Sugar Rush (14 page)

Chapter 21

“Well?” Sophie watched him with bright eyes as he took a second bite of the chocolate soufflé.

Eliot smiled. “Very good.”

“Does it taste like yours?”

He frowned. “Sophie, it doesn’t have to taste like mine to be good.”

She frowned back. “So, it doesn’ttaste like yours.”

He took another bite. “As flattering as that is, I think you are underestimating yourself. This is excellent,” he said.

She toyed with hers. “Whatever.”

Eliot sat his fork down beside his plate and wiped his mouth. Sophie had cooked a delicious and simple dinner of homemade Chicken Alfredo and steamed broccoli. But dessert was the real main course, and she’d spent the day working on a perfect chocolate soufflé. Apparently, she’d been trying to re-create something Eliot had created for a customer. The soufflé was good, not quite of the quality he’d produced, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

He took her hand in his. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes it seems as if you have to excel at everything you try. You don’t cut yourself any slack for mistakes.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It’s that bad?”

“No.” He laughed. “The soufflé is fine. I’m talking about you—Sophie Mayfield.”

She continued to toy with the food on her plate. “I don’t like to fail. What’s so bad about that?”

“The way you treat yourself when you do.” He nodded toward her plate. “Here you spent the whole day cooking this wonderful meal. But because you think it’s not perfect, or what you perceive as perfect, you are not able to enjoy it. Just seems like such a waste.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just hate to lose. It’s embarrassing.”

“And you hate being embarrassed or humiliated.”

“It’s got to be one of the worst feelings in the world.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed if you ever serve this soufflé to anyone else. It’s very good.”

She stood to collect the dishes, and Eliot stood to help her. “No, that’s okay, I got it.” She gestured toward her small living room. “Can you put some music on?”

He went into her living room. Digging through her stacks and stacks of CDs, he decided exactly what he would give her for Christmas…an MP3 player. He pulled out an Amy Winehouse CD and popped it in.

Sophie came back into the room carrying mugs of coffee. She placed them on the coffee table and, folding her leg beneath her, sat down on the couch.

He sat down beside her. “Listen, I have to go take care of some family business, and I’m going to be away for a few days.”

“Oh?” she asked with interest.

He simply nodded and sipped his coffee.

“El, you never say anything about your family. Are they in Texas?”

“Actually, Memphis.”

“Really? Is that why you took the job here? To be closer to your family?”

“Not exactly.” He took another sip of the coffee, trying to find a way to change the subject. He glanced around the room. “This is cozy. Lived here long?”

When she didn’t answer, he turned and looked at her.

“What are you keeping from me, El? I know you and I can feel you’re keeping something from me.”

He shrugged. “I have some pretty funky family dynamics. Nothing I want to talk about. Can we leave it there for now?”

She leaned forward until her nose was almost touching his. “Sure, but understand something. I better not find out you have a wife and kids stashed away somewhere. Because if I ever found out you were married…”

Unable to resist, he closed the rest of the distance between them and kissed her lips. “What are you going to do?” he teased, feeling relief. At least he was innocent of that charge.

“I will cut your balls off while your sleep.”

Eliot sat back in wide-eyed horror, and then she burst into laughter.

He shook his head. “You’re scary.”

“Only if you have a family hidden away somewhere.”

Later that night, they lay with limbs entwined in her soft, feathery bed after making love. Eliot could feel Sophie’s heartbeat slowing against his chest, and he knew she would be asleep soon.

At least he thought so, until she said, “How long will you be gone?”

“No more than three days.”

She ran her hand through his curly chest hair. “How am I supposed to live without this for three days?”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Hurry back to me.”

“I will. Sophie, about what you were saying earlier. About my never talking about my family.”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t have a very good childhood, and I try not to think about it too much.”

She turned on her side to look at him. “Sometimes talking about things helps you to work through them.”

Amidst the dim light, he looked into her concerned brown eyes. “I’m not sure I’m ready to work through this.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “Things have gotten even more complicated lately, and I just have some loose ends to tie up. When I do, then I’ll be able to tell you everything.”

Her mouth twisted in a sarcastic expression.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She folded her arms, and turned over to look up at the ceiling.

