Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(105)

Fortunately or unfortunately, Laura’s phone was in her purse and she started digging into it.

Joel spoke again, quiet, soft, scared but determined. “We don’t wanna see you now.”

Oh man.

“Well I don’t care, I’m your mother and you mind me,” Olivia shot back.

“We’re havin’ fun,” Joel told her.

“I don’t care about that either,” Olivia returned.

“I know,” Joel whispered, my heart clenched and I’d had enough.

But even so, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do which was, I was ashamed to admit, get in a bitch-slapping fight with her. I didn’t think that would be good although it would feel good.

So instead, I had to try and play it cool, for Joey, for Rex and for Brock.

“Please,” I said softly, “can we talk about this in the back?”

Joel ignored me and told his mother, “You need to go.”

She blinked, her shock apparent, then she asked, “What?”

He didn’t answer his mother. He turned to his brother and ordered, “Go to the back with Kalie and Kellie.”

I noticed then that Rex was watching this with wide eyes and he wasn’t about to move but he wasn’t given a choice. Kalie rushed forward, bent to grab his hand and gently pulled him through the swinging doors, Kellie following them.

Okay, one down, one to go.

“Joel, honey, why don’t you go with them?” I suggested.

Joel turned to me, shook his head then his eyes went back to his tight-lipped mother and he repeated, “You need to go.”

“I’ll say it one more time, Joel, go get your brother, get your coats and come with me.”

“No,” Joel replied instantly.

“Slim?” Laura said and all eyes moved to her. “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but I have to tell you that Olivia is at Tess’s bakery, she’s making a scene and she put her hands on Joey.”

Oh no.

That was the wrong thing to say. Not that it wasn’t true or that there were any right things to say but that was the wrong thing to say.

Laura kept talking. “He rightly refuses to go, they’re in a showdown and all five hundred of Tess’s customers are bystanders. She won’t leave even though Joey has asked her to and she won’t go to the back to discuss the situation even though Tess has asked her to repeatedly. I’m sorry, Slim, but I think you’re gonna have to deal with this.”

To my shock, Olivia haughtily held out her hand to Laura and demanded, “Let me talk to him.”

But Laura snapped shut her phone and informed Olivia, “Too late, he’s angry, he’s hung up and I’m guessing he’s on his way.”

Oh no!

Time for emergency maneuvering. I didn’t need Brock to show being pissed off and filling my magical, happy bakery with his pissed off vibes or him entering the showdown with Olivia considering he didn’t shy away from the f-word either, or the c-word, m-word, b-word, a-word and a variety of other words. Things were crazy busy but I didn’t need my customers avoiding Tessa’s Cakes for fear of witnessing a tense, combative, foul-mouthed domestic scene. Or, as the case was, a worse one.

“I think,” I said quietly, “it might be a good idea if you aren’t here when Brock shows.”

“And I think it might be a good idea for you not to tell me what to do,” Olivia retorted.

I studied her, my heart beating hard.

Then I realized she was going to have her scene no matter what, she wanted it and she was going to have it especially considering now that scene earned her Brock’s attention which was what she wanted most of all.

So I shrugged.

My customers were just going to have to deal and I’d barricade myself, the boys, Ellie and her little mermaids and my staff in my office if it was going to be a blowout.

Then I said, “Suit yourself.”

Then I turned to Joel and ordered gently, “Sort out Ellie and her friends, yeah? Then go in the back with your brother and wait for your Dad. You cool with that?”

He looked up at me, nodded, his eyes moved through his mother then he dashed into the back to get the orders from Rex.

I looked to Laura, ignoring Olivia who had dropped her bags at her feet, crossed her arms on her chest, hitched her hip with a foot out and had a face like thunder.

I was right. She was in for the long haul.

Whatever. Her funeral.

So I told Laura, “I’ll get you a coffee. How do you take it and do you want a cake?”

Laura fell into the ignoring Olivia tactic, placed her order then went to her daughter and her girlfriends.

I made her coffee and got her a humongous chocolate cookie with peanut butter chips. Joel took care of the girls and disappeared in the back. Through all this, Olivia stood in her bitch stance, glowering at us.

I was delivering Laura’s stuff at her table when two uniformed officers walked in.

Olivia tensed. Laura grinned. I stared.

“We’ve had a report of a disturbance?” one of the officers asked the room at large then his eyes honed in on Olivia. “A blonde woman. Late forties?”

“Late forties, hysterical,” Laura mumbled gleefully.

“Her,” a random customer pointed at Olivia before I could say a word. “She came in being loud and nasty, used foul language and wouldn’t leave when she was asked, like seven thousand times.”