For His Taste (3 page)

“Local Bakery Owner Robbed at Gunpoint,”
Robert read.

“That’s it,” Mr. Galloway said. 
“Now, quietly read the rest.”

Robert did.

Woman held at gunpoint, forced to
empty the register.  She had been staying late to bake cupcakes for a banking
function.  She had been duped into opening the front door, which had been
locked.

“Ah, wow,” Robert whispered.  “She
opened the door…”

“Exactly,” Mr. Galloway said.  “Not
to sound like an asshole here, Bobby, but if she’s that gullible to open the
front door to a man with a gun… you can get her to get the hell out of the
place.”

“Me?” Robert asked.

“You.  You’re heading there
tomorrow.  Talk to her.  Get her out of there.”

“I don’t want to travel, not with
the weekend coming…”

“You’re going,” Mr. Galloway said. 
“We need to do this woman the favor.”

“The favor?”

“Yes.  The neighborhood isn’t the
best, obviously.  And you know how I feel about criminals…”

Mr. Galloway gritted his teeth and
looked away.

Robert knew all about Mr.
Galloway’s past.  His mother and father had been held at gunpoint when he was
just ten years old.  His father had tried to talk the man down, asking him to
not point the gun at his wife or his son.  Mr. Galloway vividly remembered the
man agreeing, keeping the gun on his father.  He took his mother’s purse, his
father’s wallet, and even forced Mr. Galloway himself to empty his pockets. 
Then he nodded and shot Mr. Galloway’s father, killing him.

They never found the man.

It was part of the attraction Mr.
Galloway had to rundown neighborhoods and buildings.  He wanted things to be alive
and vibrant. 

“I’ll go,” Robert finally said.

“I already know that.  And make it
quick.  And don’t fall in love.”  Mr. Galloway smiled.  “I doubt you will fall
in love though, she’s not
our
type.”

Our
type made Robert look
away.  Mr. Galloway thought himself to be a lothario, able to get any woman he
wanted.  He was superficial because he could afford to be superficial.  His
kind of woman stood two inches taller than him, with large breasts, a kind
smile, and the inability to speak or think, and was able to take command from a
man forty years her age.

Robert went along with it, letting
Mr. Galloway believe he was as shallow as him, but in reality, Robert wasn’t
anything like that.  In fact, hearing Mr. Galloway’s comment made him pick the
newspaper back up.  He noticed there was a picture at the end of the article. 

A woman standing in front of the
bakery, on opening day.

The woman looked a little short,
and thick.  She had her arms folded with a pretty smile, a confident smile, and
blue eyes that made Robert smile.  Her curves were obvious, but Robert couldn’t
help himself as he drew lines along her body with his eyes.

He wished the picture was bigger.

He wished the picture was clearer.

He wished…

“You know what?” he asked, staring
at the picture.  “It’s only noon.  Why don’t I leave now?”  His eyes moved up
to Mr. Galloway.  “I’ll get there around four then.  I’ll stop in, say hello,
and get a feel for the town, and place.”

“Good man,” Mr. Galloway said
tapping the desk.  “Make me proud.”

Robert gazed back down to the
woman.  The article said her name was Bethany Colette.  And Robert’s eyes,
enjoying her bigger size, said she was beautiful.

2-

Beth loved
her customers,
all of them, but if one more person gripped her hand and wished her well, she
was going to scream. 

The latest person to do it was
Jerry Berker, owner of Berks Insurance.

“I could get you an entire system
in this place,” he said looking around.  His left hand gripped Beth’s right
hand tight.  His gold jewelry glistened and the smell of his musky cologne made
her nose itch.  She preferred the smell of chocolate or cinnamon.  “We could
get two cameras and have it monitored here, at home, wherever you want.”

Jerry, apparently, was also in the
security business now.

“I’m in the security business now,”
he said looking back at Beth with a smile.  “Heard about… you know…”

Beth nodded.  Her eyes
instinctively moved to look at the cookie case, which was back on the counter,
full again.  She had debated on whether to throw it out after the robbery, but
she couldn’t imagine losing anything else to some low life criminal.  She kept
the case, kept it on the counter, but changed the cookies in it.  Instead of
chocolate chip, she baked oatmeal raisin. 

