Free Second Chance Hero by Rebecca Sherwin Page B

he follows me, laying his things on one of the dusty tables.
    “It’s bigger inside than it looks from outside.”
    “It’s a great size. Bigger than my London shops.
I’ll make some tea.”
    “Thanks. White, no sugar.”
    Perry wanders around the front of the shop while I
go out to the back to put the kettle on. I take the tea out when it’s made and
Perry is writing up his measurements.
    “So...” He says, brushing the dust off of one of the
seats and sitting at the table, “What’s your plan?”
    “I want to keep the same theme as my other shops.
Contemporary fifties, girly rock and roll. I have some pictures.”
     
    I head behind the counter to get the photos out of
my bag and hear the bell above the door chime. I look up to see Perry and
Deacon shaking hands.
    “What are you doing here?” I shriek, choosing to
stay behind the counter so I don’t risk forcing him to withstand the physical torture
I want to make him endure for turning up again.
    “I had some spare time so I thought I’d pop by and
help out.”
    “I think we’re okay here actually.” I squeeze the
photos so tight they crumple and my hands begin to cramp.
    “It’s okay, Jenna and I were just going over the
design she wants here.”
    “I thought you were the surveyor?” Deacon eyes him
suspiciously, and then sits in my seat, crosses one ankle over the other and
takes a sip of my tea.
    “We’re all trained to do everything. Saves sending a
surveyor, then a designer, then someone to fit it. We get assigned a job and
someone heads it all the way through.”
    “And that, in this case, will be you?” He asks and
I’m sure I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. He can’t seriously be that
competitive over work.
    “Yes, that will be me.”
    “Okay. It’s good to know who we’ll be working with.”
    We?
    “Miss Rivera didn’t mention it being joint
business.”
    “That’s because it isn’t one.” There’s my voice,
“Mr. Reid is an old family friend and owns the construction company down the
road.”
    “Oh, yeah I’ve heard. D R and Son Construction and
Property Development.”
    Perry casts me a judgmental look; the kind of look
that wonders why I wouldn’t hire a family friend’s         million pound
company to create my cake shop.
    “So as we were discussing before we were
interrupted,” I finally calm down enough to be within six feet of Deacon, and
hand Perry the pictures of the two other shops.
    “I see the look you’re going for. It’s quirky.”
    “We needed something to attract attention in London.
I want it a little more subtle here, still with that theme but I want it to fit
in aesthetically with the town.”
    “That won't be a problem.” He tucks the pictures
into his drawing pad before Deacon can see them, “I have the measurements, I’ll
get the drafts dawn up and then give you a ring.”
    “That sounds great.”
    “So I guess that’s all for today. I’ll try and work
on these over the weekend and get back to you on Monday.”
    Perry shakes mine and Deacon’s hands once more and
leaves the shop.
     
     
    I take a deep breath, shake my head at Deacon, who
looks a little deflated, and head in to the back. It’s no surprise that he
follows me, but I just don’t want to talk to him. I make a start on some
raspberry ripple cupcakes I’m trying to perfect the recipe for, fully aware that
he’s watching everything I do.
    “I always loved watching you bake.” He says, leaning
against the counter, so close to me I can smell his delicious smell,
overpowering the raspberries and every one of my senses. All of sudden, my nose
smells nothing but him, my eyes see nothing but him, and my ears hear nothing
except for the steady breathing coming from his nose as he waits for my
response.
    “If you have to stand there and watch me, can you do
it in silence?” I crack some eggs over a bowl and separate the yolks from the
whites.
    “I’m trying to be nice.”
    “I don’t want you to be