Eliot propped himself up on one elbow. “What?”

She sighed. “I dated this guy a while back, who tried to convince me he was some kind of undercover operative, as if I was an idiot or something. He would give me all these emotion-filled confessions about how there was so much he wanted to tell me and couldn’t, yada, yada, yada.”

Eliot laughed. “Is that what I sound like?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying it sounds a lot like you’re in the Mafia or something, all this clandestine stuff about painful memories, and—” she made air quotes with her hands “—family businessthat takes you away for days at a time—but you can’t tell me where you’re going or what you’re doing.”

“Hmmm. I see your point.”

She suddenly flipped over to face him again. “And the other guy I was dating—guess where he was going when he left on a ‘secret mission’?”

Eliot frowned. “Home to his family?”

She poked his forehead with her index finger. “You guessed it!”

Eliot covered her body, bearing her back down on the bed. “I’m not married, Sophie. I swear, I’m not married.” He lifted his right hand. “And if I’m lying may God let my balls falloff, before you ever have a chance to cutthem off.”

Sophie looked over his shoulder. “You hear that, God?”

Eliot laughed and kissed her neck. Being in this position with her made him already half-aroused. He shifted, lifting one of her legs higher on his hip. It was his favorite position with her,
because it allowed him to sink deep inside her body. “There’s only one, Sophie,” he whispered against the silky-soft skin of her shoulder. “For me, there is only you.”

Sophie moaned in satisfaction. “I hope so, baby…” She groaned, reaching beneath the covers to wrap her hands around his testicles. “I do so love these guys.”

Eliot laughed. Taking both her hands, he lifted them over her head, as he plowed into her body relentlessly, trying to tell her with his flesh what he already knew in his soul. There was only one woman for him, and she was it.

When El left the next morning, Sophie tried to play the part of the casual lover, but as he moved toward the door, she realized she would not see him for three full days, and she could not stop herself from rushing to him and wrapping her arms around him.

“Come back to me, fast,” she said against his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head. “I will.” And then he was gone.

Sophie tried to occupy herself with running the store, but all day she kept glancing up, expecting to see El somewhere in the area. When she returned home that night, she didn’t cook dinner, which would have just reminded her she was alone. Instead, she fixed a bowl of cereal and curled up in front of the television.

Just as she stepped out the shower around nine, the phone rang. She scrambled across the room, hoping, praying. “Hello?”

“What are you wearing?”

Her heart soared. “A wet towel.”

“Ooh, perfect timing. Take it off.”

She let the towel fall to the floor. He must have heard the swooping noise as it fell, because he said, “Now lay down on the bed.”

Feeling her heartbeat accelerate, she climbed into the bed, still holding the cordless phone against her ear.

“Do you miss me?”

“Yes,” she said in a stilted voice. “Every minute of the day.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, because I’ve been going crazy without you.” His own breathing grew heavier by the moment,
his voice deepening with lust. “I keep seeing these pictures in my head.”

“What pictures?” She licked her dry lips.

“You—the first time I saw you in the back room of the bakery. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“I close my eyes and I see it so clearly, you stroking yourself and calling my name. Those beautiful brown legs wide open, begging me to come inside. Those sweet, plump breasts needing the kind of love and attention only I can give them.”

“Yes, El, yes…I remember,” she moaned, her fingers inching down her midsection as he painted the vivid memory for her.

“You were like something out of a dream, and all I could think about was plunging as far inside you as I could go, and when I finally did…”

“Yes?” Her fingers toyed with her clit, her mind trying to stay focused on his words, on his voice, as she remembered exactly what it felt like to have him deep inside her.

“You closed around me like a new glove, so sweetly snug and tight.”

“Yes, oh, yes, I remember.”

“Your hot juices flowing over me, even through the condom I could feel your hot juice burning through me.”

The words were fading away, as Sophie’s attention centered on her own body. If she concentrated she could almost feel his heavy weight on top of her, holding her thighs open for him in that commanding way of his while he worked himself deeper and deeper inside her.

As if reading her mind, he said, “Can you feel that, baby?”

Sophie did feel it, the pressure building. She squeezed a hardened nipple as she imagined his mouth closing around one of her breasts. “Oh, El, I need you so much—hurry!”

