"You are pretty and I like you already," the skull and bone tattooed Hispanic says with a heavy accent. I'd expected he would say something that silly. How patronizing! I don't need any boy or man to accede to my ego. I know I am beautiful but after my two year failure of a marriage, I'd developed a kind of distaste for men, particularly the crass ones.
"The sooner you state the purpose of your presence, the quicker you will get an answer." I say, clenching my jaw and already fuming inside me.
Tattooed man grins some more, then slowly swipes the tip of his tongue from one end of his upper lip to the other as his friends grin alongside, like his nauseating act is supposed to be funny.
"Tough lady, I see. We," he gestures to his friends "will leave once you tell us where your boss is. ¿Bien?"
"What boss are you talking about? I am the boss here."
Tattooed man chuckles like I am a comedian or something. "Aurélio and Javier are lucky my men and I did not gun down this ridiculous camouflage of his. We come in peace." He scrunches up his nose and it seems he wants to spit on the floor. "Yeah lady. Tell Aurélio especially we are here now."
I am torn between laughing out loud and hitting these idiots on the head. Obviously they have come to the wrong 'Panettone'. I notice from my peripheral vision that Carlos Raúl is standing by the doorway leading to the mixing room, his apron and face dusted with flour. He appears pissed and I somehow sense he had done something.
Let's see if I can explain the situation to these men. "Look. You are clearly mistaken and in the wrong —"
"No. No. No mistake," Tattooed man interrupts me, standing to his full height which I realize is like 6"3. My head is somewhere around his chest area. I stand my ground, not stepping back as he expects.
I glimpse respect or awe in his eyes just as a black Ford SUV screeches and pulls up in front of the bakery. I close my eyes for a second and groan before opening it. It's going to be a long morning.
This can only mean Carlos Raúl had called my uncle because Pedro, who I earlier gave the task to, is still by my side, like he promised. I look through the glass door to see two men dressed in black shirts and black suits with dark specs come out of the SUV followed by my uncle and his friend, Javier… Yep, long morning.
Few people walking on the street stopped to stare. Other staff somewhere inside the bakery left their work and came into the café too. So much for publicity but their presence is calming.
Immediately my uncle and Javier step inside the café, the unexpected happens. I admit I should have been smart but I did not see it coming. I underestimated these three strangers. Tattooed man curls his arms around my neck in a tight grip that was suffocating and I felt a cold steel metal touch my temple. My breath hitched up —it's a glock.
Audible gasps erupted from within my staff behind me. My uncle narrows his eyes at the three intruders, his face looking murderous while Javier smiles calmly like he is in the midst of friends.
"Let her go!" my uncle growled in his baritone voice.
(Watch out for the next part)