Luke Butts In

"Mom, it's happening again only to the extreme," Steph said.

Jessie was busy decorating a wedding cake when Steph approached. "What's that?"

"Hot Asian guy asking for you by name."

Nerves gave Jessie a sudden jolt of adrenaline, and the latticework in front of her turned into a modern art rendition of an inkblot.

"Damn." Jessie immediately took corrective steps to start all over. "Min Jun is here?"

"No, Mom. This is someone different. He's right out of an anime series like Liam watched when he was a kid."

Jessie glanced at her daughter and wondered when she had outgrown the label of kid. "Fine. Tell him I'll be right there. Two minutes."

Two minutes of curiosity was enough to kill a cat. Jessie only knew one Asian—Min Jun—and the neighborhood was predominantly white, not that she cared about race any more than she cared about wealth besides having enough of it to care for her family. The curiosity came more with Steph's description. Jessie didn't know much about anime. She remembered bright colors and big eyes. Subtitles had never been her thing, so when Liam turned on his cartoons, she had used it as an excuse to be busy elsewhere.

The second she entered the dining area, she understood Steph's comments. Periwinkle blue hair cut long on top and short around the sides hid the stranger's eyes. He had a row of earrings along his ear with a chain attached from one to a nose ring. He wore a white hoodie and jeans with black and purple high tops. Several silver rings adorned the hands cupping a steaming coffee mug.

Jessie took a deep breath and headed across the room, still wiping frosting from her hands with a towel.

The man looked up when Jessie asked, "Hello, I'm Jessie. I own the place. How can I help you?" She pasted on her best customer service smile.

The man looked up through his tousled hair with obviously unnatural violet eyes. Had those contacts been around when Jessie was a teen, she would have gladly sacrificed all her earnings for a month on them.

"Really? I expected more." His voice was smokey, a wisp of a sound that was distinctly male and unforgettable.

His accent was thick, but Jessie had no problem understanding him. Even so, she was for sure she must have misconstrued his words. "Excuse me?"

"Sit. We need to talk." He motioned to the seat opposite of him, a seat that Jessie owned and yet was left feeling as if she should feel honored to be allowed to occupy.

"Do you want coffee?" He asked.

"No, thank you. What can I do for you?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

Jessie fought not to squirm under his inspection.

"You're nothing special, are you? At least physically. I know. You must be good in bed."

"What!" Jessie felt her face flush as her ire rose. She shook her head, trying to maintain control of her tongue. What she wanted to do was tell this joke of a man with his perfect features and sultry voice to get out of her bakery. No, what she really wanted was to tell him to fuck off. But she was a professional, and her daughter was witness to this exchange.

"Do I need to speak slower? Hire a translator?" He asked.

"No, but I think you've confused me with someone else. I don't know you, and my sexual prowess is none of your business. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

Jessie placed her hands on the table's edge and was halfway out of her seat when he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

"I'm not finished."

Jessies tried to jerk away, but his grip was firm. "Let go, or I'll have my daughter call the police." This had gone too far. Accosting her here, in The Flour Pot, her sanctuary where she had always felt safe, was beyond wrong. It was an abomination. Her eyes narrowed, and her temper fought for dominance over the escalating anxiety from this disturbance.

"Sit. Please. Five minutes. And I'll leave." His voice was even, calm, cold.

She looked from where he was holding her to the odd eyes. Through the fringe, she could see he wore eyeliner and eyeshadow. His lips glistened as if freshly glossed. After a pause, he took the hint and released her. He motioned for her to sit again.

"Please," he said.

"Who are you?"

His eyes widen and his brows drew up as if that was the last question he ever expected her to ask. "I'm Luke."

"Well, Luke, if you want me to stay, I insist you treat me respectfully. This is my bakery, and I won't be insulted here. Do you get me?"

"Mhm." He nodded once.

"Then say what you came here to say, since it is clear you aren't here to buy baked goods."

"Stay away from MJ."

"Okay, but who is MJ?"

