Cake Love: All Things Payne(12)

Stepping further into the shop I look at the one person in line, a man with no umbrella. I walk up behind him and peer around the room. The walls are covered with odd knick-knacks of figurines holding coffee cups and various children’s art work framed in sleek metal and white frames. Most of the black tables and dark booths are taken by couples. There is a lone man who is about sixty sitting in an overstuffed leather chair staring at me with a big grin. Oh God is that him? He lied! He's not thirty-four!

My eyes dart around him and see an umbrella but it's one of those big black golf umbrellas. Maybe he's planning on using it to knock me unconscious or kill me. Those things can be weapons. I know someone accidentally stabbed me in the boob with one once in college. I had to get three stitches.

I look around the room again in desperation and see a hand cradling a blue plaid umbrella. It's a man's hand but he is in a booth with his back to me, so I can't make him out. Oh thank God it's not the sixty year old. Some people may be into the older guy thing, but not me.

My gaze falls back to the older man and notice he is now leering at a group of women at a table near him. Perv!

After a few moments I'm next and recite my order to the bored barista as he stands in front of a wall of coffee beans encased in glass. When I get the warm latte I take a deep breath and casually walk across the light bamboo flooring to the booth that holds the plaid umbrella. As I turn to face him I stop dead and drop my coffee.

"Mr. Payne?"

His eyes look over me in confusion until he sees the red umbrella in my hand and his eyes go wide.

"Morgan...Morgana?"

Oh SHIT!!!

We just stare at each other for a while. I finally move to sit in the booth when one of the baristas comes over with a mop to clean up the spilled coffee.

"So you're Ric, huh?" I glare at him wondering if he knew it was me all along. That must be why he didn't want pictures. God, I am such an idiot! Trying to be romantic my ass! I don't think I could be angrier at this moment!

"Obviously Morgan! Did you know who I was? Is that why you were pressuring me for a picture, so you could do God knows what to my career?"

"What? No! You are the one who knew who I was; don't turn it around on me. You have a sick problem, playing games with me like this. And to think, I almost let you sex-chat me" I huff at him, appalled.

He raises his eyebrow at me. Yeah, the sex-chat would not have been the worst we have done together, but I’m still mad. I try to get out of the booth, my rain gear getting hooked on the table. I yank until I hear a rip. Mr. Payne tries to get up to help me but I push him away.

"Don't you even think about it. Haven’t you already done enough?"

"Morgana, I am just trying to help you with your coat."

I manage to get my jacket free and inspect it, noticing a small tear on the back, near the bottom hem. With much anger and clumsiness I shrug on the raincoat and hat to make my way to the exit. I feel a hand on my arm tugging me back.

"Morgana, let's at least talk about this."

I wrench my arm from his grip and turn to face him. He is gracefully putting on his trench coat along with a black scarf, looking his usual debonair self. This just pisses me off even more; I look like a cartoon, and he looks like he walked out of a Burberry catalog.

"You may be the boss of me Monday through Friday, Ric, but not on Sunday! Not on Sunday," I repeat as I push open the door and into the howling wind. Turning I take a left walking straight into the gale force. Realizing I should have taken a right to get back home I continue walking straight so I won't run into Mr. Payne again. About a minute later when I have finally made it to the corner, despite almost being knocked over a few times by the gusts, I come to a halt as I am almost run over by a black Lincoln town car.

The back passenger door opens and I glance into the car to see Mr. Payne waving me inside. My face is so raw at this point I would get into a shipping crate if one appeared.

I climb inside to the warm tan leather interior and shut the door. Buckling myself into the car as it starts to move away, I glance over at him to find him staring at me.

"What?"

"You really had no idea it was me Morgana?"

"No Ric, I really didn't. How could I have possibly known with the screen name, Hi-Ed-Junior. You said you worked retail, so do a quarter of the people in this city."

He nods and then looks straight ahead. After a minute he speaks again, "You called me an ass and a few other names too."

I turn my attention to the window and watch as we pull into the garage of one of the skyscraper buildings.

"Well, you are an ass, and I mean that in the most professional way possible Ric."

I turn to look at him and he's chuckling.

"Stop calling me Ric. It's Henrik. Come on inside. I can make us some hot chocolate and we can figure out what to do."

Noticing the car has come to a stop I look around to see Henrik's driver running around the car.

"Just take me home. My pants are now soaked and I just want a warm shower. Forgive me if I am not in the mood for talking right now."

The door opens and before Henrik steps out he reaches a hand to me.

"I got those things too."

"You have a ... a pair of women's jeans?"

He smirks and shakes his head. “No, but I can get a pair brought to you once you are done with your shower.”