Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Where were you, Anton?” She huffs, flinging her arms out like she’s exasperated. “Where were you when your family needed you?”
I clench my jaw, wishing I could banish her from my life for good. It’s only because of Roman I haven’t cut all ties with her yet. But now, cutting all ties with both of them sounds like heaven.
“I don’t answer to you,” I say coolly.
She almost smiles, as if she’s handling a stubborn child and not her powerful ex. “Anton, it just doesn’t make sense. You were nowhere to be found when your fam—”
“You are not family,” I remind her.
“When your son needed you,” she amends.
I don’t want to get into this. It peeves me that my son needs me instead of how I should be needing him and his servitude.
“Roman is a grown man.” I stand. “When is he going to act like one?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re too harsh on him.”
I stride past her, out of patience for her plastic face and her wheedling, whiny tone.
“Wait. What—Where are you going? Anton, I just got here.”
“I didn’t invite you to come speak with me, about Roman or anything else. I have a meeting to get to.”
She growls behind me, clearly frustrated. “That’s all you ever do! Work and work and—Anton. Can’t we talk? For a minute?”
I blank my expression as I stride through the hallway. Catching the eye of one of the guards, I give him a look. That’s all it takes. An order without a word.
He gets it, stepping in to intervene and steer Elena away from me as I walk in the other direction.
Her protests fall on deaf ears.
Viktor is at my side again, handing me a file with documents about the deal I’ll be talking to some city councilmen about in a matter of minutes.
I let out a heavy exhale, shifting gears to be on and working.
Putting distance between Elena and me is a start to quell my anger, but only thoughts of Liliana truly appease me as I resume my full duties of pakhan once again.
13
LILIANA
That new-year feeling wore off fast. Snowstorms and medical woes have taken up most of the time around here, so I’m surprised we’re already coming up on the end of February.
“I really thought that we’d be looking at a better number after the Valentine’s Day rush,” Jenni says as she leans against the doorframe. This “office” at the bakery feels more like a glorified closet space but it hardly matters how big the supposedly administrative room is. All I need is a laptop to prop on a narrow desk. Now that I’ve finally convinced my parents to go all digital, there’s no point in keeping files and bulky containers of paperwork. Any spare space in here is for storage—like the stack of crates that hold ingredients and paper liners among other non-perishables.
I let out a rough exhale. “Me too,” I agree. As soon as the words slip out, though, I frown. “Actually, no.”
I would have liked the bakery to be turning more of a profit, especially with the Valentine’s Day season over the last few weeks. Sales did tick up with the heart-shaped cookies and cupcakes, then the new breads that Jenni and I planned. But that bump hasn’t been high enough to undo all the lows.
Since the holidays, and into the new year, it’s been a struggle to keep sales up. And that’s without even trying my delivery idea.
“I mean, business looked good,” Jenni says with a worried expression. It’s a sincere sentiment. Since I moved in with her after I broke up with Roman, I get to see my good friend and coworker both at the bakery and at home. She’s a worrier by nature, but these numbers are concerning.
“Yes, it did,” I agree as I look at the calendar again and do the math on how long we’ve been fighting to stay afloat. Red marker rings the dates when loan payments were due. A penciled-in circle marks when my mother fell and broke her hip. “But if you take the loan repayments and their steep interest rates into account…” I narrow my eyes and seethe all over again, pissed about the “terms” that supposedly got altered without a word of warning.
“And then hiring Rob and Margarita,” she adds.
I nod along, tallying up those expenses. No wonder I haven’t been able to get the delivery side of the business going. When my mother fell and broke her hip, we paid out of pocket, since their insurance had lapsed. Then, with her out and my father staying at the hospital and later the rehab facility because she was so hard of hearing and frail, we needed two more people to fill their spots. Hence, Rob and Margarita. My parents had been working without paying themselves wages, so covering two new employees on the books has been a huge hit.