Delilah and I meet with the bakery managers in the afternoon and make sure they understand all of their responsibilities, give them back up contact information, and reassure them we trust them completely. It's the first time we are both going to be gone at the same time, so we do our best to hide our nerves and give them as much encouragement as possible. We help prep dry ingredients for a couple hours so there will be less work for them to do without us there.

 

Marco holds the back door open for us when we are ready to leave. Bronx's midnight blue Aston Martin Superleggera is idling in the alley. Bronx tinted the windows dark enough that I can’t see him inside, but I can’t imagine him letting anyone else drive it. I1look down the alley and don’t see any of the sedan’s the guards usually drive, except the one Marco drove us to the bakery in. Bronx's car only has two seats. He had to have it specially made because he is so tall. There's definitely no room for guards.

 

“He said it's a surprise and no guards tonight,” Marco shrugs, feigning innocence.

 

“You knew? Delilah? Are you in on this too?” I put my hands on my hips.

 

“Je ne sais pas de quoi vous parlez [I don’t know what you are talking about |," she shrugs as well, but doesn’t feign innocence nearly as well as Marco. Probably because of the light blue color in her eyes.

 

I look down and realize I’m wearing leggings, a black zip-up hoodie with flour streaks where the apron didn’t completely cover me, and a purple t- shirt with the bakery logo on it. I feel my face flush, knowing I'm about to get in a car that costs more than most people’s homes, looking like this. Delilah licks her thumb and wipes some sugar off the side of my face, and helps me fix my ponytail.

 

“You two are traitors,” I growl a little at them when Bronx steps out of the car looking drop dead gorgeous in a dark gray suit with a white shirt. He walks over to the back door of the bakery and takes my hand, giving it a little kiss. The little sparks from his lips touching my hand make my face feel hot. I breathe out a deep breath, feeling self- conscious with Bronx giving me this type of attention in front of Marco and Delilah.

 

“Don't worry, boss, I'll have her home by midnight,” he winks at Marco before leading me to the passenger side of his car and opening the door for me.

 

He gets in the driver side and leans over, putting my seatbelt on for me, “ Bronx, where are we going? I'm dressed for work, not to go anywhere I need to be dressed up.” °

 

He takes my hand and kisses it again and gives me a sexy smile, “Don’t worry, Baby. You don’t need to be dressed up. I just have a little surprise for you, not to mention, I wanted to spend some time with you.”

 

decide. If I try to hide my face, stories will come out that there is some reason for me to hide. If I accept my fate and let them take my picture with no mind, they might say that I'm not feeling well, but they may just say I’m too comfortable around my husband and I need to

 

this the first time you've been in the human world without an eyepatch on?” I ask through my teeth, giving a big grin for the cameras as the car crawls forward. Bronx goes as slowly as possible, trying to avoid hitting anyone who's

 

need to come up with some sort of alibi,” he looks at me with a

 

surgery?” I

 

He sticks his

 

they are going to post stories about you stealing one of Lenora’s eyeballs or something as equally ridiculous,” I nod in agreement. “Agreed. You wanna talk to them real quick? It's the only way they're going to let

 

him and roll down the window

 

let us through, please?” I ask in a pleading voice, giving them my

 

love birds headed?” “Where are your guards?” “Is it date

 

night,” I look at Bronx with a smile.

 

where's your eye patch?” One photographer finally asks. Bronx points below his fresh eye, “ Prosthetic eye. Looks real, doesn’t it?” “Yes, sir. It sure does.” “Who is your doctor?” “What company made

 

are going to the Santoro Enterprises charity event,” I ignore their questions and give a little wave before closing the window. Satisfied with the prospect of getting pictures of us at

 

so good at that,” he says, kissing my hand

 

enough to be told where the heck we

 

Mrs. Mason,”he winks at me as he gets on the highway and slams

 

I

 

become vulnerable children who need protection themselves. I consider my role among these women and how my actions have affected their lives in the past and will continue in the future. I now understand the reasons for my past actions, but were they my decisions to make? The implications have

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