Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2 (19 page)

“Well then.” I scan the room which has a king size bed, frames of my family and his. The walls are a light greenish, and the comforter is black with white accents. Cozy, but I don’t get why he’s doing this. “Let me remind you, I’ve never slept with you and you have slept with other women. You have everything backwards. Also, where am I going to sleep, the other room?”

“No.” He says. “That’s the guest room. For when my brother or parents visit, hopefully not anytime soon. I’ve only slept with you. I’ve fucked plenty of women I hooked up with but never at my house, and they know the score.”

“Playboy style?” Of course, like my brothers who sleep around and sometimes forget to ask for names. “What’s the so called score?”

“Not sure what that means—playboy style,” he goes to one of the doors and shows me the closet where my clothes are hanging or folded. “The score is we go out, have fun, get some release and do it again some other day when we have time. I keep a woman around for a few months, until they get clingy.”

“You don’t count the others?”

“Chloe never stayed at my old place.” His growl doesn’t go unnoticed. “She had places to go, things to do and I can bet crack to smoke. Back then, I lived in Brooklyn, and she hated my place and hers was off limits—I’ve no idea why. So, cuddling is a thing I only do with fake wives.”

“She smoked crack or is that some way to insult her?”

“Crack, shot cocaine, smoked pot among others and for your information, she died of an overdose, Hayley,” he sighs. “After those months we were together, I didn’t see her until she reappeared as the girlfriend of a friend of ours. Coincidentally Jake had flown from Mom’s grasp and stayed with me to work on his recovery. That’s when we learned about her drug habits and that she was a high paid escort. Yes, I fucked a whore. However, in my defense, I didn’t know, and I never paid her. You like to fantasize about my eternal love for her, but there is none. The only thing I have for her is pity; she’s Emma’s sister and in some freaked way, family. I did stupid things during that time. Drank too much each time she broke up with me, and… The woman made an ass out of me and I swore I would never put myself in that position again. Ever. This is the last time we discuss any Chloe related issues.”

Startled by so much information about her makes me gasp.

“That request sounds reasonable.” I try to form some coherent sentences after his speech left me mute, but my big mouth continued. “Yet, I don’t believe that you aren’t stuck on her,” I say. If it had been a light affair, his wounds would’ve healed by now. Then if I add Jordan to the conversation, he might not like me at all. I bet he had her in his bed. “Chloe’s forgotten. The matter in hand is, can we take my stuff back? I’m not living here; my house is two blocks from here.”

“We agreed you’ll learn to live with me.” He takes my hand and shows me the kitchen that has two ovens and a sub-zero, a bigger kitchen than the one in my studio. “While we live frugally from our normal people incomes—whatever that is.”

“You won’t last more than a month,” I insist.

“I’ll last at least a year,” he says placing his fists on his waist. “How long will you last?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, I guess,” and I’m wondering how he did it again, made me accept another one of his challenges. “You’re going to be the death of me, Knight.”

“You’ll have fun in the meantime, Muffet.”

Mitch

T
here’s no peace
inside the sanctuary of my office. This woman is going to drive me insane.

“You’re shitting me,” I comb my hair with one hand as I look at the river and wonder if I should dump my wife there. “How did you come up with these fucked up numbers, Hayley Mae?”

“Internet?” her soft laugh comes from the other line.

“Add some vacations, entertainment and don’t forget my leisure expenses.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she mumbles. “I have to go; Mom is about to enter the shop, thank goodness Dad has already done his scene of the day.”

“Good luck, Muffin,” I hang up and look at the email she sent again, one I hope she revises.

Of course, I can go for months being normal; my expenses are low key but this is ridiculous. I’ll renegotiate this treaty; twelve months abiding by this insanity should get me something in exchange. S-E-X.

“Mr. Knight,” my assistant knocks at the open door. “Mr. Welsh is looking for you, sir.”

Augustine Welsh doesn’t wait for me to welcome him into my office, he walks around my assistant and enters.

“Knight, I want to review that contract.” The man doesn’t trust me, and I give him points for looking after his child. Not that I’d embezzled her, still, I’m glad to see he cares. “For all I know, you can take away her business under her nose and she’d be left without her future.”

“Future?”

Yesterday he reminded her that the open enrollment for the summer online courses to start her college classes would remain open only for another two weeks. She needs to think about her future, the bakery isn’t a forever deal. Now he wants to talk about me ruining her future?

“Of course,” he tells me. “She’s making a name for herself. Right now it’s a few cakes per week but soon she’ll be able to do more and I can see her in a year or two being the person all Manhattan wants to hire to bake their wedding, christening, birthday or any occasion cakes.”

I grind my teeth, avoiding a fight, just yesterday he recommended her to start looking at a different career path.

“Hayley, this shop won’t last forever,” he said with that soft condescending voice he pulls only with her. “Your numbers are dropping, you want to avoid heading to bankruptcy. You better listen to me; Hayley or you’ll end up in a bad place.”

Her numbers are perfect; she’s doing great and there’s no way in hell she’ll end up closing if she continues working hard. I don’t understand this man.

“You could fuel her business and accelerate the process, Mr. Welsh.” As soon as I say it, I want to bite my tongue for giving him ideas when the last thing Hayley wants is her family’s intrusion. “As for my agreement with her, I’ll pay fair price for her products.”

“Contract,” he extends his hand.

I print it and hand it to him because there’s nothing sketchy about the document; everything is straight forward. She bakes for me; I’m her priority, after my order is filled, she can do her thing. My restaurants are in this case taking most of her daily production. The cupcake orders would decrease the time she’ll have available for her store products. If her customers can’t get it there, they can drop by my stores where we’ll fill their order. All part of my plan for convincing her to get help by hiring personnel.

