Mr. Stripper

Something fishy.

**Believe in your inner voice**

I rode my bike back to the bakery shop, a look of horror on my face.

I have a bad feeling about those who had placed an order, and to make matters worse, the guy inside the car who had smashed the pie appears to be someone who screams danger.

The mask and his lethal gaze.

Gush.

I swallowed hard and returned to the bakery shop.

When I arrived, I parked my bike and began explaining what had happened.

My boss remained silent throughout my explanation, and after finishing, he turned around and entered the shop. "Are you sure what you're saying is true?" Emma inquired, and I nodded.

"Have you forgotten that Emery is going to be a priest someday? He hardly lies, so I believe he's telling the truth," Christina said to Emma.

She seems to be the only person who believes me out of everyone I've told about my incident.

Even my boss believes I'm lying, and he knows how much I despise lying. "What do you think we should do then?" Emma asks.

I exhale in exasperation. "I think we should stop baking more pies because they're going to use our pies against us, and that would be bad," I explain.

"I don't think that's possible; my Dad has already invested a lot of time in the pies, so I don't think that's possible," Christina said, and since she knows her Dad better than she knows herself, I believe she's correct.

As three straight lines form on my forehead, I place my hands there. "If only there was a way to persuade Mr. Mathew that staying here isn't safe right now…"

"That's enough for today, Emery; I'm aware that you have a feeling that those who order three hundred Lemon Meringue Pie are bad people, and I understand you because their dressing alone gives a creepy vibe," Mr. Mathew said, making me smile.

He seems to believe me after all. "But..." he added, causing me to raise my brows in question. "But I'm aware that everything that has just happened to you is a mind trick," he added.

My smile had given way to a frown. "It's not a mind game, nor is it a trick of my mind," I defended myself.

My boss is the only person here who I thought would believe me.

He should believe me because I'm not the type of person who just makes stuff up whenever and however they want. "So what?" he asked, irritably.

"The man I saw inside the car gives me an odd feeling, and I believe we should just cancel the order; we can sell the pies that we have made to other customers, but we shouldn't sell it to them," I said sincerely.

"Emery!" yelled my boss.

I bite my lower lips before lowering my gaze. "Stop spilling trash, okay?" he says authoritatively.

My boss is yelling at me for the first time.

Everyone in the bakery became quiet because they had never seen him become so enraged before. "Let's talk to him later; he doesn't seem to be in the mood," Emma says close to my ear.

I scuffed. "But he has to know what we're getting ourselves into," I say back to Emma.

She pulls me in for a close hug before promptly patting my back. "Just don't course any scene, okay?" she says quietly, and I nod quickly.

I decided to concentrate on my work as soon as she pulled away from me.

I was able to stay at the bakery until the end of the day because I was not going to any of my other jobs.

"You did a great job, everyone," Mr. Mathew said, praising everyone who worked for him at the time.

They all smiled, but I didn't. "Why are you still carrying the incident that you claimed you saw in your mind?" my boss inquired, and I exhaled.

"Aren't you afraid?" I asked in response to his question.

"Emery, why should I be afraid? I didn't commit any crime," Mr. Mathew responded.

"They don't want to use the pie for something good, so that's reason enough to be afraid; I know God has given us power and authority to step on snakes and scorpions, but he didn't tell us to work in their den," I explain.

"What is your statement leading to?" he inquires. "It's best if we just sell the already baked pie to customers who come here to order pies; I have a bad feeling about selling it to them." I explain.

"I'll think about it," my boss said, dismissing me to go home and rest.

"Are you sure about your feelings?" Emma asked as we were both on our way back home.

Emma and I share an apartment that's close to each other, so we usually walk back together. "I'm certain," I murmur.

"Well, I don't think boss will ever change his mind, so I guess we'll just have to pray for him," Emma said, and I agree with her.

We both go to our separate houses, and as soon as I step inside, I knelt down and pray.

The next day flew by, so I went straight to my laundry job, followed by a trip to the mall, where I work as a sales representative in a boutique.

I didn't bother telling Mr. Matthew because I believe he is aware that Tuesday is the day I usually get extremely busy.

It was already past six o'clock when I was able to close from my other side jobs.

I rush towards the bakery shop because one of the men told my boss that he should deliver the pies before seven o'clock.

"Are the pies ready?" I inquired as soon as I entered the bakery.

"Yeah, it is, but they said they no longer want it by seven, but by eight," Mr. Mathew explained.

Gush. Something fishy is still in the air. "Ohh! And is there already a van?" I inquire, because if we are to deliver it by eight o'clock, we will have plenty of time to get things in order.

"The van is ready, and we've uploaded all the pies," Christina said this time.

"That's great," I exclaimed. "Emery, there's a small problem," Emma says.

My brows furrow. "What is the problem?" I inquire.

"Those who ordered the delivery want you to be the only one who delivers the goods," Mr. Mathew explains.

Yesterday, while delivering their goods, the man who spoke to me on the phone addressed me by name, despite the fact that I had not mentioned my name to him.

"I told you all we should cancel this; why would he want me to do the delivery?" I wonder.

Mr. Mathew approached me before saying. "He said you did a good job yesterday, so he expects you to do a good job today."

I didn't want to argue because it's wrong.

When it was seven o'clock in the evening, I set out for the road, following the address on the car that they had given to my boss.

They require delivery from an undeveloped area with no street lights.

It was pitch black everywhere, and it was difficult to see any building, let alone vehicles.

I parked the car as soon as I arrived at my destination, but who would have guessed that my destination is a place that should not be visited at night.