Company Ink (13 page)

Trying to continue with the rest of her afternoon as if nothing had happened, she turned her living room stereo on as loud as it would go before heading into the kitchen to begin a few hours of baking. She wasn’t going to let Steve get to her. And she really
was
an idiot for agreeing to have dinner with him in the first place. She’d said yes because she wanted to know why; she wanted answers and an explanation for how he’d treated her. And, truth be told, an apology would have been great. But she never had any intention of letting anything else happen—he obviously thought differently. She picked up her cordless phone, tempted to call Steve and give him a piece of her mind. But the anxiety that ripped through her as she realized that she’d already opened up a huge can of worms made her stomach turn, so she decided against it. Still clutching the phone, she hightailed it for the bathroom. With tears in her eyes, she bent over the sink and threw up, her phone falling to the floor with a loud clatter as her nerves got the best of her.

The phone rang as she sat on the cold bathroom tile, trying to pull herself together. Violet let out a groan as the caller ID read Ben’s name; she wiped her mouth and took a couple of deep breaths before answering.

She did her best to control the tremble in her voice. “Hi there.”

“Vi, come back.”

She closed her eyes, the playfulness in his voice bringing instant relief. “I can’t. I’ve already got the oven on.”

“Oh, all right,” he acquiesced with a sincere chuckle. “I’m still coming by, but it’s going to be a little later than I planned. I really need to have a chat with Tommy about the divorce case. Is that okay?”

“Oh, sure,” she answered, her eyes shooting open. Damn, that shredded card was still scattered at her front door, waiting to serve as a clear message of rejection when Steve reappeared in her building again. “In fact, how about we just save you coming over for another day? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”

“It’s not like I’m going into a conference or anything; he’s just updating me. I’m also going to—and try not to be too creeped out here—well, I’m telling him about you.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “About me?”

“Yes. I’m telling him about us, because as my lawyer he needs to know.”

Her stomach churned again. “So there’s an us?”

“There might be.”

Us.
The last “us” she was a part of just overstepped social boundaries and left flowers at her door when she’d already made it clear that she was seeing someone else and wanted nothing to do with him. So far, she and Ben had only had a date and a couple of heated trysts; thinking of the two of them as “us” was a lot for Violet to absorb, especially with Steve trying to make a return into her life.

“Vi, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she answered. She could almost hear the sound of metal walls slamming down around her as she shut him out. “I’m not actually feeling good.”

“Oh, that sucks. Feeling gross?”

“Feeling tired,” she said, feigning a playful tone. “You wore me out.”

“If you’re trying to give my ego a boost, you’re doing a great job.”

“I try,” she replied, forcing herself to get to her feet. “All right, hun, I’ve got eggs to crack.”

He sighed. “Get back in my arms soon.”

Her eyes closed involuntarily, her body betraying her as it took brief solace in his last statement even though her stomach was sick from the pressure the last few minutes had put on her.

“You bet your ass I will,” she replied softly.

After the call ended, Violet glanced at her reflection in the mirror; a little pale thanks to the nervous tummy quake, she knew that if she got rid of Steve once, she could do it again. And Ben, who was already going through his own drama with Elena, didn’t have to know. Things were complicated enough between them; he didn’t need the drama of
another
ex. And this time, she was fairly confident she was strong enough to get Steve out of her life on her own.

Ella sat on the windowsill in Violet’s bedroom the next day with her eyes wide, hanging on to her best friend’s every word, the cake Violet had made for her forgotten.

“So you’re
sure
that your mom didn’t talk to Steve?”

“She said he hasn’t reached out to her at all,” Violet said from behind her closet door as she leafed through her clothes. “I mean, why would she lie, especially considering how we broke up in the first place?”

“Well, how did he figure out where you live?”

Violet paused briefly before closing the closet door, a shirt draped over her arm. “I think he followed me home from the bakery.”

Ella’s jaw dropped as she leaned over and took the shirt. “Oh, no. You don’t think he’s taking it back to when … ?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Violet answered. “And if he’s starting again, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t go through this again.”

“I hate to say this, but you kind of started it.”

“No, you’re right,” Violet agreed with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have agreed to have dinner with him in the first place.”

“You never did tell me why you had that major brain fart, you know.”

Violet chuckled in spite of herself. “Promise you won’t get mad or laugh.”

Ella was already smiling. “I’m listening, not promising.”

“All right, fine. Here’s the thing—it’s complicated. I know it seems like I did it out of spite, but I wanted to hear him say he was wrong. I wanted to know why he treated me the way he did.”

Ella made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a frustrated groan and a laugh. She placed her hands over her face. “And there it is—women and our quest for why. I’m telling you it’s going to be the thing that dooms us as a gender.”

“I didn’t say I had a great reason.”

“You’re hopeless. Does Ben know what’s going on?”

Violet shook her head. “Ben’s got enough going on with his ex; he doesn’t need my added drama.”

“Vi, you’ve gotta say something, especially if Steve gets out of hand again. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have Ben at your side.”

Violet sucked her teeth in frustration. “I’m a big girl, Ella—I can handle my own messes! I don’t need a hero.”

Ella pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is exactly how you acted last time, and it almost got you hurt. You know, Vi, sometimes it’s okay to need somebody.”

Violet tilted her head to one side as she considered the point. Yeah, she was quick to go on the defensive when anyone suggested she ask for help. She also knew her current attitude linked directly to the fallout from her time with Steve. And since then, Violet hadn’t been in the market for vulnerability, because she saw what happened to people who put their trust in the wrong people. But the pleading look on Ella’s face was enough to at least make her think about it.

“I hear you, Ell. Once things settle down for him, I’ll say something. For now, I’ll just have to handle it.”