She heard his groan of release through the phone and dropped the receiver as her orgasm washed over her. It didn’t last long, because she could not manipulate her body the way El could, causing her release to last forever, making her climax over and over again.

She picked up the phone and could hear his harsh breath on the other end. “El?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Hurry home to me.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, I’m trying.”

Chapter 22

When Sophie unlocked the front door of the bakery that morning, she noticed the big, silver sports sedan sitting at the curb but thought nothing of it.

As she entered the store and began turning on lights, she was surprised to see the door swing open and an older man follow her inside.

She was slightly wary, given his stern expression. “Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so. My name is Carl Fulton, owner of Fulton Foods.”

Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know if she should shake hands and introduce herself or demand he leave her store. She decided on the former. “Sophie Mayfield, nice to meet you.” She came forward with her hand extended, but he completely ignored it.

“I know who you are. Let me get straight to the point.” He glanced around the store. “We both know you are in no position to compete with my company, but for some fool reason you’ve
decided to try. You’ve been bidding on—and even winning—a few of my clients. But you won’t be able to maintain them, and they will eventually come back to me. So to save us both some trouble, I have come to hear your demands.”

“What?” Sophie was too flabbergasted to form more than the one-word response.

“I know several very respectful offers have been made to acquire your operation, and you have repeatedly turned them down. So, what is it that you want?”

Slowly, the confusion was being replaced with anger. “Well, Mr. Fulton, if you know those offers were rejected, what makes you think I would change my mind now?”

“Three reasons.” He held up his fingers. “One, I will allow you to set your own terms. Two, you have no choice. Three, to save your business.”

“Let’s go with number two. What do you mean I have no choice?”

He smirked, and Sophie thought his face looked vaguely familiar although she couldn’t quite place it. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a form. “If we cannot settle on terms today, I will file this claim today.” He handed over the papers, and Sophie sat her keys and purse on the counter to accept the papers.

She quickly glanced at them. It was a document stating Fulton Foods was suing a variety of businesses, all of them former Fulton clients that had just signed on with her. “I don’t understand.”

“There is a clause in our contracts that stipulates certain terms. By signing with you, these clients violated those terms. I plan to sue each of them for breach of contract.”

It was all beginning to click into place. By suing those clients, they would have no choice but to abandon her. Considering the debt she’d taken on to buy new equipment and supplies for the business, she would be deeper in the hole than ever. But there was something else, she hadn’t even considered until he spoke again.

“By the time the media gets finished with this story—and I’ll make sure they know about it—the name of your little bakery
will be synonymous with lawsuit,and no one will want to do business with you.” He chuckled. “You’ll be lucky if you can keep your walk-in customers.”

Sophie tossed the papers at his chest. He grabbed them and tucked them neatly back in his jacket pocket.

“You would do this over a handful of contracts?” She gestured to the store. “You just said we could never compete with you, so why do this?”

“Because this bakery is becoming a thorn in my side, young lady. And more importantly, you, personally, are becoming a considerable threat to the future of my business!”

“How could I—”

“Eliot Wright! Know the name?”

She shook her head in confusion.

He twisted his mouth in annoyance. “Maybe not. Your new baker—what’s his name?”

“What business of yours is that?”

“He’s my nephew! That’s what!”

She shook her head in confusion. The man had apparently gone off the deep end. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it? Ask him. Oh, that’s right, you can’t. He’s out of town right now.”

Sophie felt the first butterflies in her stomach. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

During his tirade, Mae and Lonnie had come in the door behind him.

“Sophie? What’s going on?” Mae asked, watching Carl Fulton with concern.

“Just a business matter, Grandma.” Sophie gestured for Carl to follow her, and she headed back to her office.

As they walked back to the office, she could see he was checking out the new equipment and setup. She hated taking him through the store and the kitchen, letting him see the whole of her modest operation, but she needed to complete this conversation. What he was saying was too disturbing to go unchecked.

Once they were in the office, she closed the door. “What does any of this have to do with El?”

“El?” He arched an eyebrow, and the butterflies in her stomach began to go crazy as she instantly recognized that face. “Is that the name he’s using? I guess it makes sense. It was his childhood nickname. But his real name is Eliot Wright, and he is my nephew and my chief financial officer.”