"MJ. Min Jun. He should be with BEXT. Not with you."

"BEXT? You mean his band?" The pieces started falling together. "You're one of the band members, aren't you? I mean the hair and everything. I should have guessed."

"You are dating MJ, and you know nothing about BEXT? You don't know who I am?" He seemed sincerely surprised.

"I'm sorry, but I don't and I'm not. I mean, I'm not dating Min Jun. I just supply desserts to his club. Well, I mean, I will when it opens if he likes the tasting menu."

"You turned down Min Jun? But why? Any woman would be lucky to have him."

"That's private, but if you must know, I don't have time for dating."

Luke cocked his head and looked at her like she was a new species at the zoo.

"He's a god in music. Good looking, wealthy, super talented. Virile. He could and would give you everything you ever wanted. You could leave this du—"

Jessie held up a hand. "Don't you dare say it. My grandmother started this bakery. I love it more than my own life."

Luke made a zipping motion across his mouth. "But why?"

"I'm not looking to date anyone right now. My life is full as it is."

"You have another man then?"

Jessie sighed. "Why do so many people assume a woman needs a man to find fulfillment. No, I don't have a man. I have a job I love. Two, actually. Beautiful children, a beautiful home, loyal friends, and I can take care of myself without trusting a man to do it for me."

"Huh." Luke sat back and looked at her like she was the rare byproduct of something remarkable like the mating of a fluffy bunny to a cheetah. "So, you didn't mention sex. Do you not like sex?"

"I didn't say that. I said I have a full life."

"Then you take care of your own needs?"

"Luke, that is off limits, and I answered your question about Min Jun. I have work. Can I go now?"

Luke nodded. "No. Go back to work, but no. I don't believe you." He arose. "So, I will be back until I do believe you."

He was taller than he had looked sitting there. Every bit as tall as Min Jun but slenderer, his movements slightly more effeminate.

"I'll bring my favorite tea." He nodded toward Steph. "The girl can brew it for me."

"You're welcome to visit any time, Luke, but this is a business. These tables are for paying customers—not stalkers."

"Stalker? You think I'm a stalker?"

"Yes, I do. What else would you call someone who intends to follow you around just to observe your activities?" She really didn't believe he would harm her. First, he was a public figure. It would be too easy to hurt his reputation. And, she suspected Min Jun would take care of Luke if he became more than a loudmouthed annoyance, which she was used to dealing with at the bar, but not at the bakery. Most were all talk and no action.

"Then I will bring a laptop and work here. I will buy one pastry an hour to go with my tea. Will that suffice to secure my status as a customer?"

Jessie nodded. "Fine, but there is nothing to see here. I bake cakes. I go to my second job and work there until early morning. I go home and sleep, then start all over again.

"That's my life, Luke. It's not exciting, but it is mine, and I'm not looking to change."

"Not even for MJ?"

"Not even."

Luke stewed on her answers for a bit. "We will see."

"Suit yourself. I'm going back to work."

This time, he didn't stop her. She returned to the kitchen cursing the day she decided to have a one and done. She knew other people who swiped right for a booty call all the time, but the first time she tried to hook up with a stranger, she gained a boyfriend-wannabe and, apparently, a stalker. Oddly, not the same person. Oh, and a pregnant roomer who she had yet to have a conversation with.

Jakara was either sleeping or out when Jessie was home, and Liam wasn't returning her calls. She had no idea if he was still a student or living on the streets.

Jessie stepped back and looked at the rose blossom she had just created. "Fudge bucket," Jessie muttered as she assessed her work. The blossom looked a lot like her life right now—messy, unappetizing, and a bit boring.

She snapped the monstrosity off the pedestal and tossed it into the trash. No matter what she had said to Luke, she could be honest with herself at least. It didn't mean Min Jun was the answer. But Jessie new there was more to life only now wasn't the time to find it.

She glanced through the passthrough at Steph. Another year. Two at most, and she would restructure her life around The Flour Pot and what made her happy.

First, she had to define what made her happy.