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Chapter 2

Looking for a space for my bakery turned out to be a longer process than I had planned. I wanted to find just the right place. I had a limited budget so it couldn’t be too big or in an expensive neighbourhood. It should be in a good location where people naturally walked or spent time and, finally, it had to speak to me. With Wictor acting chauffeur, I had spent the better part of the day looking at locations. Never finding what I was looking for. We were down to the last location on the realtor’s list. On paper it looked good. A smaller cafe that was located along the popular promenade along the canal that ran through the city. When we got there, Wictor and I took a walk around the place. I had to stop myself from squealing out of joy when I looked at it. It was all I ever wanted. From the promenade the place had two big windows that took up most of the wall. There was a glass door and then a smaller window. The windows started about knee high, below them were a brick wall with decorative green iron fence in front of it. The former cafe was a standalone building, one story tall with a cute slanted roof. It was squashed between two four story buildings.

“Isn’t it adorable?” I asked Wictor. He smiled and ran his hand through his longer, black curls on top of his head.

“It is,” he agreed.

“Let’s go around so we can meet up with the realtor. I want to look inside,” I said, pulling his hand. He laughed and followed. The insides were almost as perfect as the outside. The front room had a small pastry display cabinet, a small bench for the register and a couple of shelving and bench units behind the register. There was some open space between the register and the windows.

“The former owner had about five tables set up here,” Anya, my realtor, told us. She indicated the empty space. I couldn’t for the life of me see how that was possible. The space wasn’t big enough for five tables. We continued to the kitchen. It was a good kitchen for baking. The ovens were a little outdated, but Anya reassured me they were all in working order. The work benches were all in stainless steel, which I liked. Easy to keep clean. The walk in refrigerator and freezer worked and looked clean. The same was true of the storage area.

“Why is this place so cheap?” I finally asked. In my mind it had everything you could want, including a good location in a good part of the city.

“It’s because of the size in combination with it being zoned and equipt for food preparation. To be honest, the five tables the previous owner set up were almost non-functional due to the space. But any less than that and the turn around wasn’t profitable. The place is also too close to the promenade to be able to have outdoor seating. So most people looking for a place to open a cafe or restaurant will find it lacking. The kitchen takes up most of the space. But converting the place to a shop or something similar would cost too much. I honestly don’t know what the original owner was thinking when they decided to make it into what it is,” Anya told us. This is why I worked with her, she was brutally honest.

“Well, it would work for me,” I told her. I wanted to open a bakery, sure it would be nice with a place for customers to sit down, but I didn’t need the turnaround a cafe did. “Can we take another look around?” I asked.

“Be my guest, I will be here in the kitchen if you have questions,” she told me. Wictor followed me out into the shop.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. His soft brown eyes sparkled as he knew me well enough to know I had an idea.

“If I were to make proper display windows, I would lose a little floor space, but not too much. I could then place one bar table along the window, I think it would have space for five or six bar stools. I could then extend the display cases all along the inner wall, with shelving and counters behind. I think I would even have room for a small table and three chairs along the wall with the small table. I could sit down and talk to customers that had orders,” I described to him. Wictor followed my pointing hand and hummed.

“I like it. It would give the customers who choose to stay and sit at the bar table a nice view over the promenade and the canal. And it will still feel airy,” he agreed.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“Don’t ask me, that is up for you to decide. But this is the only place that has lit that fire in your eyes. It has been a long time since I saw it, it looks good on you, sis,” he said. We walked back into the kitchen.

“I like it, but I need to do some calculations in regards to renovations needed and so on. Can I call you tomorrow and let you know?” I asked

“You do that, but if someone else says yes before you do, I won’t hold it,” Anya said.

“That’s fair,” I agreed, we shook hands and she asked if we wanted to go out through the front. We both accepted and she let us out onto the promenade. I turned around and looked at the place. “I can see it, all decked out and ready for the grand opening,” I told Wictor and took two steps back to get a better view. I walked into a wall and felt the wall move. I lost my balance and was about to fall backwards when strong hands gripped me around my waist. I found my footing and turned around.

“I’m so sorry, I was…” I started to apologise but the rest of the sentence died on its way between my brain and my mouth as I met honey coloured eyes. They belonged to an older man, he was huge, in a good way. Shoulders that went on forever, he wore a white shirt and an unbuttoned black leather jacket that showed his body off. His hair was combed back and was jet black with grey streaks running through it. A true silver fox if I had ever seen one. Even his neat beard had salt and pepper streaks in it. And then there were the honey eyes that rendered me speechless. We looked at each other for a long moment, then he cleared his throat.

“No worries, accidents happen. I’m happy you didn’t hurt yourself. Have a nice day,” he said in a voice that could only be described as sexy.

