Finding Fate

by Ariel Ellens

  He swallows and I have the feeling that he’s thinking about kissing me. I’m not Becca-Ann, not even close. The closest thing to compare us is our bra size. That’s it. There’s no reason Stevie should want or need to kiss me.

  “If you miss her that much, do something,” I say.

  “But listen to me,” Stevie says, “I sound like we’re already together. She knows nothing about me. It’d be like a stranger telling her he’s in love with her.”

  “In love?”

  I gasp. My heart jumps a few beats.

  In love?

  I couldn’t imagine someone in love with Becca-Ann, let alone Becca-Ann feeling the same way. As far as I was concerned, this was just a little too-much-distance kind of lust thing. Maybe they’d get together, enjoy each other, and then figure out if they had a relationship.

  But love, like real love?

  “That’s intense,” I say. “If you really feel that way...”

  “Don’t worry, your sweetheart already gave me the lecture.”

  Stevie moves away from me and walks to the door.

  “Wait,” I cry out. “What did Colt say?”

  Stevie smiles. “I shouldn’t tell you... especially since you used me to make him jealous.”

  “Please? I’ll text Becca-Ann and tell her about your super hot lip ring.”

  Stevie licks the lip ring. I have him. I win.

  “When he stopped, I thought something was going to happen. I don’t like fighting, but he was really sincere. Calm, quiet, and cool as hell. He joked with me and said, ‘You don’t like Bella, I know that.’ So I asked, ‘How do you know that?’ He told me he could read it. He knew you were messing with him.”

  Damn, I was definitely caught. I’m sure Colt will try and make me pay for that.

  “Then he asked who I was in love with. I told him nobody but he said he could sense it. He could sense love. I thought he was just being a dick, but when he put his hand on my shoulder, he told me he understood. He knew how I felt. How distance might make a heart grow fonder but it makes it hurt more. So I spilled the beans about Becca-Ann. Then he said... something...”

  “Tell me,” I cry out. “Tell me.”

  “He told me that it’s worth everything. Everything in the world.”

  “What is?”

  Stevie smiles and opens the apartment door. Then he says one word. “Love.”

  The door shuts and my heart is racing.

  Love?

  I certainly didn’t love Colt. I didn’t even know him.

  But did he love me?

  -Chapter 8-

  Three days.

  That’s how long it’s been since... everything.

  Three days since I’ve talked to Becca-Ann. Three days since I’ve seen Stevie. Three days since I’ve gone to see my mother. And three days since Colt.

  The last time I saw him, three days ago, we exchanged phone numbers.

  Just like that.

  So quick, my mind leaving everything out about his nightclub and the shooting. He hasn’t text me yet and I won’t be the one to talk to him first. I don’t want to seem anxious, even though I really am.

  Of course today has to be the day where nobody comes into the bakery. All my orders are done by eleven and all I have to do is wait for them to be picked up. I know I should bring a computer to the bakery but I feel bad if I’m not always working. I feel like Grammie and Grandpa are watching me and that they’ll shoot lightening at the computer. I have my cell phone but it’s screen is too small to do anything. I can get the wi-fi from the laundromat next door and I really should bring in my laptop. But what would that do? I’d spend all day researching more about Colt.

  I don’t want to find anything else about him.

  It worries me.

  I lean on the counter, my chin in my hands. I sigh, feeling the world swirling around me. None of my thoughts make sense, they’re just random words and phrases sticking together and falling apart.

  I fall sleep, long enough that my hands move away and my face hits the counter. I hit the glass with a thud and jump back, screaming. I bump into a warm oven and then catch my breath. As I look around I expect to see someone in the bakery wielding a gun or knife.

  There’s nobody.

  Scaring myself isn’t a complete waste of time, I now get to clean the smudge mark on the counter. Which reminds me that I should wash my face better or something. I don’t want any pimples on my face, in case Colt...

  My phone vibrates and beeps.

  I jump again.

  I look and there it is. Finally. A message from Colt.

  What’s cooking?

  I laugh. Corny, cheap, cute. I think about Colt typing it, his muscles and tattoos. Yeah, it’s beyond cute now, it’s sexy.

  I hurry to type back, wishing I can come up with something cute. Or flirty. Or sex.

  Bread.

  That’s what I send. The word ‘bread’. That’s it. One word. One obvious word since I work in a bakery and Colt knows that.

  My phone beeps again.

  Okay... I miss you.

  He misses me? Now I type faster, keeping myself on the edge of reality.

  How can you miss me? We don’t know each other.

  I close my eyes and hate myself. Why can’t I just lose myself and flirt with the hot guy through text messages?

  I can fix that. Close up and meet me.

  I see myself doing it before I see myself laughing and being responsible. My fingers twitch, knowing what I want and knowing what I should do.

  As I close my eyes again, I just type...

  Can’t. I’m the only one here.

  I wish I didn’t send it. I wish I said yes and I wish I was already out the door to meet him.

  Colt replies with persistence.

  Put a sign up and come meet me. Lie for me, Bella, but never to me.

  Wow, that’s hot. Really hot. The tempting kind of hot that has me looking at the drawer where I keep the pens and paper.

