Page 13 of There's Pumpkin About You
“What is that smell?” I ask her.
“Do you need to ask so rudely?” Cally asks.
I turn towards her, pushing my glasses up. “All I did was ask her what that smell was?”
“So you can tell her it smells bad, I’m assuming.”
Why the hell is that what she assumes?
“No, so I can know what the smell is. I like lemon.”
Lori blushes. “Oh, that’s a new addition actually. It’s a lemon and elderflower tart.”
I like elderflower, too.
I go to say that I’ll take two, but then I take a second and reassess. After clearing my throat, I ask, “Is the base the same as the strawberry ones?”
Lori nods.
I stole one from Bash last week and the texture didn’t make me want to throw up.
“I’ll take two,” I tell her.
She smiles awkwardly and gets to work.
“Right, yes,” Cally mumbles behind me. “Well, it was nice to see you, Lori, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Cally.”
The bell above the door rings as she leaves.
“I’m sorry about that,” Lori apologizes, surprising me. “She’s never normally like that.”
I turn to look at the door Cally just left through. “She is with me. I’m used to it.”
I decide not to dwell on it any further, not wanting to let anything ruin my day more than it already has been. I really hate coming into town.
“How much do I owe you?” I ask.
I pay what I owe and seem to surprise Lori when I say thank you before heading out. I take a bite out of one of the tarts and groan to myself—a perfect balance of sharp and sweet, the pastry just the right texture for my sensitive mouth.
Immediately after finishing the first one, I turn around and head straight into the bakery. When I enter the store for the second time, Lori looks shocked to see me.
“Hi.”
Her expression turns to mild concern. “Was everything okay with the tarts?”
“Yeah, they’re great.”
She pushes her glasses further up her nose and I mimic the gesture. She still looks confused bordering on concerned. I move further into the store, my broad shoulders taking up most of the space. I look down and realize that there are a few crumbs from the tart I scoffed down lingering on my plaid shirt and I quickly brush them away, an embarrassed blush creeping up my neck. The awkward atmosphere makes my skin itch.
I’m frustrated with myself. Why the fuck do people feel it okay to share their assumptions about me with others? And why do I let it happen? I am straightforward and blunt, yes, but not rude to people I’ve never met. I say things how it is. Having a conversation with others has never been my strong suit, but I at least used to try my best before this town decided to write me off as a rude, egotistical asshole.
Not only has this town put a massive dent in my self-esteem along with my ability to believe in myself, but so did I. I put a massive dent in my self-esteem because I let them do it. People like my father made me believe in a future, in being who I am without apology, and then took it all away from me. Stripped it from me and took away any belief I had in deserving either of those things. My career counts as my future and it’s the only thing I have left that cannot be taken from me. Well, not until I’m broke anyway.
But now there’s Wren, this woman that’s come out of nowhere and completely upended everything, demanding we rebuild the barn for her benefit. The bad part is that I’m completely aware that I’m most likely going to say yes eventually. What’s worse is that I’m going to say yes because of her and I know it. Bash teases me for me and I deny it, but he’s right. I don’t like her but I want her and that makes me hate her.
I need Wren Southwick gone.