Sophie still didn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it. “Then what is he doing working as a baker in my kitchen?”

Carl smiled. “Proving to me how clever he can be. He originally came here to do exactly what I’m doing today. But someone assumed he was your new baker, and seeing that your new baker was currently unavailable, El decided to take the opportunity to learn what he could about your business.”

“You’re lying!”

“Am I?” he sneered. “Then why do you look as if you are about to cry?”

She quickly looked away.

“And yes, I know you’re sleeping with him.” He shrugged, as if it meant little. “Eliot tells me everything.”

Sophie sat down in her chair, not sure how much longer her legs would support her.

“Before you fall apart on me, let me explain. This situation can be easily rectified.” He patted his jacket pocket. “These papers need never be filed. Your business can have a respectable end.” He opened his arms. “All you have to do is name your terms. I will pay whatever you feel this little place is worth. You will make a tidy profit, and Eliot can come back to his real life.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

Carl sighed heavily. “Oh, good Lord! Are you really this dense?!”

Sophie watched as for the first time since he’d entered the front door of her bakery, his façade of indifference slipped. He cared a lot more about this deal than he was willing to admit.

Summoning all the strength she could, Sophie stood to her feet. “No.”

“What?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Fulton. Although, I appreciate your
generous offer, I must reject it on the premise that you’re full of crap.”

His amber eyes narrowed on her face, and she knew in her gut that at least half of what he’d told her was true. “Think long and hard, young lady. You do notwant to get into a war with me.”

Because she was completely convinced he was right, Sophie said nothing in response. After a few minutes of staring her down, he finally turned and walked out of the office.

From the door of her office, Sophie could see that Wayne and Dante had also come in. Now, they all stood as the stranger stormed through the kitchen and out the front door. Then they all turned and looked at her for answers. She had none.

She gently closed the door and sat down in her chair. Then inspired by hurt, anger and the need for action, stood again and threw open the door.

“Everyone, come into the front, please.” She moved through the kitchen to the front of the store. Once her small group was gathered, she gave a brief overview of what had just happened.

“That was Carl Fulton, the owner of Fulton Foods. He was here to make one last offer to buy the bakery. If we don’t accept, he made it perfectly clear that he plans to destroy us.” She glanced at her grandmother. “Grandma, for so long I thought I was acting on your behalf, but I guess a selfish part of me didn’t want to sell for my own reasons. But if you say sell, I’ll sell.”

Mae’s worn face took on a hard look. “I’d rather burn it to the ground than give it over to him.” Her quiet voice was laced with steel.

Sophie nodded. “All right, then, that’s settled. I don’t know what is about to come our way, but something is. He’s planning to sue his former clients that signed with us. I’m going to call our lawyers to see what our options are. We will continue with business as usual. Agreed?” Getting everyone’s agreement, she nodded and started to return to her office and paused, remembering the hardest part. “There is something else.”

As if they had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, everyone turned their full attention to her.

“Turns out our baker, El, is actually…Carl Fulton’s nephew.”

“What?!” Mae said, clutching her heart.

“Seems he was Fulton’s spy, sent to determine how much of a threat we really were.”

“I knew he was no good!” Wayne hissed.

Lonnie didn’t say a word, but the devastated expression on her face said she understood the implications. Dante put his arm protectively around her, but his facial expression wasn’t any less hurt.

As they all gave their commentary and exchanged information, Sophie drifted back to her office. She didn’t want to hear Wayne talking about how he knew before anyone else, nor did she want to hear her grandmother trying to make excuses for him. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts and her memories.

The last time they were together, she’d told him about the ex who pretended to be a spy, and all the while El really was a spy. She huffed to herself, “His family business really was family business.” She finally put her head down on the desk, and closed her eyes, as the exhaustion of the morning temporarily took her over.

A short while later, Lonnie knocked on the door with her purse. She’d left it on the front counter that morning, and now the cell phone was ringing. She dug out the cell phone and saw the name on the caller ID. Then she turned it off and returned it to the purse.

“Thanks, Lonnie,” she said quietly before putting her head back down on the desk. She did not want to talk to El, or Eliot, or whoever the hell he was. Not now, and probably not ever.