Page 103 of The Secret
I winced. The last thing I wanted after a night like last night was a confrontation.
“Hey, Ash?” I asked, turning back toward the counter. “Can you do me a solid?”
A minute later, I was safely out the back door of the bakery, in the alley behind the street. Micah’s truck and van were parked out there as expected, and he’d even left the door on the latch for me, despite the chill in the air, because he was the best boyfriend in the universe.
And if I got inside right now, I’d have nearly an entirehourto show him so, before he had to open the store.
I pushed open the heavy steel fire door… and paused.
The lights were on, and a stunning half-finished arrangement was sitting on the steel workbench, but Micah wasn’t there. I set my breakfast on the bench and took a breath to call his name, when I heard his raised voice coming from the office.
“My choices, and the reasons for them, are my concern. They are most certainly notyours!”
I almost grinned, because my boyfriend in a temper was a thing of beauty, as long as that temper wasn’t aimed at me, and I knew just how to calm him—
“It’s my business when it involves myson.”
Oh. Oh, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
I froze in place. Was this a nightmare? Had I fallen asleep at my desk at the station?
“It’s mybusiness,”my mother continued, “when my son is suddenly giving me ultimatums and slapping business proposals likethis oneon my desk.”
I heard the sound of paper slapping wood.
“Read it,” she challenged.
I didn’t hear a single sound that would indicate Micah moving.
“You don’t even need to read the proposal, do you?” she said. “You already know every word.”
“Angela—”
“What are you doing with Constantine?” she demanded. “Why are you trying to turn my son against me?”
Oh, Jesus.Drama, much?
“I told you last summer,” Micah said gently, “what’s between me and Constantine is none of your business.”
“Oh, God. This has been going on since last summer?” she wailed.
I rolled my eyes and without letting myself think about the consequences too much, I stepped into the office.
Micah’s eyes came to me first, since he was facing the door. He was leaning back with his hands resting on the arms of his chair, looking mostly bored. At least, until he sawme. Then, his eyes widened and he looked a little panicked.
My mother spun around, likely following the direction of Micah’s gaze, and when she spotted me,shelooked angry, but guilty, too.
“Hey,” I said, because I really had no idea what elsetosay.
“Hey,” Micah returned softly.
“Constantine, what are you doing here?” My mother tried to form this as a question, but it was really more like a plea. The look on her face said she knew exactly why I was there, she was just praying I’d tell her she was wrong.
I took a deep breath and glanced at Micah, who watched me intently, like he was almost as curious about what I was going to say as my mother was.
If I hadn’t felt like vomiting, it might have been funny.