• • •

Later that night, hours after managing to make it to bed at a reasonable hour for the first time since Ben had swept her off her feet, her doorbell buzzed. The noise that reverberated through the apartment frightened Violet out of bed as she tried to get her wits about her.

She turned full circle in the darkness, disoriented. “What the … ?”

The buzzer sounded a second time, and her heart pounded wildly. Who the hell could be downstairs trying to get into the building? It was probably a drunken college student looking to aggravate a building full of people just trying to get some rest. So she lay back down and tried to make her racing heart slow enough to get her back into dreamland.

She had just begun to slip into another peaceful slumber when a loud thumping sound yanked her awake. Violet sat straight up in bed, an involuntary gasp escaping her lips as she clasped her hand to her chest. She stared into the darkness, an immediate feeling of dread washing over her as she tried to figure out how much time had passed. She tried to slow her breathing, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in danger. The thumping noise came again, and this time she was able to pinpoint its location. She stood and walked quietly and carefully out of her bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room as she willed her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

One more time, the series of thumps sounded. Someone was knocking. She looked into the kitchen at the microwave clock. Three in the morning! This time the knock was followed by someone whispering her name.

Violet could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop. She inched toward the door slowly, trying to avoid even taking a breath. Another light scrape came from the other side; her imagination ran wild as she pictured an insane axe murderer on the other side, picking at the door’s lock with his hook hand. Cautiously, she inched to the door and gently lifted the peephole. As her heart threatened to burst straight through her chest, she prayed the unannounced visitor wouldn’t see her peeking out.

It was Steve. Violet’s body slumped. Frustration and anger bubbled up inside of her—she might have been more prepared to deal with the axe murderer. Her ex was staring at a point somewhere below the peephole, and his eyes were glassy.
Great, and he’s drunk.
What was he capable of now that he was three sheets to the wind? He leaned forward and knocked again; she sprang back, managing to avoid making a sound as the peephole slid closed.

She took a few steps backward, away from the entrance, afraid to take her eyes off the door. She allowed herself a silent prayer as she turned toward the back of the apartment, asking her door to just stay solid and shut at least until morning. In her bedroom, she heard her phone buzz against her solid oak end table. Her hair flew as she glanced toward the front door, wildly hoping Steve didn’t hear it. Once she reached the safety of her bedroom, she locked the door and extended her arms as she began to feel her way to the bed. Violet considered, just for a moment, calling Ben. Instead, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a container of pepper spray—just in case. She laid in bed with her eyes closed after that, knowing full well that sleep would not be coming any time soon.

• • •

Her eyes were burning the next day as she struggled to get through her orders. She kept a triple-shot caramel latte below her counter, squatting every few minutes to gulp down some caffeine despite the fact that the health department forbade such behavior. But if she had to choose between falling asleep and accidentally icing a cake pan or getting through her list with a little bit of energy, she’d risk keeping the outlawed latte at her station.

She did her best to keep her eye on the prize: three o’clock, the hour that marked the end of her shift. If she stayed focused, she’d be able to get through the day without doing much more damage beyond yawning like a beast in the front window. As a result, she avoided contact with everyone in the store, barely saying more than a few words to anyone . Ultimately, all of her co-workers avoided her. All of them, that is, except Jay. This guy was really starting to overstay his welcome—she briefly wondered when he’d be headed back to the corporate office for good.

“Hey, Vi! What’s going on with you today?”

Violet sighed, the interaction draining valuable energy from her body. “I’m just tired.”

“Hmm, losing sleep, huh?” he teased. “Is it the new guy?”

“Jay, I’m really not in the mood. Can we talk about this later?”

He stepped back, slightly offended at the brush off. “Oh, so you’re not just tired—you’re crabby, too.”

“I’m really not meaning to be,” Violet replied. “I’m just having a—”

“No, I get it,” Jay interrupted, turning away and heading back toward the registers. “Talk to you later.”

Jay’s abrupt departure let Violet know in no uncertain terms that she’d offended him. She sighed deeply, silently wishing he would have just let left her alone today. Still being the “new girl” held its disadvantages; Violet had upset the guy who’d not only been ops manager for years but started as a floor supervisor when Wynne’s Kitchen first opened at this very store. Jay was definitely well loved by all of the staff and, though Violet had certainly made a few friends, it wouldn’t fare well for her that she’d upset the company darling.
Ah, store politics
. Violet hoped this would be the last she’d have to think about it.

• • •

It didn’t take long for Ben to notice that Violet was becoming increasingly distracted and, frankly, it worried him. Since their first “date,” he’d craved her in a way that he never had with anyone. Shared shifts at the bakery had become almost unbearable; every time he so much as looked in her direction, he wanted nothing more than to kiss or touch her. In fact, in the four weeks they’d been dating, however secret their relationship, they’d made love more times than he had in a year with Elena. Now they were going into their second month together, and Violet might be pulling away. Not that he blamed her—secret relationships, he was learning, were exhausting. And if juggling his growing feelings and maintaining a successfully professional rapport at the bakery was difficult for him, then it must be for Violet as well.

Violet was sitting silently at her desk in the bakery’s office, going over paperwork with worry etched on her face. He sat just a few feet away, almost feeling the way he had when things were weird between them. Her fingers sped across her keyboard and, every now and then, she’d stop and put her head down, letting out a sigh. After ten minutes of debating with himself, he decided he couldn’t wait until later to talk to her.

“Is everything okay, Vi?”

She jumped slightly, as if she’d barely registered his presence before that moment. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed gently. “You’ve sighed six times in the last ten minutes. It’s not the orders, is it? Am I pushing too hard with taking on more? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “Really, it’s nothing. We can talk about it another time.”

Nothing. Right.
“You’re not telling me something. And I can’t shake it out of you because we’re at work.”

“We’ve been dating a month, and you already know me too well.”