“I’m fine, now,” Beth said.  “Thank
you Jerry.  Thank you.”

Jerry squeezed her hand and then
patted his hand with his other hand.  Beth felt deflated, like a dying person
being visited by all their last visitors before checking out of the world. 

When she got to work this morning,
there was a line.

An actual line.

The last time there was a line at
her bakery was the opening day and that was only because she gave away cupcakes
all day for free. 

Everyone looked at her with
sympathetic eyes.  Everyone touched her.  Everyone consoled her. 

Her sister, Angie, told her to just
close the bakery down for the week and take a trip to her house, three hours
north.  Beth found no use in that.  Angie would just ridicule her, lecture her
on how bad the neighborhood was, and at some point, work in the fact that Beth
should lose a few pounds. 

Nothing wrong with being
healthy…
that’s what Angie always said.

“Here, take my card,” Jerry said
reaching into his jacket.  “Think about it.  Call me.  You’re a good woman
Beth, good for being here.  I’ll take care of you.”

“Again, Jerry, thank you,” Beth
said.

Jerry paid for half a dozen
cupcakes and left. 

At this rate, Beth would be out of
food before three and have her register replenished four times over.  The only
thing was that she didn’t want the pity from everyone.  She enjoyed the
business, and who wouldn’t, but the pity…

“Morning Beth,” the next customer
said. 

It was Margie Anders. 

Margie usually came in to order breads,
nothing else.  She’d call around the holidays and special request some things, which
Beth had no problem accommodating for. 

Today there was no purpose for
Margie Anders to be in the bakery.

None what so ever.

“I have some fresh banana bread,”
Beth said.  “One with a lot of cinnamon and one with chocolate chips.”

Beth had a lot of chocolate chips
left over because she had planned on cooking chocolate chip cookies all week.  Well,
that plan changed, just like the plan to not get robbed changed.

“Oh dear,” Margie said, “I want a
cupcake… make it five…”

“Cupcakes?” Beth asked.

Her eyes moved to the line.  It
finally started to lessen.  All these people had come to see her and show
support.  It did touch Beth, but she just wanted to work.  She just wanted to
be normal.  She wanted a normal day of business, a normal day of being herself. 
Then again, being herself…
fat, pig
…

Beth closed her eyes and took a
second.

“Are you okay?” Margie asked, her
old voice shaking.

“I’m fine,” Beth said.  “Really,
I’m fine.  Five cupcakes it is.”

Beth put a smile on her face and
for the rest of the busy morning, she served person after person, hearing their
stories, accepting their hand squeezes and sympathies.  And yes, she took their
money too. 

The afternoon came and out went the
crowd. 

Finally.

Beth scrambled and managed to
finish the job she had started the night before, finishing all the cupcakes for
the bank.  When she called Jerry to tell him she finished his order, he
couldn’t believe it.  He even offered her a job at the bank, jokingly, but when
he offered it, Beth couldn’t help but note that banks were well secured.  Lots
of cameras.  Lots of security.

Fat, pig.

Of course Beth declined the offer
and when Jerry came to pay a little before three, he handed Beth the company
credit card and then slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter to her.

“No, you paid,” Beth said.

“Yeah, I know,” Jerry said.  “This
is for finishing the order.  After what happened…”

Jerry sighed and shook his head. 
He wore big square frames and had a fat face that jiggled when he shook his
head.  He was in his early fifties but looked sixty.  He reached out and
touched Beth’s chin with his pointer finger. 

“Such a pretty woman,” he said. 
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Thank you,” Beth said.  “I’m
fine…” (she hated hearing herself say it…
I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine
…)

“You’re a beautiful woman,” Jerry
said.  “Remember that.”

“No, I’m far from it,” Beth said
handing Jerry his receipt.  “That’s okay though too.”

“No, mark my words,” Jerry pressed
one of his fat fingers to the glass counter, “someone will see you for your
true beauty.  For your passion.  For your dedication.  Damn, if I was younger,
Beth…”  Jerry tapped his finger on the glass and smiled.

