Page 79 of Wicked Flavors

Gwen picked up the doll, staring at the creation with pride. This mini version of her was beautiful. All she needed to do now was paint on the red lip and she would be all set. Yanking open a drawer, Gwen searched through her paints. She needed a shade that wouldn’t pull away from the pink she used on the doll’s outfit.

The sudden knock on the door was like reality bursting into her sanctuary. Gwen froze, suddenly aware of how much her hands really hurt. It couldn’t have been him. It sounded too ordinary compared to his previous knocks. She thought about ignoring it, pretending she wasn’t home when the knock came again.

Was it possible he had come back?

Gwen didn’t want to hope, but before she could stop, her feet were moving. Slow steps soon hurried toward the door. Hope gripped her, the urge to rip the door open and throw her arms around him growing with every beat of her battered heart.

It was a mistake.

I’m sorry.

I’ll have you however I can get you, just please let me keep you—

When Gwen jerked the door open, she was met with horrible disappointment. It wasn’t Ambrosius behind her front door, but someone she hadn’t been expecting.

“Sierra?”

The young woman looked different out of the work uniform. She imagined everyone did, but it was different seeing it outside of that building. Dressed in a white laced tank top, distressed jeans, and strappy sandals, Sierra looked like any other young college woman in the summer.

“Hi … can we talk?” Sierra asked, wringing her hands together.

The bracelets on her wrists clacked as she did.

The last thing Gwen wanted to do was talk to one of the two people she had publicly shamed. It kind of defeated the purpose of telling someone off. But the disappointment and heartache still weighed on her shoulders. She could blame it on him as Gwen slowly stepped back.

“Come in,” Gwen gestured.

Sierra’s smile was small as she stepped inside. Gwen led her toward her small kitchen to sit at the table. The high of her creative burst was wearing down, and the exhaustion from focusing so hard for so long slowly crept into Gwen’s frame. The sensation gave her something to focus on as she waited for Sierra to collect her thoughts.

“Gwen, I’m sorry,” Sierra said. “I misunderstood and ran my mouth. It’s just—you didn’t seem like the type to have an eating disorder, and when I heard Tom said he slept with you, I just thought … well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought. The point is, I was a gossipy, awful coworker and I’m sorry I said what I did.”

The words lingered in the silence of the room for a moment. Maybe Sierra hadn’t been malicious on purpose, but out of hurt. If Sierra was hung up on Tom the way Gwen thought she was, it must have really upset her to think he slept with someone else. The idea of Ambrosius being with anyone but her made Gwen sick, but it didn’t surprise her.

Gwen had never been good at sharing.

“I didn’t sleep with Tom,” she said, quietly but firmly.

“I know that now. I … I feel stupid for thinking he did,” Sierra said, a bit teary-eyed. “I’m sorry, I have my period and everything is so…”

Fucking god damn fuck.

“It’s fine, Sierra—”

“No, it isn’t! I was awful and a complete bitch, and I can’t believe I thought Tom and I had something.” Sierra winced, clutching her lower belly. “What a time to run out ofMidol. I should go to the pharmacy.”

If this was genuine or not, Gwen wasn’t going to argue. Sierra was basically giving her an out from a conversation Gwen didn’t want to deal with. She followed her former coworker to the door and fumbled for a moment as to what to say to the young woman. Luckily, Sierra’s gift for gab filled the awkward silence for her.

“I really am sorry, Gwen. I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”

Gwen wasn’t sure why, but there was something … odd about her words. She had been distracted with her own emotions for most of their encounter. Gwen hadn’t even registered any of Sierra’s, but the most awful smell was coming off of her now.

Like every item off a fast-food menu blended with vodka and served in a dirty ashtray.

“Someday.”

Gwen shut the door, letting out a tired sigh. She was starting to feel peckish, and with a refrigerator full of food that only sort of tasted like anything, Gwen would have to venture outside. If she had been smart, she should have feasted on Sierra, but that smell hadn’t been appetizing in the slightest. Not at all like the delicious scent of apple pie Dr. Monday had.

Maybe I should eat him?

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