Baked warm

Prologue

"Would you just shut up for one second?" I curse at the dumb fuck in-front of me.

Yep. That's me, your probably wondering why I'm yelling at a women. And no the answer isn't that I'm sexist or radiating sde. No it just so happens I work next to the numbest bitch in Palm Springs. Lucky me.

Odette Valentine. Although her name exudes love, she in fact wheezes with hate. Irony oh how I enjoy it. This walking cumstain not only works at the markets but just to my luck is the truck next to mine. How lovely. As you can tell we don't get along, in fact I hate her. The dumb bitch has been trespassing my life for 4 months, if I had to compliment her I would congratulate her for somehow just making her presence alone make me want to kill myself.

She is the bane of my existence.

Your probably wondering 'wow this guy must be fun at party's' and you'd be correct. I am. However I don't waste my time socialising when I have a career to uphold, and a reputation to continue. Baked Pleasings is my life. I know it may sound sad but reality is it's not. Just because I willingly choose success over going to lame as fuck frat house party's where you devour your sorrows with $3 bagged wine, doesn't mean I don't like my life.

I live with a roof over my head, I own a successful business, I have a degree, and I'm std free! All at 23. And I can also rhyme apparently. 

Yet, even with my success and great looks, this cunt continues to walk through the market as if I'm scum. Yeah right.

This blonde bimbo wastes away with bleached blonde hair, blue eyes and tanned skin. Basically only making her profits purely from depressed lonely men whose idea of beauty is societal normalcy. She's nothing special, nothing unique and in fact nothing but a waste of air.

In fact get this, her stores name is literally bimbo bakes. Yes. That's right ladies and gentlemen this women right here thought one day four months ago 'hm how could I set back generations of woman's rights and respect through one store?'. It's almost inspiring really. She is the epitome of why I hate society in general.

Her 90s smooth locks, long legs, and figure is all that she's used to get where she is whilst also milking her daddy's wallet in the process. Yep the Valentines are her family. No surprise she comes from the riches family in this place. This is the reason I hate her most.

I had to work for this place, leave my family, earn my own name in this professional society. Yet here little miss dumbass comes in with pockets of money and this months cosmopolitan acting like she owns the place. No university degree, has never worked a day in her life, never had to fear her house might not have electricity when she got home, nothing. She doesn't know the hardships of business owning, the sweat poured into worrying it will fail and you'll be forced to bankruptcy. Nothing in that pretty little head at all.

Yet considering all this, she has the whole market wrapped around her finger. Mr Morrison owns this place yet acts as if she owns him, stupid right? Fucking idiot can tell me 'harry the staff have complaint of a dishing violation, once again I expect you to step up or get out of lane way park'  but when little miss perfect walks in it's flowers and rainbows.

I know this seems like I'm giving major victim complex  here but I must admit our feud began from her so I feel like it's okay for me to complain. I remember it only because it was as if mercury was in retrograde from the feeling of unease I felt that horrid day 4 months ago.

"Mr styles I'd like you to meet your new lane way neighbour Ms Valentine." I look up from the counter to find a tall blonde women staring me down whilst next to Mr Morrison.

She doesn't really look like she'd work here, wearing a  matching leather jacket and boots, combined with a white turtle neck and plaid skirt. She's dressed for vogue yet is standing in a food truck. Um ok.

"Nice to meet you, you can just call me Harry." I greet with a smile, may as-well be kind I mean she's not bad on the eyes and she's going to be my neighbour I suppose.

I reach my hand out to shake with her but she just responds with a blank stare. Oh-Kay. She shifts her eyes down towards my hand gesture and offers a fake smile in return whilst making no effort to show any signs of shaking my hand.

"You own a bakery as-well?" Is all she says.

I awkwardly bring my hand back to resting by my side whilst also lightly blushing in embarrassment. "Um yeah I've been here for a year now and I-"

I'm interrupted by her huff of annoyance, rolling her eyes then walking off mid conversation. I watch as Mr Morrison follows her like a lost puppy, I then here "Daniel I'd like to withdraw my application please, I understand we follow a contractual agreement and you have already breached it within 5 minutes of me signing. I hate to appear a brat in a professional setting but you've clearly set me up for embarrassment. Placing me and this guy together is just making a mockery of both our stores. Two bakery's next to each other, out of every store. Now I suggest you move me immediately or I have my father speak to you in a court instead. How's that sound darling?"

So as you can tell she didn't get moved. And the daddy wall bucks clearly didn't give a fuck if she was being set up for failure. I must admit i found it funny until the first day of work commenced and I realised men are in fact dirty pigs who crave nothing but lust rather then a good croissant. Who would have guessed.

So yes. Odette Valentine is the bane of my existence and I will do anything to get her the fuck up and out of my life.