“You too,” I finally managed to say. He turned around and walked away. After five paces, he looked around, our eyes met once again and he smiled at me as he put on dark sunglasses and then turned around and continued on his way. Why was I more turned on from the simple encounter than I had been in… forever?

“Earth to Hana,” Wictor said. I looked at him and saw him snickering.

“What?” I asked and made an effort to collect myself and stop drooling over a man like a schoolgirl over a boy band.

“That was one sexy fox,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I didn’t notice,” I said.

“Sure. Should I hunt him down and give him your number? God knows you could use a little mindless fun,” he teased.

“Get a grip, I’m not that desperate. I don’t need to chase men down the streets,” I said. But when we walked back towards the car, I couldn’t help but turn around and look in the direction the man had gone. Of course he was nowhere to be found.

I was haunted by those honey-coloured eyes all afternoon. I was trying to do calculations on what the renovations I wanted to do to the bakery would cost and if it was in my budget. But every so often those eyes popped up in my mind. Clearly I was more desperate than I was admitting even to myself if a stranger got me going like this. It was dark outside when a knock on my door had me put down my iPad and look through the peephole. Two men in suits stood outside, they didn’t look like someone who would want to spread the good word of their god, so I opened the door, but kept the safety chain on.

“Yes?”

“Mrs Hunting? I’m detective Rodrigues and this is detective Smith,” the blond man outside my door said. Both men pulled out detective badges and showed me. They looked authentic.

“It’s Miss Bishop now, how can I help you?” I asked. I had changed back to my maiden name as soon as I could.

“We are looking for your husband, Simon Hunting,” detective Smith said.

“Ex-husband. I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since we settled the divorce in court, my lawyer has handled all contact,” I told him and wondered what Simon had got himself into.

“Could we get the contact info for your lawyer?” detective Rodrigues asked.

“Sure, one moment,” I said, closing the door. I may be a little paranoid, but I was a single woman living in the city. I took precautions. I got one of my lawyers business cards. I handed it to the detectives.

“Do you know where your husband would go if he was trying to hide?” detective Smith asked.

“His parents’ house or one of their properties I guess,” I told him. He nodded and took notes.

“Have you heard of a man called Otto Aksakov?” the detective asked.

“No, who is he?”

“No one,” detective Smith said.

“Were you aware of any illegal activities your husband took part in?” detective Rodrigues asked.

“Ex-husband, and no. Should I be calling my lawyer?” I asked.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for talking to us. Please let us know if your husband, ex-husband, contacts you in any way,” detective Smith said, handing me a business card.

“Okay,” I told him and closed the door. The whole interaction gave me a bad feeling. What could Simon have got himself into? His family was wealthy, he was a successful businessman, why would he risk getting caught up in something illegal. I put on the kettle to make some tea when there was another knock on the door. I looked out the peephole again and saw another set of men in suits. Another set of detectives? I opened the door like before but as soon as I did someone pushed at it, it flew open until the security chain stopped it. there was a grunt from the other side of the door. “What are you doing?!” I called out and tried to push the door shut. But it was like the door had got stuck in the open position, I couldn’t make it budge.

“Open the fucking door!” someone screamed from the outside. A hand reached in through the opening, it clawed after me as I tried to stay away from it and at the same time push on the door. The top of the hand was covered in a tattoo of a skull with a flowering vine that came out of its eye sockets. It was beautiful, but it terrified me.

“Go away or I will call the cops!” I shouted back.

“It would be the last thing you do. Where is our money?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t have any money. You have the wrong person. Go away!”

“Really? Your husband told us he gave it all to you, Hana Hunting. Now give it back to us!” I froze for a moment, he knew my name and it sounded like he had talked to Simon. Together with the visits from the detective only moments earlier, I was convinced he was telling the truth. The security chain made a strained sound. I pushed on the door again.

“I don’t know what Simon told you. He hasn’t given me any money and he is my ex-husband!” I was getting desperate. How long would I be able to keep them at bay? What would happen when I couldn’t? The pressure on the door from the other side went away and I tried to hurry to shut it. I had almost made it when I felt the impact of someone throwing themselves at the door. I flew back and the chain objected again. I threw myself at the door.

“What is going on out there? Why are you making a ruckus? I’m calling the police!” I had never been so happy about living opposite Mrs Rowinski, my nosy neighbour, as I was at that moment. There were several loud curses heard from the other side.

“We will be back, if you talk to the cops, it will only make it worse for yourself,” the man on the other side of the door told me. Then he was gone and I could close the door. I shut it and turned all the locks, making sure it was secure. For good measure, I dragged the dresser in front of it.

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