Such trivial things I have. Mrs. Fox should be very proud in her grave.
"Tell me, Emily. Have you been dreaming of Greece?" Mike teases me, poking my sides.
A blush settles on my body.
"I think it would be magnificent, that's all," I responded.
We are standing before the Mano Cuisine now. I can see the alley from where I stand. Mike has his back to the restaurant as heplaces his hands on my face and leans closer to whisper in my ear, "I'd be delighted to have you as my bride in Greece." His words reverberate in my mind. It makes me envision a future where we will have enough money to afford a penthouse in Greece. He gives me a quick kiss. "Go up now. I'll watch you before I leave," he says. I look around and search for his truck, but it's absent. "Will you walk all the way home?" I know that his house is about 6 miles away from the restaurant. He smiles, "Don’t worry, I have this to keep me safe." He raises a slim band I had given him months ago when we first met.
Well, I never said he could have it, but he took it anyway.
That band is the only reminder of Mrs. Fox that I have left. She had worn the band on her wrist before I picked it up from her desk one day.
On Mike's wrist, it is less dingy.
"You should go. I have to check in on Veronika in the kitchen. I am sure she is still in; the back door is open," I responded.
He peers and realizes that the door is open indeed. He shrugs. "Fine, but stay outtatrouble, pumpkin. I can't lose my princess before we go to Greece."
He is just so sweet. It makes it hard not to want to please him. "Don't get any more cuts okay. I believe I have enough of your blood in my system to quiet my hunger." He makes an evil sound.
I shake my head and we say our final goodbyes, then he leaves while I saunter into the alley, conscious of the spot where the cake had been ruined. There are no traces of it; Veronika cleaned up thoroughly. I am self-conscious again. All my anxiety comes tumbling back. I think about the stranger and the possibility that he lurks in the shadows.
I shudder and head into the kitchen. My loafers hardly make any sound on the tiled floors, if not for the swish of my pleated skirt as I walk, I would startle Veronika upon my entrance, but when I glance around the space, the only person that remains is Paul who assists the butcher.
"You lost?" he asks, carrying a huge chunk of meat on a tray. I hear a buzzing sound somewhere; it must be from the cold room.
Their section is usually the last to retire for the night before security will survey the entire ground, all doors will be locked, then a night guard will take his station.
"Veronika?" I ask with a brow raised. His eyes narrow at me then travel further down, assessing what might be under my clothing.
I scowl, letting him know that I disapprove of such attention. I may appear meek, but I am not afraid to stamp a foot on the ground when the time comes to do so.
"She headed out not long ago," he says airily and looks away from me.
I am one of the senior staff at the restaurant. Paul is a newbie who finds it hard to give me the respect the rest of the staff have for me. To him, a young woman like me does not deserve the regard that protocol calls for. "Alright. I'll be gone now," I say firmly and dash out of the kitchen before he can say anything else. I am almost to the door when I hear voices coming from one of the storerooms. They are hushed voices, unfamiliar.
I take two steps back, and my ears crane to search for the distinct sounds. It's coming from the dry storage room, for all the baking Ingredients such as huge bags of flour and baking powder.
The sound gets clearer when I hide behind the door. No figure is visible from where I stand, but I am certain that whoever itis doesn't wish to be seen.
"You don't understand, I am only trying to do the right thing here. If your father was—"
"This has nothing to do with my fucking father. Don't bring him into this," a deeper voice cuts in. Where the first sounded polite and pleading, the second gives me chills.
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to…" the polite voice trails off. A sharp clang follows. I jump.
Silence.
Then— "What I am trying to say is that it's not in my power or yours to decide what happens to this place. I am sorry but there is not much I can do right now."
My muscles stiffen. Is therestaurant in some sort of danger? Who the hell are they anyway, to discuss the fate of the restaurant?I push closer to the door, peeking to catch the slightest glimpse of the gentlemen.
All I see is darkness. From my angle, the door won't allow me to see anything on the left side of the room, which I suspect is their position.
"Look around you. This place is gone. There is little left to keep the ship sailing. I never did ask for your opinion. I'm only letting you know my intentions. I'll tear this place down if you don't look into the necessary documents and hand over all I need."That voice.
The way in which the threat had been spoken.My mind becomes a storm of panic. I shuffle quickly away as footsteps creep closer to the hallway.