The Turnover [EDITING]

Chapter 2

His color continued to rise. "You don't know anything, Monica. You have no idea how it feels to run this business. You have never gone to business school so you could manage the bakery."

"So you always say."

"No, you don't know me at all." Another gulp of champagne made its way down his throat. "You don't know how it feels to drop everything and take care of this family. Do you have any idea how many times I've worried that Mom's arthritis is going to flare up and she'll end up dropping  something while she's baking? Or that one day, Pappy would die in his sleep the way Lola did?"

"You worry too much, Paul."

"To you, that's too much. To me... did Eloisa tell you about what happened in Singapore?"

I gulped. That was the most personal story that Eloisa had told me about her life, and it already said a lot about the relationship between those two. "She was going through a breakup, Paul. She was using her work to take her mind off the whole thing."

"She was suicidal over that breakup. That's a fact." 

Now I was beginning to hate Paul, even more than I already did. "You're an arrogant bastard." 

"What?" His jaw dropped open. 

"Look, I may be your sister's assistant, but I am going to tell you this right now. You, Mr. Paul Carreon, are the most arrogant piece of shit that I have ever met in my life." 

"Don't talk to me that way, Monica." 

"But I am talking to you, Paul. And I am telling you exactly what I think, right now, because I will not let you speak ill of your own sister - who, by the way, is my direct supervisor - and that I will not listen to you rant and rave about how you're doing all of this for your family, blah blah blah..."

"Monica!" 

His pained tone of voice startled me. "Why, did I hurt your feelings?" 

He shook his head. 

"I'm just saying, Paul." 

"You didn't have to." 

Then, in a fluid motion, he drew me closer to him - and before we knew it, we, too, were kissing. 

The kiss lasted a little longer than expected. 

In fairness, Paul's lips were soft, and his breath tasted like champagne mixed with vanilla cake. But he kissed me as if he was struggling with me for air, and there were a few times when it felt like he was going to bite me in the most inappropriate way. Not to mention that he was a supervisor...

Shit. Eloisa still needed a month to get the paperwork together for the new branch. That meant Paul was still my direct supervisor at the bakery. 

I broke the kiss right away. "This isn't right." 

He stared at me, dazed by my sudden reaction. "I'm sorry, Monica." 

"Same here." I was still holding the champagne glass in one hand and my camera phone in another. "We shouldn't have done this, Paul." 

"Can't say I disagree with you on that, Monica." He took in a few deep breaths. "You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" 

"Too late," I spat out. "We are in the middle of a wedding, for chrissakes." 

"If anyone asks, just say we were carried away." 

At least he was willing to acknowledge that it took two to tango. "Eloisa is going to kill me if she finds out." 

"Not before she kills me." He began to turn away. "You won't say anything, would you?" 

I did not know what to say. I could count this as sexual harassment on his part, but I couldn't say that I didn't provoke him either. "It was an emotional moment for you."

"Not as emotional as it would have been for you." 

I stood away from him, as if he was made of radioactive material. "I don't think I'm going to see Eloisa for a while." 

"Neither am I." Then, without missing a beat, he added, "I want you to take a few days off." 

"But Paul -"

"I'll explain everything to Eloisa," he insisted. "Once we have it all ironed out, you can join her again, but by then you'll both be working on the new place and you won't see me for a long time." 

I wasn't optimistic about wanting to see him again, either. "Is this your word against mine?" 

"I would never do anything to hurt you. Professionally." 

"And personally?" 

"Monica, will you please let me work this out with my sister first? I already don't know how I'm going to make this up to you." 

My eyes began to water. 

"Please, Monica, don't cry." 

"I'm not crying, Paul." But I was angry, for sure. I just hadn't decided if I was angry at him, or myself. 

He shook his head, letting strands of his hair fly off in different directions. "Take a break, why don't you? I'll figure something out." 

That sounded more like the Paul Carreon I knew - the big brother who insisted on doing things his way. "You're the boss, Paul." 

"I know." But he could not look me in the eye as he said those words.