Free Just Desserts by Jeannie Watt

and headed for the door, only to run straight into Walter’s six-foot-two-inch frame. She looked up at the security man’s stern face as he took hold of her arm.
     
    He didn’t exactly frog-march her out of the office, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold. Layla was “escorted” down the hall and out the door into the rear parking lot. Only then did his expression soften.
     
    “Sorry about that,” he muttered.
     
    “Why did she do this?” Layla asked, tears starting to sting her eyes now that reaction was setting in and she was far enough away from the Wicked Witch of the West not to lose face.
     
    Walter’s mouth flattened and he looked slightly embarrassed at his role in the matter. She’d always gotten along well with him. “Common practice so dismissed employees don’t have the opportunity to vandalize anything in anger.”
     
    “I understand,” Layla said automatically. But she didn’t. She didn’t understand any of this. Last Friday she’d been a happy teacher about to go on vacation. Now she was an unhappy teacher without a job.
     
    All because of…way too many things that seemed to align at one time. A perfect cosmic junction of bad luck, and Layla had been smack in the center of it.
     
    The tears that had built up started to fall, streaming down her cheek as she walked to her car, head down. She refused to wipe them away in case Ella or Melinda or anyone else was watching from a window. And the crazy thing was they were more tears of anger than anything else. Layla felt steamrolled. Misused.
     
    And mad as hell about it.
     
    The depression phase would no doubt follow the anger, but right now she was hanging on to her outrage, because it helped numb any other emotions that might come crashing down on her.
     
    She got into the car and slammed the door before staring blankly out the window. So where did she go now?
     
    Home? Sam’s place?
     
    She swallowed the giant lump in her throat and started the engine, hoping she could get out of the parking lot without giving in to the very strong urge to smash her car straight into Melinda’s little blue Mitsubishi Eclipse.
     
    Maybe Melinda hadn’t engineered this, but she was benefiting, and she’d been screwing Layla’s boyfriend at night and smiling at Layla during the day.
     
    JUSTIN’S HEADACHE HAD abated after a couple hours of work, so he had no excuse for snapping at Eden when she asked why he’d taken another cake order when he was already swamped. Wearily, she made a face and headed out of his room, obviously writing his bad mood off to the hangover.
     
    He braced his hands on the table and let his head drop after Eden closed the door with exaggerated care. He’d taken the cake order because he wanted to bury himself in work. Keep from thinking.
     
    Ten years.
     
    His son had made it ten years without him. He’d made it for ten years without knowing anything about his son. And they’d been okay years. No reason he couldn’t continue the way he had up until now—except that he couldn’t shake the questions, which in turn led to the guilt.
     
    What if his son had needed him and he hadn’t been there?
     
    He turned the music up another couple notches and started dropping butter into the mixing bowl. He was, of course, making a birthday cake today. One of dozens he’d made over the past few years, so it shouldn’t bother him. He wasn’t going to let it bother him. Determined, he set to work.
     
    “YOU SHOULD HAVE SMACKED her car,” Sam said adamantly. “Just nicked the bumper, if nothing else. I think you missed an opportunity.”
     
    Layla tried to smile, but couldn’t get the job done. She should have gone home. Should have accepted the transfer to Life Skills. Should have simply gone to work every day and put up with Melinda living her—Layla’s—life, teaching her classes, sleeping with her boyfriend.
     
    Layla let out a low groan. She was ashamed. Embarrassed.
     
    What had happened to her newly discovered