Chapter 2

ANNA

~His hands, everywhere. Warmth spreading through me.~

~His smile, his eyes, a deep forest green.~

“Miss Johnson, glad you could join us,” Professor Peterson’s voice pulls me back to reality.

I’m standing face to face with the last person I wanted to see, my professor peering over his shoulder.

What the hell is ~he~ doing here?

“Miss Johnson!”

“Sorry, professor. Professor Stanford wanted to discuss a paper I wrote,” I lie smoothly, careful not to betray my nervousness.

“I know. Your classmates filled us in.” I nod and head to my seat in the front row, avoiding the gaze of the man at the front.

My professor walks over to the man who once held my heart.

“As I was saying, this is James Brown, CEO of JB Corporation in New York. They’ve just opened a new office here in Seattle and are looking for fresh talent. Since some of you are graduating this year, I invited Mr. Brown to talk about his company.” She glances at me as she speaks.

I ignore James. I can’t look at him. I won’t.

I can’t meet his gaze. ~It’s too painful.~

He’s opening a new office here?

When he left four years ago, he had the opportunity to be a CEO of a new company. Now it seems he’s taken over the whole damn company. And he’s here in Seattle.

James starts talking about the company. It sounds like a great opportunity. If I were being honest, I’d ask for an interview since I’m graduating soon. But not with him. I can’t.

I don’t want to work under him. I can’t trust him, not anymore.

I have a job, a plan, a dream. A dream I’m determined to achieve.

An hour later, he asks if we have any questions. The students start firing off questions, some about the company, others just trying to get to know him. ‘How old are you?’ ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ Why are they even in this class if all they want to do is flirt?

Suddenly, the teacher’s voice echoes in my head. Why am I thinking about that?

“Anna?”

“Miss Johnson?”

“Anna!” The teacher’s voice snaps me out of my daydream.

“Yes?” I respond innocently.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes. Are you okay?” I nod.

“Sorry, I was just taking notes,” I tell her, which is partly true. I was taking notes before I drifted off.

I need to get my act together.

But how can I when the man of my dreams, the one who shattered my heart, is standing in the same room—acting like he’s never seen me before?

“I asked Mr. Brown to give you an interview, since you’re graduating soon.” My eyes widen—~She did what?~—and I look at James for the first time. He smirks, enjoying the idea that I need him.

As if I need his help.

“That’s very kind of you, professor, but it’s not necessary,” I tell her with a smile.

“Why not?” she asks.

“I already have a job,” I tell her. And it’s true—I work at the bakery. That’s my dream. And I’m so close. In a few years, I’ll take over the bakery. Once we’re stable, I want to expand, get my pies and baked goods all over the country.

“Well, it never hurts to have a backup plan,” she says with a smile.

She doesn’t know my situation, not all of it at least. Actually, no one on the faculty knows, except for Jim. I’ve told him everything about my past during our Pasta Nights over the past year.

James and I met when I was still in high school. He was in college, studying business through a shorter program. He’s a few years older than me—I was 15 and he was 18. When he got the chance to leave town and pursue his dream at 19, I told him I’d be okay. And I was, until I wasn’t.

They say you never forget your first love. In my case, it’s true.

What they don’t tell you is how much you’ll hate him afterwards. Hate him for making you feel like you weren’t enough. My heart shattered when I found out he’d changed his phone number.

I really thought he loved me.

I guess I was wrong.

“No, you’re right, professor. And thank you, but the contract is already signed. There’s not much I can do about it,” she sighs.

“Okay then. Congratulations, I know you’ll do great,” I smile at her and go back to taking notes.

There are a few more questions before she dismisses the class. I pack up my things and head for the door as fast as I can. But then his voice stops me.

“Miss Johnson, could you stay a moment?” I roll my eyes at his formal tone.

~Really, James?~

The others shoot me annoyed looks as they leave the classroom. I do my best not to snap at them and be the bigger person.

Which is sometimes very hard.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Brown, but as I just said, the contract is already signed. I don’t have anything more to say to you,” I respond with the same professional politeness he used with me.

