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Chapter six
Nope, Don’t Like That
Georgie
I feel my perfect, fairy-tale bubble popping the second Alfie confronts Neil.
“Just ignore him.” I climb out and grab Alfie’s hand. I try to pull him past Neil. But he digs in his heels.
Alfie steps toward him. “Baby, who is this fucker?”
I watch with a racing heart as Neil sneers at the endearment. “Oh, she didn’t tell you about me?” His tone is slimy and patronizing. I hate it.
I feel secure behind Alfie’s unwavering stance and shout, “Why would I? You are nobody to me.”
His face contorts and his voice shakes with rage. “You—”
“You better watch the next words out of your mouth or I will drop you right here.” Despite the situation, my pussy flutters at Alfie’s strong, protective tone.
“Pff, whatever,” Neil scoffs. He’s always been a chicken at the first sign of pushback. He flops down at a nearby patio table with a huff and opens a book as if we are the ones keeping him from peacefully reading.
“Come on, Georgie girl.” Alfie wraps his arm around my waist, and we cross the patio to my trailer.
He watches my back as I unlock and go inside. I reluctantly turn to tell him goodbye, dreading to see him go. But he’s not looking at me expectantly. Instead, he’s standing, shoulders squared at the base of the steps with his back to me, just like he did when I let myself in.
“Alfie?”
He looks over his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” My chest expands with warmth. “But you can tell me who that asshole is and what you’d like me to do with him.”
I sigh, knowing this was coming. “Okay, but will you come inside? I need to start prep.”
He steps into the trailer but keeps the door open and a watchful eye on it.
I start explaining while going through my morning routine. “He was one of my first ‘regulars’ when I opened two years ago. I thought he was nice and charming and I appreciated the support, so when he asked me on a date, I said yes.”
I flip on the espresso machines and begin to fill their tanks for the steamer. “We only went on a few dates, but he became so obsessive—texting that he missed me twenty times in a row even though I’d seen him ten minutes ago. And when I didn’t reciprocate, he got angry . . . like threw a rock through my window angry.”
Alfie’s jaw clenches and his face hardens. His tone is steely. “Were you hurt?”
“No, thankfully, but it scared me. I mean, he knows where I work, where I live. I feel like he can get to me anywhere.”
“Not anymore,” he promises.
I smile softly, touched but also sad this is even something we have to deal with. “He just keeps popping up, acting like I owe him something or like we were in some sort of serious relationship and I’m ignoring him. The cops can’t do anything because he isn’t violent other than the one time he broke my window. Even then, I couldn't prove that it was him, but I knew it was.”
I can feel myself getting frustrated just retelling everything. Alfie must sense it because he pulls me to him and kisses my forehead. I can’t believe the amount of comfort and safety I feel with this man after so little time together, but I do.
I’ve spent so long showing up to work anxious and stressed—my dream I built for myself—wondering if Neil would show up, what obscenities and offenses he would spew.
Would I arrive to piles of dog shit on the counter again?
Which variation of “whore” in spray paint would I need to scrub off today?
These are the questions that I’ve woken up to every morning for a year.
“I just hate feeling scared all the time,” I admit with a defeated sigh.
“That’s terrible. I am so sorry, Georgie.” He strokes my cheek, genuine care in his eyes. Then the corner of his mouth tugs in a smile. “I say we return the favor.”
