Apple Turnovers.

As the Uber I had to book this morning because my car finally chose to die pulls up to my bakery, my cheeks begin to burn with wrath as I observe many individuals taking photographs and measurements of my establishment.

“Please, don’t go anywhere. I have a feeling I am going to need you to take me somewhere else shortly.” I plead with the driver as I open the door and exit the vehicle, pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

“What are you men doing outside my bakery this early in the morning without my consent?” I do my best to keep my voice level and fail miserably.

One of the contractors turns around to face me with a clipboard in his hand, “Ah, you must be, Keri. We are here at the request of Mr. Landry.”

“Tobias Landry has no business here.” I sneer. “This is still my bakery, and you are trespassing.”

“Well, technically we are still on council grounds.” The contractor replies in a smart arse tone that has one or two of his men giggling beside him.

I walk right up to the middle-aged man who reeks of cigarettes and cheap home-brewed coffee. “You know full well what you are doing, and this is classified as harassment.” I turn on my heel, heading back to the Uber that is surprisingly still waiting for me, as I ignore the slur of words that are being directed at me.

“Oh, love, is everything okay?” Mrs. Brown walks up to me with a concerned look on her face.

I come to a halt and sigh, “I’m afraid not. The dashing young man you saw yesterday is anything but dashing, Mrs. Brown.” My voice quivers. “He is planning to take my bakery away from me. But, he is in for one hell of a fight if he thinks I am going to just lay down and let him walk all over me like a damn welcome mat.”

Mrs. Brown’s eyebrows furrow as her gaze shifts to the men outside my bakery. “You are going to see this man and give him a good piece of your mind, aren’t you, deary?” She asks as her gaze meets mine with an underlay of rage blazing in her irises.

“I am.”

“Good, you go take care of him and I will take care of these men here.” She says with determination as she reaches out with her hand and rubs my upper arm.

I shake my head, “Oh, Mrs. Brown, I cannot ask you to do that for me.” I reply, on the verge of breaking down in tears.

“Hush, child. I am not about to let these men take away the one reason that gets my old Kahoot out of bed this early every morning.”

I nod my head with a soft smile spreading across my face. “Thank you,” I say as I lean in and give her a quick but gentle hug.

>>> 

After having to look up the address for Landry Enterprises, the Uber driver safely comes to a standstill outside the large building.

I thank him, promising to leave him a five-star review and a fifteen percent tip for being gracious to another shitty start to my morning.

As I enter the building through the revolving door, I quickly brush past the security guard, who is too busy eyeing up one of the female employees with long black hair that falls upon her back like a silk curtain.

I say a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess for the distracting female being put in my path. The twin doors to an elevator begin to slide open, and I quickly step through them as a throng of people dressed in expensive suits and attire exit the car.

Looking down at myself, I pull my white sun dress down feeling a little self-conscious, knowing that I stick out like a sore thumb with my second-hand dress and cheap ballet shoes.

In my defense, I didn’t intend to come here, and I’m dressed comfortably as I am on my feet all day serving customers and baking. Lifting my chin, I stare straight ahead, ignoring the scornful looks I am receiving as people pile into the car after me.

“Can someone please press the button to Tobias Landry’s office?” I say out loud.

An employee with short blonde hair styled into a perfect bob turns her head to look at me, “And what business could someone like you have with Mr. Landry?” She asks me in a menacing tone.

“My business with Mr. Landry is just that, my business.”

“The level you are looking for is the top floor.” A male’s voice unexpectedly sweeps through the small car. “I do hope that you have made an appointment to see him, or you will be forced to leave the premises.”

“Hmm, maybe Mr. Landry should take a page out of his book and abide by it. If it’s okay for him to come to my place of business and-”

“And what business is this that you own dressed the way you are?” The blonde female with green eyes asks as she rudely cuts me off.

“The Appleton Bakery.”

“Thee, Appleton Bakery?” The male’s voice sweeps through the car once again with surprise.

“Yes, the one and only Appleton bakery on Queens Street,” I reply with pride and fulfillment.

The elevator car begins to slow down before the doors glide open, letting everyone off at the thirteenth level and revealing the male who so kindly told me what level to go to. 

He is dressed in a blue pinstripe suit that screams expensive and way out of your league. He stands in the doorway with his hands spread wide open to stop the doors from closing on him as he looks at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

But his chocolate brown eyes tell a different story, as they are soft and inviting; filled with sin and excitement only to be experienced between the bedsheets. 

I shake my head, gulping as the explicit thoughts of his large, strong hands exploring every inch of my naked flesh sends a surge of vibrating tingles through me. 

As he kindly presses the button for me on the elevator control panel, his gaze is heavy on mine, “Your apple turnovers were a hit to the meeting I brought last week.”

I swallow with surprise, “That was you who ordered thirty apple turners to be made the day before you needed them?” I scoff finally being able to put a face to the name that had me staying back ultra late as I cursed every star under the sun for the large order.

“It was, and I’m glad I made the order where you were able to deliver without any theatrical behavior.” He reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and offers me his business card. “My name’s Davis and if you ever wanna, I don’t know, grab a coffee sometime, you just dial the number on the back of my card and I'll make it happen.” He says, with one side of his mouth curling into a lopsided smirk.

I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks burn with fever, and I tuck the card into the front pocket of my bag. “I’ll keep that in mind, Davis.”

He nods his head, stepping out of the doorway as the door chimes and starts to close. He stands there, looking at me until the doors slide shut, and the car begins to ascend. I lift my hands and place them over my cheeks, feeling them burn with giddiness.

I have no intention of calling Davis, but the thought that I was able to catch his attention makes me feel good about myself even though I am dressed cheaply without an ounce of makeup on, too.

But then the smile instantly drops from my face as the realization of me catching the attention of a possible creep sinks in, and makes me feel sick to my stomach all over again.