“You can’t demand almost a hundred percent of her production.” Welsh says while scanning the document. “You’re technically hiring her to work for you without paying her as an employee. What’s the motive?”

“You’re confused, sir.”

“She’ll determine the quantities,” Welsh demands. “If production needs to increase, then you’ll suggest her to hire a third party to assist. No, she’ll hire them as early as tomorrow.”

I agree with him, while inside I’m congratulating myself for doing a great job. From what I gathered, he steers her away from growing. Now he’s doing what I want without knowing it. One point for us, zero to her insane family.

“I’m taking this with me and will have my son rewrite it. Listen, Knight, if you try to jeopardize the only thing she has right now, I’ll make sure you don’t take another breath.”

The only thing she has right now? I want to punch him. If it weren’t for his stupid advice, Hayley would run a much different bakery by now.

“I assure you, sir—”

“You think I’m new at this?” He sets his jaw, and those pale eyes turn into fire with the same intensity his daughter’s do when she’s upset. Though, she doesn’t say much while that’s happening, only letting the fireworks consume her, most of the time unnoticed by whoever is in front of her. “You don’t succeed in my line of work without knowing how to detect bullshit and this, Knight, has the notorious smell of it.”

With that, he makes his way outside my office. I pat myself on the back, with the right strategy; this might be easier than I thought. We—she—have a great product. One we can market nationwide through a website while…

“Knight,” I look up and find Augustine Welsh stomping his way back into my office and like his child, pointing his index finger at me. I wonder why they do it; does it have magical powers I don’t know about? “Don’t try to mess with her emotionally either, she’s not the kind of girl you are used to.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, sir.”

The man cares more for Hayley than I expected; that’s good for Hayl. She needs someone on her side.

*

When I arrive
home, she’s wearing yet another hideous t-shirt with a logo of some old band I haven’t heard in years—Depeche Mode. Her torn jeans are baggy and the relief of not having to try to keep my dick down washes over my entire body.

“Dad called,” a lighthearted smile creases her lips. “He emailed me a new contract, something
less predatory
, as he said, Muffin boy.”

“Man, Muffin Man.” I wink at her. “I received it too; did you do some of the revisions?”

Hayley shrugs and heads to the kitchen. I follow and find some ingredients out and a bunch of utensils.

“What are you making me?” The scent of sweet bread is starting to overtake my home.

“You,” she shakes her head. “Nothing, I’m trying to make piña colada frosting, since I can’t eat pineapple, I’ll use you as my guinea pig.”

“Liquor in it?” I ask when I spot the melon liquor and rum. Too girly. “Should I remind you what happened the last time you got me drunk? Or is this a way to take advantage of me Mrs. Knight?”

“In your dreams, Mitchel,” she starts mixing. “Did you sign the contract?”

“You’ve no idea what I dream, Baby.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she ignores me. “Yes, I signed; there are way too many revisions to the contract. Who set that ridiculous schedule?”

“Dad, I added the part where you have to submit your request within forty-eight hours,” she says as she keeps whisking and adding things inside the bowl. “But we gave you the right to suggest and participate in the hiring process, isn’t that a sweet deal?”

“Never in my life have I gotten a better one,” I suppress my desire to snort. “As a quick disclosure, I’d never take it away from you—the bakery.”

There’s no response as she busies herself with her new experiment. Unbelievable. She only trusts the people that usually let her down. If only she could learn to stand up for herself.

“After this we need to talk.” She takes a plastic spoon, dips it into the frosting and hands it to me.

“I’d add more pineapple,” I can’t taste it at all. “About?”

“The budget, your new salary, dear husband,” she grins, a scary evil grin.

Fuck.

Hayley

“H
ow did you
come up with these fucked up numbers?” Mitch rises to his feet and paces the living room. “Right, Internet. I pay my people more than that. You want me to live on five thousand dollars a month while paying thirty-nine hundred dollars a month for rent?”

I try to restrain the laughter that his downcast expression evokes. Yes, I can be evil.

“You’re giving me fifty dollars for entertainment, vacation and leisure. What is wrong with you?”

I’m starting to believe that he never thinks his dares through, but I give it to him, he works hard to renegotiate.

“Did you take in account my ten years of experience, my master’s degree and all my training?”

I shake my head.

“That’s at least two or three thousand more a month, isn’t it? We’ll live here; I own the place.”

“Yeah, I imagined as much,” with that, I hand him a list of non-profits. “Which is why you’ll donate those thirty-nine hundred to charity for as long as this lasts.”

He spikes his hair with both hands and stops right in front of me.

“Oh, come on, Mitch. You said you could do it. I’ll give you those two thousand more, but you’re going to have to keep working at the bakery.”

“Twenty-five hundred,” he retorts.

“Twenty-five hundred sounds good, plus my salary which isn’t bad for a baker should keep us afloat, darling.” I don’t know why I say the last word with an English accent but it grants me a smile. “Now let’s go and open a checking account where you’ll make a deposit of the only money you can have until we’re done with the challenge. Hand me that wallet of yours, I need all your pretty credit cards.”

As his gaze remains fixed on my face, he hands me the wallet. Then those eyes narrow in a warning. “You’re not a very nice person, Muffet.”

I ignore him and empty it, leaving only his driver’s license, cash, some business cards and a key. When I finish, I push back his wallet gifting him the biggest smirk I have.

“At least leave me one card for emergencies and my condom, Hayley Mae Roth-Welsh-Knight.” he takes his black card and condom, puts them back inside the wallet without waiting for me to agree and then shoves it in his pants pocket.