Estrella

Chapter 4: "Of course, Mrs. De' Luca."

Things were good. We were happy.

Especially Elle.

She loved Mrs. Honey. I'm so happy she has a grandma figure in her life now.

Their bond is so adorable too. It's the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

It's also great because it means Elle doesn't complain about going to work with me everyday. I was for real worried about that.

She can be very gripey.

It's been about three weeks since I got the job. It has good pay for a café, and I'm ahead of bills this month.

Mrs. Honey also give us a bunch of free pastries every night, ones that would just go to the trash if we didn't take them.

Since we get them almost everyday, I give most of them to homeless people on the streets. It brings me so much joy to be able to see the happiness in their eyes. If I could, I would want a job that would help them.

I met this one especially nice man, Robert. He's a graying old man in his sixties, a war veteran who got kicked out by his wife after he got into drugs due to PTSD. He's clean now, and I really wish I was in the financial state to actually make a difference in his life. He stays in the homeless shelter that I drop the pastries off too that is on my way home.

How people with money can live with themselves knowing that they have what others don't and not help is beyond me.

Though things have been good, they've also been a bit... strange. I felt like I was being watched all the time and though it was probably all in my head, it was still slightly unsettling. I ignore it most of the time, but it's been getting harder. I think Elle feels it too, because I see her looking around like she's looking for someone.

Again, I don't know. It's probably all in my head. Or maybe I've knocked one too many screws loose.

Anywho, today Mrs. Honey had a huge order and they paid extra for it to be delivered. So now I'm lugging out three boxing of pastries and walking them all the way into downtown.

I'm leaving Elle with Mrs. Honey because both her and Elle insisted; they wanted to make cinnamon rolls together. It felt totally weird and wrong not having her by my side, but I was glad she was having fun and I trusted Mrs. Honey. She was kind of like the mom I never had.

It was a very cloudy and cold day and for some weird reason, everyone was in a mood. The cars were honking way more than normal and the people- don't even get me started.

This woman bumped into me and she yelled at me about it.

She had almost made me drop the pastries.

Also, to be honest, it took all of my self control not to open the box and eat a cupcake. I was so hungry but I couldn't get food until after I delivered it because Mrs. Honey insisted that I go strait there and strait back and to not talk to anyone there.

It was all very strange, especially seeing her so anxious. I've never seen even an ounce of worry or anxiety on her face until now.

What was the problem? It was just one order.

I looked down at the directions pulled up on my old phone. It was some place called De' Luca Inc..

Huh? That name sounded familiar but I couldn't quite seem to remember where I had heard it from.

Oh well.

I walked for about five more minutes until the phone told me I had arrived. My eyes widened when I looked up to see that the building I was stopped at was one of the biggest in NYC. Why would this huge company order from Mrs. Honey's café? No offence, her food was delicious and all but lets be for real. Why?

I walked in and saw the front desk ladies. They were all in black identical pencil skirts and white blouses. They all looked the same too. The only differences were hair color and styles.

Pretty copy and paste if you ask me.

I walked up and asked, "Is this De' Luca Inc.?"

She looked at me like I just asked if the sun was bright. "Yes." She stated with annoyance, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, um, okay then. I'm from Honey's café and I was told to deliver these here but I don't know who to give them to. Could you please show me where to drop them off?"

The ladies eyes seemed to widen as I said that, and what looked like fear entered them. I must've misread her expression. I've never been very good at reading people.

"Oh my goodness," She muttered under her breath but I still heard ,"Of course Mrs. De' Luca. Right this way."

I looked around me. There was no one around me. Did she have an ear piece in? I stood there expecting her to ignore me but she just looked at me expectantly.

"Were you talking to me?" I questioned, and she nodded.

"I think you've misunderstood me. I'm not Mrs. De' Luca, I'm from Honey's café."

She shook her head and nodded at me to follow her which I did, even though I was incredibly confused. She muttered something under her breath and all I caught was "poor girl."

I frowned.

She led me towards an elevator. I looked around the lobby as we walked. Everything here was so extravagant, so expensive. I was scared to even breath in here. The couch probably costed three times my rent alone.

We entered the elevator, and she clicked the top floor.

Oh no.

I'm deathly afraid of heights. I hated that our apartment wasn't bottom floor but it was all they had open and I was desperate. But this was different. It was like one hundred stories high! I wanted to refuse and go back to the lobby and tell her to take it herself, but I remembered Mrs. Honey. She had seemed so anxious about this order.

I decided that I would give it to whoever I needed to, not look at any windows, and quickly leave.

Surely I could handle it, right?

The elevator pinged, telling us that we had arrived at the top floor. My breath caught in my throat and I pathetically failed at trying not to think about how high up I was.

We walked though the elegantly decorated hallways, that were vastly different from the lobby's hallways, our shoes on the black tile the only sounds.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

I also noticed how tense the lady was. It was a full one-eighty from the annoyed way she was acting towards me earlier.

She pulled down her shirt to show more of her breasts as we neared a huge black door.

Gross.

She knocked.

I heard a gruff voice say enter, and it sounded familiar.

She walked into the room, me behind her and she stood so she was blocking my view to whoever was sitting at the huge maple wood desk.

"Mr. De' Luca, the girl from the café is here as requested." Her voice was so squeaky. It wasn't like that earlier.

"Leave." The voice said.

I turned around and started to walk out, thinking he was talking to both of us, until I heard a voice that I had forgot about over the past few weeks say, "Not you, Estrella."