  Then another text comes through.

  I’m not playing games, Bella. There’s something about you. I need you out of that bakery. With me. In my arms...

  His arms.

  His strong arms.

  It seems so easy and makes so much sense. I’ve been standing here way to long by myself, haven’t I? Bearing the brunt of life, nobody to hold me and have me. Not even to protect me but just to give me that peace of mind for a few minutes.

  My finger touches my phone, ready to give the final answer.

  The phone goes off again.

  I’m outside A-Annie’s. Sitting at a table for two. See you soon.

  He just assumes I’ll be there? What gives him the right...

  Leaving now.

  That’s what I write because it’s the truth. It’s how I feel and I can’t believe I’m doing it. This is intense. This is amazing.

  I find a piece of paper and a black marker.

  CLOSED DUE TO EMERGENCY.

  I look at it, nodding.

  Perfect.

  People will see emergency, think of my grandparents, and sympathize. It’s so wrong, but whatever, I need this.

  I hurry and add - WE APOLOGIZE - then I get to the front door and tape the paper to it. I linger for a few seconds and casually remind myself that if someone were to come to the door I’d have to open it. Then I’d have to lie on the spot, which I can’t do.

  A minute later I’m in my car and driving. I have to go down Main Street to get to A-Annie’s restaurant. That means I get to drive by the bakery. I slow and see the sign in the door, slightly crooked, and I smile.

  I shouldn’t be smiling, but I am.

  I really am.

  I’m off to meet Colt.

  Then something hits me...

  Is this a date?

  -Chapter 9-

  I keep driving but I keep looking in mirror, expecting to see someone chasing me. Maybe Mrs. Lowery, holding her walker in the air, shaking it, demanding her bread. I laugh and realize how
insane that is... almost as insane as closing your business early to meet a stranger.

  I turn the corner to A-Annie’s and I can see Colt. Even in the distance, knowing it’s him, drives my heart wild. I’m not sure at this point if I want him or if I need him. Either way, this is intense.

  There’s no spot near the restaurant so I have to park almost two blocks away. The walk is the longest walk of my life but all the thoughts, worries, concerns are washed away when Colt stands from the small, two seated table and folds his arms, trying to look big and bad. He smiles, unable to help himself as I stand at a makeshift black bar that keeps the patrons separated from the people walking by.

  Colt puts his hand out, taking mine, and he pulls.

  “Step over,” he says.

  “No, I’ll go inside and walk through.”

  “You just closed the bakery to meet me... and you’re worried about stepping over this?”

  He laughs and I blush.

  Damn, he’s winning at this game again. This flirty, commanding game. I’m usually good at this stuff. I’m usually able to win boys over with my looks, my features, my flirting capability. But Colt is just different and so new...

  I step over the bar and Colt ushers me to my seat. There’s a glass of water with a lemon and he points to it.

  “Wasn’t sure what you really wanted to drink,” he says. “Just got some water for now.”

  “Oh, thanks. I’m not really hungry or thirsty.”

  “But you met me at a restaurant.”

  “You said you were here.”

  Colt leans forward, one eyebrow raised. “Where would you want me to be?”

  I roll my eyes but the redness of my cheeks gives it away that I enjoy the banter.

  “This place is so busy,” I say. “I had to park like a mile away.”

  “You have to get here at the right time,” Colt says.

  “Right time?”

  “Sure. Before the lunch rush... all the suits and ties come here along with the regulars. Not me, I time it all out.” He snaps his fingers and points.

  I turn my head and twenty feet away, if that, is a black motorcycle.

  Colt parked where he wanted to sit.

  The front wheel of the bike is turned in and the sleek machine rests on a kickstand. It’s so simple and so black, it fits Colt. I can’t help but imagine being on the back of that thing, my hands wrapped around Colt’s body. My fingers interlocked. Getting comfortable. One of my hands breaking away, moving down...

  “Bella? Hey, are you okay?”

  I blink and look at Colt. “I’m fine. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I was talking and you were ignoring me.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

  “Oh, I think you do.”

  A young waitress comes to the table. She has curly brunette hair and has done her best to pull it all back to keep it out of her face. Some of the curly strands have made their escape and while you may think it looks messy, it looks cute. It fits her pretty face and smile.

  That’s when I see Colt, devouring her with his eyes.

  “Sandy, this is my good friend, Bella,” Colt says and points to me.

  “Bella, hello.”

  “Hi,” I say.

  Colt then touches the waitress’s wrist. “Sandy is going to be lawyer in a few years.”

  I look at Sandy. She bites her lip.

  Good for her. What the hell do I care?

  “What I was telling Sandy,” Colt says, still touching the waitress’s wrist, “is that she should work hard in school but here at the restaurant. Learns the ins and outs of the business and then she can become my lawyer because she’ll have food and entertainment experience. Isn’t that right?”

  Sandy giggles, overcome by Colt.

  I almost feel bad for the girl now.

  Is this how he is with everyone?

  He wiggles his way in to get something for himself? If that’s the case, he still hasn’t said what he expects from me.

  “Do you need anything?” Sandy asks, her eyes locking to Colt’s.