“Now Anna, that’s not very polite,” my teacher says, sounding disappointed.

“Sorry, professor, but I have to go. I have a job to get to,” I apologize.

I use my job as an excuse, because I really don’t want to be here—talking to him.

“Oh, you have to go to work?” I nod.

“Like every day.”

James knits his brows together, but doesn’t say a word.

“When do you start?” She tosses the question at me, a challenging glint in her eyes.

~Damn, she’s onto me.~

“In thirty minutes.” She nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

“Well, this will only take ten minutes and the bakery is just five minutes away.” I nod, cursing under my breath.

“Bakery?” James looks genuinely surprised. He knows I love baking, but he clearly didn’t expect me to work at a bakery.

“Yes, sir.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder, matching his surprise with my own brand of sass.

“Damn it, Anna…” He mutters, frustration clear in his voice.

“What do you want, James? What could you possibly want from me?” I snap back, all pretense of politeness gone.

“Anna!” Our teacher’s voice rings out, shocked by my outburst and clearly angry.

“It’s okay, I deserve it.” He finally admits, acknowledging that he knows me.

“Good to know you remember me.” I retort, my voice still laced with anger, my gaze locked with his. He lowers his head, looking ashamed.

Our teacher watches our exchange, a puzzled look on her face.

“You two know each other.” She states the obvious. I wish she’d leave us alone, but it doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere.

“Yes.” James admits.

“Sort of.” I add, almost simultaneously.

“A…”

“Just don’t!” I cut him off, my hand slamming against the desk next to him. He flinches at my tone. I can’t bear to hear him use the same nickname he used when we were together.

That nickname holds too many memories.

~The way he used to touch me.~

~The way he used to tell me he loved me.~

~The way he used to look into my eyes.~

~The way he used to make me feel.~

Maybe it’s better that he remembers me this way, angry.

A side of me he’s never seen before.

“I need to go home and change, so just tell me what you want so I can do that.”

“I just wanted to know if you really didn’t need the job.”

“I said I didn’t, so why ask?”

“Because I know you.” I can’t help but laugh.

“You ~knew~ me four years ago. A lot has changed.”

“I can see that.” He says, his gaze lingering on me.

“James, don’t do that.” The teacher warns him.

“She just looks so different. Her parents are well-off, so I don’t understand why she looks like this, or why she’s at this college. No offense.” He quickly adds, raising his hands in a defensive gesture towards the professor.

Why can’t he just listen to the warning? Why does he always have to figure everything out on his own?

I’m furious, seething with anger.

I’m doing everything I can to get an education and be a good mom at the same time. And here he is, criticizing my appearance.

The teacher shakes her head at him when he mentions my parents. My face must be a clear indication of how angry I am.

“What did I say?”

~Breathe in, breathe out.~

~Breathe in, breathe out.~

~Breathe in, breathe out.~

Until I feel calm again.

“Like I said, a lot has changed. It’s none of your business, but since I know you, I’ll tell you.” He sighs and nods, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“My parents kicked me out four years ago.” His smirk instantly disappears, replaced by a look of anger.

“They did what?!”

“When?”

“How?”

“Why?” His questions come fast and furious.

James never liked my parents. He hated how strict they were, how they wouldn’t let us spend time together, how they dictated my wardrobe, and how they set me up on dates with so-called good Christian boys.

Those boys were the worst... They were worse than pigs.

“I told you what you wanted to know, James. You got your explanation. That’s more than I ever got. You turned your back on me four years ago, left without a word. You didn’t keep in touch like you promised.”

He looks at me, stunned, as if he’s just realizing the impact he had on me.

“I guess I don’t deserve that kind of love after all.”

“A...” I shake my head, trying to block out the memories associated with that nickname.

“Please respect this. It’s the least you can do.”

“But..”

“If you loved me like you claimed, you’d leave me the hell alone!” I shout at him, fighting back tears. I bolt out of the room as fast as I can.

I can’t help but notice that James watches me all the way out of the building.