It couldn’t happen. She could never let that happen. This was a job. That was it. Trey was an asshole. He had been and always would be.
“Ambi, come on, I was just-”
“You were just nothing!” She was aware that Marcella was watching the whole heated exchange, probably with no small amount of interest, but she couldn’t get away with letting Trey freaking kiss her. She took a menacing step forward. “I told you not to use my name,” she hissed as she drew back her other hand.
It was a shitty use of cake, but fuck it, she’d already tasted it. She was going to order it no matter what Trey thought about it. What she didn’t eat would just go in the garbage anyway and she’d been taught never to waste food.
Trey might be a good six inches taller than her, but she had the power of rage behind her arm. She launched the big piece of delicious, frosted, amazing, gourmet cake right into the center of his face. And smooshed. She rubbed and twisted until she could feel his nose and lips grinding against the plate. When she pulled back, plate in hand, the cake didn’t come with it. It remained mashed all over his smug, asshole face.
“Well, that’s a vast improvement, I must say.” She grinned as Trey blubbered and scrubbed at his face with one big, strong hand, trying to clear his eyes. “I thought I’d give you that taste. Marcella doesn’t have a public bathroom, so you can do double duty and lick it off yourself.”
Marcella tsked and cooed behind her. She swept in and brushed Ambi aside, taking Trey’s arm. It looked hilarious, little old Marcella, who was probably all of five feet tall, leading Trey, who looked like a giant next to her, out of the room.
“You can use our staff bathroom in this case,” she cooed, all worried, loving grandmother.
Ambi rolled her eyes. She would rather have rubbed dog poo in Trey’s face. The thrill of getting back at him was already wearing off and she was left with the tingling in some really unwanted parts. Okay, her parts weren’t unwanted. The tingling, however, was.
“We’ll take that one, Marcella,” she called out of the room, down the hall. “Thanks, I’ll stop by later on to pay for it and give you all the details.”
“Okay, dear, take care,” Marcella called back and Ambi had to smile.
She slipped out while Trey was occupied. There was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered she was. Her face was probably red. He knew her well enough that even if it wasn’t, he’d see right past the mask to the desire that kiss awoke. Okay, truthfully, the desire was always there. It was hard not to see Trey and want him. He was beautiful, but it was the kind of beauty that was wrecked by getting to know him. By the festering horribleness of who he really was that lay beneath that gorgeous exterior.
Ambi let herself out, the bells above the door jingling merrily.
She pretty much ran back to her car, even though the sidewalk was icy, and she nearly landed on her head. When she shut herself inside, it was a full minute before she could stop her rapid-fire breaths from steaming up the windshield and another before she could actually find her keys and get them in the ignition. This time Trey didn’t pop out to stop her.
She made her escape. It might be a brief reprieve, but it was an escape all the same. She knew she’d have to give Marcella an explanation. That the old woman would probably hoot and holler and laugh her butt off about the whole thing. Worse, she knew she had to face Trey again, and soon. She wanted to pick out the venue, but he’d insisted on seeing it first. She had an appointment set up for Wednesday morning, less than two days away.
Which gave her about forty-six hours to arm herself, put her walls back together, and bring it.
If Trey wanted war, she’d give him war.
There really wasn’t any other option.
CHAPTER 6
Amberina
Of course, when Ambi dropped the cheque off for Marcella, the older woman was there at the counter waiting. She actually leaned in when Ambi set the cheque down as if she just couldn’t wait for the juicy details.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Marcella winked. “You should tell this old woman all your juicy secrets. All I have left in my life is this bakery and gossip. Only one of them keeps me young and it sure isn’t running my butt off baking cakes for a bunch of ungrateful brides, picky eaters, and toddlers having meltdowns when they should be having birthdays.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Ambi pressed her lips together. “Yeah. No. He’s not.”