  “We’re fine for now,” Colt says. “Go learn the business.”

  Sandy nods and struts away, probably feeling like a new woman. Feeling on top of the world because a really hot guy just talked to her about her college and professional career.

  “Sandy, huh?” I ask.

  “Jealous, huh?” he asks.

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. Sandy is a sweetheart. I’ve known her for almost ten years. Her mother and my mother were best friends for the longest time.”

  “Old girlfriend then?”

  “Not even close,” Colt says. “Just a really good friend. One that comes in handy if I wanted to make someone jealous. Works like a charm. Doesn’t it?”

  Now he’s talking about what happened with Stevie yesterday and I refuse to directly answer that question or go near it.

  “So what do you want from me?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re slick and smooth. You’re like a salesman. You tell our waitress to learn the business to become your lawyer. You come to my bakery... why? What do you want from it?”

  Colt blinks once and sits up straight. His face is serious and the way he looks at me, we’re the only two people in the world. Everything else has fallen around us. It’s just me and him.

  “You.”

  It’s a single word but the impact hits like a good romance story.

  I feel a warm gush in my heart that spreads outward and I want to fight it, my mind trying its best to keep things under control.

  What about the article? What about the shooting? What about his comments?

  “Is that so wrong?” he asks, then reaches for his drink.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m used to working all day and tending to family things at night. Then you come walking in...”

  “I know a thing or two about family,” Colt says. “And as far as your bakery goes, I smelled something good and saw a bakery. Like I told you, I’m thinking of opening something new very soon. A bakery like yours mixed with the aura of my cafés.”

  So there it is. He wants to know about the bakery. I want to feel deflated but I won’t show it on the outside. No way.

  “Can you tell me anything about your bakery?”

  I sip my water, wishing there was something stronger in it. Then I wish I stayed at the bakery, doing the right thing.

  “I’m not telling you how it works,” I say. I’m catty and I don’t care.

  “Bella, I’m not asking for secrets,” Colt says. “I’m just asking about the bakery, about you. Okay?”

  “You know, nobody calls me anything but Isabella.”

  “I don’t care. I call you Bella. You look like a Bella to me.” Then he does this move where his back stiffens and he adds, “Bella.”

  That much can be true. Nobody calls me Bella and nobody would get away with it. Except Colt.

  “You want to know about the bakery,” I say. “Okay... my grandparents opened after a winter storm. For whatever reason they had power and my grandmother started to bake. She handed out loaves of bread to anyone who wanted it. Those people loved it so much they asked for more, and different kinds. By the time spring came, they had a little side business that had my grandmother baking ten hours a day. So they opened the bakery.”

  Colt nods. “That’s a beautiful story.”

  “They bought the building, and my grandfather tweaked it a little so the smell would float around town...”

  “That’s what did it for me,” Colt says.

  “There you go. Even gone from this world, my grandfather is still luring people in.”

  “Sorry for the loss.”

  “They’re both gone, actually.”

  “That’s sad to hear,” Colt says. “That’s why you run the place?”

  I lick my lips. Am I really teetering on this edge? Am I really going to tell Colt some of this story? Then aga
in, maybe he’s the perfect one to share it with. He’s still like a stranger to me. He could take it for what it’s worth and do what he wants with it. At least it’ll be off my chest.

  “My grandmother got cancer a few years ago. And it spread fast. When she couldn’t bake, I stepped in full time, leaving school and everything. My mother... she, uh, doesn’t have the magic touch, I guess you could say.”

  “Doesn’t want a thing to do with the business?” Colt asks.

  “She does... the money part of it.”

  Colt nods. There’s suddenly pain behind his eyes. Maybe we have something in common here.

  “Can I ask you something?” I ask.

  “You finish,” Colt says.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “What’s your plan for the place?”

  “How so?”

  “You’re dying, aren’t you?”

  The question hits hard and takes away a slight feeling of romance as I share my heart to Colt.

  “Dying? I’m in good health.”

  “The business,” Colt says. “I can tell by the dust on tables and the feeling inside the place.”

  “Well, since the bread sucks so bad, it’s no wonder, right?”

  Colt laughs. “You take things to heart, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I don’t take things to heart, but I can offer my heart, to the right person.”

  There’s a pause between us and I’m not going to be the one to break it.

  Colt finally does.

  “All I’m saying is that you just told me a beautiful story about your grandparents. Why not tell it inside the bakery? Why not bring in coffee, music, and create a place for people to hang out at?”

  My mind imagines Colt ‘hanging out’ in his club, kicking out a bullied gay man and his boyfriend only to be shot...

  “What’s wrong?” Colt asks. “Am I offending you?”

  “No, I’m listening.”

  “Good.”

  “But everyone knows about my grandparents.”

  “I didn’t,” Colt says. “And anyone in this town who is new or who is under the age of, what, fifty, probably doesn’t know. For all they know, you’re just some bakery. Some kid running a bakery.”

  “Some kid?” Now I’m starting to get offended.

  “Don’t take it like that,” Colt says. “I’m going to be twenty-eight in a few months and people still think I’m a kid.”