Chapter 16

There was only one person I could turn to about this and it wasn’t Kelly. It certainly wasn’t Gabe. He’d messed this up worse than I had when Brown had come to inspect. If only I’d kept my cool with him. Hell, I should’ve baked him a personalized cupcake. Maybe I should have wrapped my lips around his shriveled member. Even that disgusting thought seemed more palatable than an iron cage with my junkie mother.

It was all too late now.

I stood in front of the door to my old apartment and stared at the bronze numbering on the wood. Had it really come to this?

I never thought I’d have to see him again, let alone ask him for a favor. Not that I wanted to go around the law, but I was innocent of this. No chance in hell would I jeopardize my own business. The cops had to see that. So did the insurance company.

The bakery struggled without the extra oven; I couldn’t keep up with demand. And less supply meant less money.

My phone buzzed in my handbag and I brought it out, squeezing the plastic a little too hard. Gabe’s name flashed on the screen. I silenced the call and put the phone back in my handbag.

I pressed the white knob — my old doorbell.

Matthew had decided to stay on in the apartment. He didn’t have a sense of sentimentality, at least not when it came to us. Sure, he’d keep the entire collection of Californication and groan at me if I didn’t dust it, but pictures and photo albums?

Anniversaries? They were for dumbasses.

Footsteps rang on the other side of the door and I held my breath. The latch scraped and the doorknob turned. I could mimic the movements in the back of my mind. I’d opened the front door from the inside so many times.

Including the night when the results had come in and we’d discovered the truth. The night he’d broken up with me, taken the ring back, shattered my heart. Although now, it turned out it had all been one of those blessings. In disguise.

“Ally, what a nice surprise.” The half-smile said he wasn’t surprised to see me at all. “What brings you to my part of town?”

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?” Matthew asked, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I don’t think we do.”

“Come on, Matt,” I pleaded. “Just let me in.”

He looked me up and down, from my heeled pumps, to the faded skinny jeans and my silk blouse. The fuck me shoes were all part of my master plan. The one I hoped didn’t blow up in my face.

“All right, I guess you can come in.” He creaked the door open and stepped back so I could enter.

I shuffled past him into the hall, and frowned. He’d changed things. Almost like I’d been eradicated from the space like I’d been eradicated from his life. He’d taken down the wallpaper I’d chosen, repainted the kitchen and black-out shades had replaced the chiffon drapes.

And butt ugly. An aging tribute to the seventies, but without the retro feel. It looked faded and out of date. Like a picture from an old magazine, where everyone’s smiling, but they’re dying on the inside.

“Right through here,” he said as he guided me to the living room, which I’d furnished myself.

At least he hadn’t changed the leather sofa. We’d found it — and by we, I meant me — in a second-hand furniture store next to a bank. Bought it for a steal at the time. I still coveted it, even though I’d left everything behind the night he’d dropped me. I’d wanted to take it with me as if the feel of the butter soft burgundy leather could sooth my mind as easily as it did my fingertips.

Better to cut all ties.

I sank down on the edge of the sofa and Matthew stood in front of the window, silhouetted by the afternoon light streaming through the unwashed windows. Tiny specks of dust danced in the space beside his hair.

“What’s this about?” he asked, flashing that dickhead cop grin. The one that said I have you right where I want you. I own you, bitch.

“I think you know, Matthew.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, then looked up at him. “I’m being investigated for arson. They think I set fire to my own bakery.”

“And that’s my problem because…?”

“It’s not, but —”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he interjected, pointing back to the doorway. “Don’t let the front door hit your lard ass on the way out.”

I held my ground. “Matthew, you know I didn’t do it.”

“Then let them investigate you. What’s the harm in it?” He walked to the coffee table and picked up a Playboy magazine. He rifled through it in front of me. “I love these photos. Of girls who care about themselves. Take care of themselves. Not gorge all day on refined sugar and white flour.”

I ignored the disrespect. I was past caring about his gross obsessions and habits. And I was numb to his cruelty. “The harm in it? Come on, this will set me back years. I’ll lose profit. I’ll probably lose the bakery if they close it down to investigate.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he replied, then fanned himself with the magazine. “Poor girl, what will you do about it? Maybe you should ask your firefighter lover to save you again. The one with the huge cock and equally huge bank account.”

“What the hell is your problem? What did I do to deserve your fucking disdain?” I snapped, then slapped my thighs. I was tired of being pushed around, specifically by him.

“My problem is you can’t keep your skirt down and your legs closed,” Matthew retorted.

“Right, I don’t need this. I’m leaving. I don’t know what I was thinking, coming to you for help.” I stood and marched towards the exit, my skin prickling with utter rage. How dare he talk to me like that!

I’d never done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. I wasn’t a bad person. I was a human being. He’d dumped me. He’d let me go because —

“I can help you,” he called out. “I can squash the case. Hurry through the investigation. Or … I can sit on it for so long that the banks will call in your loan and you’ll be fucked.”

I turned on my heel and glared at him. “What do you want?”

“Stop seeing the fireman. Don’t speak to Gabe again.”

I glared at him.

“Take your time to formulate an answer. Hell, the longer you wait, the closer you move to bankruptcy.” Matthew bore his teeth, chucked the Playboy back onto the coffee table. “Let me know what you decide.”

I turned away from him to hide my tears. I ran for the door.

“See you soon, Ally,” he shouted after me.