Flame within the Grey

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"What flavor should we do this month?" Zara asked. Scarlett's assistant only worked at her bakery for three months and was a quick study. Her messy purple apron, always smudged with colorful icing, was proof enough. Scarlett was happy with her work.

"Let's do lemon and raspberry cupcakes." Scarlett beamed. "It's always a hit for Springtime."

Zara took out the bowls and got baking. Scarlett attended to a customer, squeezing a dozen cream cheese filled cannoli into a white paper box. The bakery was slow this afternoon and two or three customers occupied the small space. The front door swung open with a ring, signaling another customer. Her eyes darted to the entrance and her breath caught in her throat at the man entering. She almost dropped the last cannoli she packed in.

Roman!

Her heart lurched in its chest. The man had a negative effect on her.

He, of all people, had just entered her small business, bringing with him the dark cloud that matched the sky outside. The other customers frowned, some that didn't know him, glanced at his rough exterior twice. He was all in black, from his slick hair, black shirt and zipped up leather jacket, to his trousers and shoes. The man only wore trousers. Scarlett has never seen him in jeans or a tracksuit.

Two customers exited the bakery in a hurry. That's all that Scarlett needed for her business. People scurrying away. What did the man want? What was he doing here? He only came once to her bakery when it opened two years ago. The elderly lady grabbed and paid for her box of cannoli and quickly left in a rush suddenly. Scarlett sighed. She stood frozen for a while, her eyes not leaving the unwanted guest.

His grey eyes fixed onto hers for a moment, unsettling Scarlett as a flicker ignited in them again. He perused the bakery, looking from the assorted bread shelves to the dessert trays. Scarlett watched him anxiously. Roman, visiting your place of work only meant trouble!

Roman steadily sat on the small iron chair. The bakery was warm, as he expected, just like Scarlett. It was small and comfortable. The smell of freshly baked pastry wafted into his nostrils. He breathed it in with wanting. It was a long fucking day, and his night wasn't over yet. He still had business to do later. But for now, he just wanted to savor this moment. This moment of peace.

He played with a wooden toothpick in his mouth and bit on it out of habit. His smoky grey eyes locked onto Scarlett. The familiar secret heat growing inside him at the sight of her. Her hair was loose. A grip held it at the back, so that none would fall in her rosy face. Long, dark hair flowed at her shoulders. Her pink floral dress moved slowly beneath her knees. He wished the dress was red. He liked her in red.

Roman studied her. He enjoyed doing it. He liked it ever since they met at the pub a few years ago. She was everything he was not. Kind. Gentle. Caring towards others, and always stood out from the rest of the women that surrounded him. She hardly wore makeup. She was a hard worker and a good mother. A good wife, despite Tommy's one unfaithfulness she only knew about. He envied his best friend. He got to marry her. Fuck her every night. Build a life with her and she bore him a son. He was jealous of Tommy. He got to live a life Roman couldn't really have.

She was a loyal woman. Roman liked loyalty. He could respect that.

Scarlett walked up to the table. Her hands fidgeting on her sides against her white apron. She seemed nervous to see Roman. He was used to people looking at him like that. But she looked uncomfortable at his presence. It bothered him she felt that way, making him wince inside. But his scowl grew more.

"Roman. I didn't expect to see you here." she said.

"I came to see how your little bakery is doing." Roman said, in his lowest tone, but it still came off cold and unfeeling.

"You want a cup of coffee?" she offered.

He nodded his head. "You know how I take it?"

She nodded. "Black. No sugar."

Correct! Roman's lips silently twitched. She knew how he liked it, having her brewed it a few times for him at Tommy's house. She walked to the coffee machine, glancing twice back at him.

Scarlett arrived quickly; her slender fingers placed the mug of coffee gently on the small wooden round table. The smell of chocolate lingered softly to Roman from her body. She was close to him. Roman liked her close. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked slightly forward in surprise. Her stunned brown eyes looked at his, and then at his tattooed powerful hands gripped tightly around her fragile wrist. So fragile he could easily snap it.

"Sit down with me." Roman's words were more of an order, making Scarlett reluctantly sit opposite him.

He knew she feared him. Maybe it was a good thing. People fearing and respecting him. But somehow, he didn't want her to fear him. He didn't want her to see him like the rest of the world did.

"Here's a package for Tommy." Roman said. He reached for the brown envelope from inside his jacket pocket and slid it across to her.

She caught it and frowned. "What's this?" she questioned. "And why is it for my husband?"

"Questions, questions, questions." Roman grumbled as he sipped his coffee. "Let your husband answer it, if he chooses to."

Scarlett breathed in deep, unhappy with Roman's answer.

Roman studied her again. She looked at the entrance and then back at him. His stare made her shift uneasily in her seat. Heat slowly burned inside him.

"Do you need anything else, Roman?" she asked awkwardly.

Roman shook his head. "Are you afraid of me, Scarlett? My presence seems to make you uncomfortable."

She swallowed hard. "Isn't everyone here in this community afraid of you? Why should I be any less cautious of you?"

The corner of his lips twitched. He liked her spirit. "You not everyone." He looked at Scarlett, his steely eyes regarding her. She didn't respond to his comment. "You my best friend's wife. We practically family."

She inhaled deeply, not wanting this small talk.

"We not family," she said and stood up. "If you want to know why I don't like you, it's because you're a cruel and bad man." She folded her arms and spoke up nervously. "Everybody knows what you did to poor Mr. Freddy, you beat him up to the inch of his life. All for nothing. He was in the ICU for three weeks. His wife was crying on my shoulder. Everyone knows what you do for a living Roman. You hurt people."

Roman's grey eyes turned a shade deep. He didn't just hurt people; he did much worse. The look of disgust and fear in her eyes for him made Roman grimace. He longed to see something else... something more delicate. She didn't know that Freddy owed the mob. Ten thousand dollars that he failed to repay timely. He had to teach him a lesson. But how could she know that?

"You have no right to judge me, Mrs. Hill. Don't talk about something, you know nothing about." he said in a dangerous tone. He couldn't help it. That's the way he spoke. "Yet you allow yourself to be rude to me." He stood up and inched closer to Scarlett. She backed away. The shop assistant looked on in concern. The bakery was empty, all the customers seemed to have vanished. Scarlett noticed this.

"You chased my customers away." she sniped. But stopped when she saw the narrowed look Roman gave her.

"How much for the coffee." Roman asked.

Scarlett sighed and shook her head. "It's on the house."

"I might not be a saint." Roman said. "My methods might not be legal, but they are fair."

Scarlett scoffed. "Just don't drag Tommy into your mess." she said, with folded arms.

"That's his choice to make. He picked a side." he said, knowing full knowledge Tommy was already in it. "See you again this weekend." Roman sauntered to the front door, opening it halfway. "I'll be sure to get my godson the perfect birthday gift."

Her eyes popped open, as she let out a stiff, brief smile and a curt nod.

The corner of his lips twitched up into a smile as he left her seething.