Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Looking around at the shocked expressions, I glared, making people look away. I had a feeling my appearance was the final straw for my little bee today. She had looked worried, tense, and exhausted as I watched her. Her smile was forced, and her voice pitch was wrong. She needed something, and I decided right then what she needed was me to help her.
I lifted her, my instincts confirmed when she didn’t object and demand to be put down. I carried her into the kitchen, ignoring the looks of the patrons watching us covertly. At the back, the young man I had seen earlier was leaning against the counter, playing on his phone. A younger girl was hanging over his shoulder, watching, while another girl was filling cookie trays, ignoring them.
“You,” I barked out, getting all their attention. I focused on the young man. “Your name,” I demanded.
“Kenneth,” he replied, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“Well, Kenneth, stop being such a lazy ass and get out front. Clear the tables, pour the coffee—do your job.” I indicated the girl who’d been hanging over him. “Fill the trays out front. Both of you need to show some initiative.” I met the eyes of the girl who had been working. She had been the one to serve me earlier. “Make sure they do what they’re supposed to.”
“Is Bri okay?” she asked.
“She’ll be fine. Give us a minute.”
They left the kitchen, and I set Brianna down on the counter, standing between her legs. Her shoulders were still shaking with sobs, and I let her cry for a moment, still in shock at her reaction. I could hear the sounds of work happening out front, and I shook my head in frustration. Brianna didn’t seem the type to let others slack off, so why she was allowing herself to be worked to the bone while they did nothing was a mystery. I leaned my hands on the counter, lowering my head to her ear and speaking quietly. “Enough now, Little Bee. I’m here, and everything is going to be fine.”
She reacted to my voice, lifting her head. Her deep brown eyes glistened with tears, her rounded cheeks wet from the salty liquid. I ran my finger under her eye, staring at the wetness on the end of my finger. I slipped it into my mouth, tasting her sadness. She stilled as our eyes locked, her sobs ceasing, her shoulders drawing back.
“Even your tears are sweet,” I murmured.
I didn’t know who moved first. If I grabbed her or she reached for me. Our mouths melded together, and nothing else mattered.
The kitchen door opened, breaking us apart. Kenneth gaped at us.
“The front is cleaned. I was going to fill the trays.”
“Good,” Brianna stated, slipping from my embrace. She brushed under her eyes, her voice raspy from her tears. “I have two cakes to finish.”
He nodded, stealing glances at me as he rolled a cart of trays out front.
“Make sure to load the cups into the dishwasher,” she ordered.
“Yep.”
I leaned against the counter, lazily wiping at my lips, still tasting her.
“I’m surprised you let them get away with idling around,” I observed.
“When the owner is your mother, it’s amazing what you can get away with,” she replied. “I’m lucky to get any work out of them. Requests fall on deaf ears. Orders are laughed at. Complaining does nothing. Management only cares the money stays in the family.” She met my look. “I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
I nodded in understanding. I had met the woman, so the news she had her children working here and they chose not to do much wasn’t a surprise. They acted as entitled as she did.
Brianna was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at me. The end of her nose was pink, her eyes still watery, but she had recovered her spunk.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“How did you find me?”
“Carolina.”
“Carolina? How do you know Carolina?”
“I’m her godfather.”
“You’re Dante,” she breathed out.
I bowed with a flourish, and I saw her lips quirk at my over-the-top gesture. “At your service, madam.”
“When did she give you my information?” she demanded. “She never mentioned you asking.”
“The other day.”
“But…” she sputtered. “She’s on her honeymoon.”
“I called her.”
She gaped at me. “You what? You called her on her honeymoon to find me? Are you insane?”
“She had left before I could inquire about you. Her father didn’t know. And I dislike the word insane. I prefer determined.”
“I’d prefer you leave.”
“That’s not what your lips were saying moments ago.”
She tossed her hair, defiant. “I was overwhelmed. You can go now.”
“Not happening until we talk.”
She crossed her arms. “Talk, then.”
“Not here, with Kenneth walking in at any moment and no doubt reporting whatever he overhears to his mother. Somewhere private. I’ll pick you up at seven when you get off work.”