After saying yet another goodbye, Beth
had the urge to lock the door.  No shame in closing up early.  Anyone who would
come to the bakery would understand why she’d be closed.  As she thought about
it, the door opened again, and when Beth looked, she saw a man in a black
hoodie, holding a gun…

3-

She blinked
three times
before the man transformed before her eyes.

He wasn’t in a black hoodie, and he
wasn’t holding a gun.

The man wore a black suit, black
tie, and held a folder.

The complete opposite of a man who
was going to rob her. 

Or so she thought.

Robert Ians walked with confidence
to the counter of the bakery, inhaling the great smell of the place.  His eyes
were locked onto the woman behind the counter and he quickly recognized her
from the picture in the paper.

Bethany Colette.

Beth tried to keep her composure
behind the counter.  While she learned her lesson about not trying to judge
people, she didn’t want to judge the man in the suit.  Although something about
his attitude didn’t come across well, the way he looked at her… it made her
feel safe.

She side stepped to the cookie case
and opened it, trying to pretend she had a purpose for going to the cookie
case.  She waited for the man to speak to her.  She couldn’t handle anymore
forced small talk about anything.

“Excuse me,” the man said, “are
those oatmeal raisin?”

“Uh, yeah, they are,” Beth said. 
“I normally have chocolate chip, but I…”  Beth stared at the man and suddenly
felt attracted to his eyes.  They were a deep brown, hovering on black but when
the light hit them, they shined beautifully.  He didn’t look like the kind of
man that should be in a suit, but the suit certainly fit him well.  He filled
it out with no problem.  She thought about what her mind wanted her to say, in
a growling voice,
I didn’t make chocolate chip cookies because the last time
I did, I was robbed at gunpoint and called a fat pig…
  Instead, Beth went
subtle.

“I made these instead.”

“Can I have a few?” the man asked.

“You have to pay for them,” Beth
snapped back.  She let out a small gasp and put her hand to her mouth.  “Oh my,
I’m so sorry for saying it like that.”

“I wouldn’t think anything else
than to pay.”  Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out some money and
placed it on the counter.  “Rest is yours.  My name’s Robert, by the way.”

“Can I call you Bobby?” Beth asked.

“You can call me anything you
want,” Bobby replied.  He actually hated when Mr. Galloway called him Bobby but
when Beth said it, it sounded pretty good. 

He tried to control his eyes, but
how could he?

“I’m Bethany,” Beth said, forcing
Bobby’s eyes to hers.  “Yes, you can call me Beth, I prefer it.”

“Beth,” Bobby whispered.

Beth’s curves were sultry and
perfect.  How can any man not see that and appreciate it?  Having the kind of
curves she did didn’t mean anything negative, not even close.  Those curves
just proved how womanly she was.  How thick her breasts were.  How wide her
hips were.  Bobby couldn’t contain his wild thoughts as he imagined holding
onto Beth’s hips, his fingers digging into her skin, holding her tight, pulling
her closer…

“I didn’t mean to sound mean,” Beth
said.

“No, I didn’t take it that way at
all.  I didn’t mean to imply that you’d give me anything for free.”

Bobby smiled and quickly realized
how terrible he must have sounded.  A cheap attempt at flirting.  He had been
used to the predictable women that Mr. Galloway paraded around.  The ones who
would just nod and smile and take their place.

Beth had an aura of confidence and
fear around her that caught Bobby by surprise.  It seemed like an odd combination
but then again, Beth had survived a gun point robbery.  Thinking of the robbery
reminded Bobby of why he was there. 

To convince Beth to move out.

To secure the buildings.

To rebuild them into something that
made a lot of money for Mr. Galloway and in return, himself.

But when he turned to his left and
watched Beth take the oatmeal raisin cookies from the cookie case, placing the
into plastic wrap, he felt his heart and body racing.  How long had it been
since he’d been with a real woman?  Certainly years he couldn’t deny.  That
meant years of holding back, saving himself in so many ways, his life lacking
that real passion that he desired.  And here it stood, a counter space away,
wrapping oatmeal raisin cookies. 

Suddenly, Bobby made the real
connection in the bakery.