Crumbling Cakes

Part XXXIV (34) *POV Bonus*

My legs carried me while my hearing gave in to selective deafness. Leaving my mind open to the events of the last ten minutes.

Can't say she doesn't keep her word. I winced as I delicately dabbed at my arm with my equally spoiled apron; speed walking blindly through the swinging door. Sebastian's angry tones followed me out of the eatery.

Trash. That's what she called me. She'd measured me up in less time than it took most people to take a sip of water. Clearly seeing me as something to destroy. And in the process of Ronaldo pulling me back into the dance we've been doing for months, I paid the consequences.

He told me not to be ashamed of myself but here I was. Rolling in words spewed out in hatred. Allowing one little line to make me feel like that panicked thirteen-year-old girl whose mother wanted to pimp her out. As if my entire worth was summed up by my monetary value. Further cementing my belief that Guin and Bathilda had far too much in common in personality.

"Shit, who is he yelling at?" I jumped at Heather's voice. She was peeking through the crack of the door. When Sebastian's angry reprimand came floating through, Heather's eyebrows raised to high heaven. Immediately her eyes locked onto mine.

I liked Heather. She was a little older than me; about Sebastian's age. For some reason, from the very beginning, she had taken a liking to me. Heather was always the first person to comfort me when I messed up in the dark ages.

With a reassuring hand to my back and a quick comment about our Ronnie, she managed to make me feel better, made me smile. I was certain I saw her trying to hide her laugh during the stray dog incident. She's definitely kept a chuckle or two back for many of my other shenanigans.

She was the one who showed me the ropes when I was too proud to ask Sebastian. If my situation hadn't been what it was, I would like to think we would have become friends outside of this place.

Heather glanced at my dirtied front then back out the door before finally shutting it and walking toward me. She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction of the bathroom drifting around the remaining others. I gave a sad little wave to Ollie as we passed, who looked at me with alarming concern. Once inside, she wet and wrung the hand towel before handing it to me.

I took it gratefully and began dabbing at the mess.

"What's going on between you two?" She asked kindly, leaning her hip against the sink.

"Nothing. Just boss/employee stuff." I wouldn't meet her eye and focused on gingerly dabbing. And now I could add Heather to the list. Feck. Heather snorted.

"M'dear, something is going on. I haven't seen him blow a gasket like that in a good while. Our beloved ass never reams out one of those customers. Especially one that's close to his family." My eyes jumped up to hers. "Us? Occasionally, if we're especially naughty, but them, not once. You know how he is, all tight lip and stoney. So?"

I bit my lip and shook my head. She sighed.

"Dalia, we're not blind." She waited a beat. I was starting to hate that phrase. "Look I'm not judging. He's more chipper and biting our heads of less, if at all. A lot like the old Sebastian when we started this place. The other day I actually heard him laugh at work, I nearly shit my pants. I've known him a long time and it's always been hard to get a compliment or a smile out of him when it came to this place. Shy Guy's is his baby and he's protected it with two iron fists. We've all helped him protect it."

She paused. "He's harder on himself than he is on us. We never faulted him for the firm grip. He's changed." I swallowed. "Sorry dear, that out there is a dead giveaway that something is plumping his basket."