kill for your body. Have you seen your butt lately? If you haven’t, I guarantee you, most of the men that come in here have—”

Luckily, the ringing of the store phone interrupted Liz’s rant. I answered it willingly, glad for an excuse to cut Liz’s spiel short.

“This is Kendra speaking, how may I help you?”

“Kendra, it’s Grant.”

“Oh, hello Mr. Marcus.” Considering who it was on the other end of the line, I half wished that I hadn’t answered and let Liz finish her piece. The caller was Grant Marcus, the owner of both the store and company.

“Kendra, how many times do I have to tell you? Grant is fine, especially considering our history. Don’t make me order you to start calling me by my first name.” He spoke to me in the same manner that he always did. It was an arrogant, self-knowing tone that reeked of entitlement.

“Okay, fine. Grant. What can I do for you?” Grant and I had a history that went beyond the realms of the simple employer-employee relationship. He and I used to date, and although it was eons ago, I always got the sense that he had never quite forgiven me for breaking up with him.

“First, you can tell your friend Liz that she owes me roughly two hundred dollars in Diablo Fudge back payments. And secondly, you can join me for dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” I sputtered, instantly regretting my knee jerk reaction. He had caught me off guard with the request, one that he had never made before. And if I knew him, which I did, he delighted in my shocked reaction.

“Yes. It’s a pretty standard meal. Usually, comes at night time. Although it can be eaten alone, tonight I would like the company.” His voice was patronizing on the other end of the line. “I have something we need to discuss.”

“Discuss?” I asked, turning my back on Liz who was trying to get my attention as she mouthed profanities at me, or more likely, at Grant on the other end of the line. “Discuss what?”

“We’ll save it for tonight. I want to be looking at you when I tell you. I’ll email you the details. And please don’t be late. I hate tardiness.” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving me hanging on the other end, completely confused.

“What did that jerkoff want?” Liz asked the moment I hung the phone up.

Liz had never liked Grant. To her, he was my underappreciative boss who worked me to the bone and took advantage of me whenever he could, which was more often than not. Since I started working for him, I had pulled more late nights than I had normal ones, and I was constantly on the receiving end of his venom.

When I first started, I made the mistake of telling her that Grant and I used to date. Since then, Grant had been at fault for everything that was wrong with my life, at least according to Liz. She blamed him for the fact that I was single. For what she called my low self-esteem and for my weight gain. Although that last one, she had never actually said out loud.

“He wants to have dinner with me tonight,” I said. “Although he didn’t say why.”

“Don’t go,” Liz said instantly.

I scoffed at her suggestion, knowing full well that I had no choice. He was my boss after all, a fact that I hated every time I thought about it. I had never meant to work for Grant, and when we dated, I never dreamed that one day I would. Back in high school, he was the last person I thought would ever be a success. But when I came to New York and needed a job, I applied at the store, having no idea that he was the owner. Although he hired me willingly, he seemed to relish the fact that he was now in charge of me. As if it was some sick form of payback for dumping him all those years ago.

“Fine,” Liz said. “Go. But order the most expensive thing on the menu. And flirt with the waiter. And make sure you put the girls on display so he knows what he’s missing.”

Liz carried on with ways to torture Grant, but I slowly phased her out. Unfortunately, I was far too preoccupied with thoughts of what Grant would want to discuss. I had gone to him asking for a promotion last month and subtly implied that I might quit if I didn’t get one. Was he going to give me one? Or worse, was he going to fire me?

Whatever it was, I really hoped it wasn’t bad news. Considering the way that my life was currently going, I didn’t think I could handle any more bad news.