Sugar Rush (15 page)

Chapter 23

Almost two hours after Carl Fulton left the store, Sophie was still sitting at her desk, shell-shocked. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be true. El was…El. Her baker, her lover. There was no way the man she loved could be the nephew of her enemy.

Wayne knocked on the door, and she looked up. “You okay?”

She nodded, wishing she’d locked the door.

“Sophie…I wanted to tell you something, but I don’t know if I should.”

She tried to focus her scrambled mind on what Wayne was saying. “What is it?”

“I have a friend who’s a busboy at Catalan’s.”

Her eyes narrowed on his face. “How convenient.”

Wayne sighed. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” He started to turn away.

“Wait, Wayne. What did you busboy friend say?”

He turned back to her. “He said the man we know as El didn’t sound like their guy. And something else is weird—they called him Al, not El. It’s a little thing, but I thought you should know.” He turned and left the office.

Sophie watched his retreating back as he moved through the office. Wayne had never liked El, so she was not surprised that he would be eager to reinforce what Carl had said. But what if there was some truth to it? Wayne might be on to something.

Catalan’s. That’s where the answers were. She grabbed her keys and purse and headed toward the front door.

“Sophie?” Mae called to her.

She paused before heading out the door. “Grandma, I’m going to be out of the office for a few days. I just—I just need some time.” She walked out of the store and climbed into her car.

She’d planned to drive home, make a reservation and then catch a plane to Houston. Instead, she just kept driving, and driving and driving. Stopping only for gas and food. She arrived in Houston close to six that night.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the five-star restaurant, she considered for the first time what she must look like dressed in her wrinkled jeans and a T-shirt. She’d just driven in these clothes for ten hours. She definitely did not look like a patron of the swanky restaurant. So she pulled out of the lot, and parked about a block away.

She’d come too far to leave without having her questions answered. She walked around to the back entrance and waited for one of the employees to come out. She waited about twenty minutes before the door opened and a waitress stepped out.

“Excuse me?” She cautiously approached the young woman. “I’m looking for Alberto Montagna. Do you know him?”

The lady nodded. “But he doesn’t work here anymore. Got fired awhile ago.”

Sophie fished in her purse for her wallet. “Can you tell me if this man is Alberto Montanga?” She held up a picture of her and El together, the one they’d taken at the restaurant in Memphis. She’d had it reduced to fit in her wallet.

The young woman looked at the picture, then back at Sophie’s tired face. “Look, I don’t want to get involved.” She started to walk away.

“Please,” Sophie called, hating that her voice was cracking, hating that the tears were forming. “Please, you have no idea how
important this is.” She sniffed, and held up the picture once more. “Just look at this, please.”

The woman glanced at the picture, and then did a quick double take. She shook her head. “No, that’s not Alberto.” The waitress smiled at Sophie, obviously believing her answer was the one she wanted, but once she saw the tears begin to slide down her cheeks, she turned and quickly walked away.

Sophie slowly walked back to her car, climbed into the driver’s seat, put on her seat belt and just sat there. Holding the small picture between both hands, she stared at the face of the man who’d claimed to be Alberto Montagna for over two months. The man who in fact worked for her competitor, was related to her competitor. The man who’d come to her store for the sole purpose of destroying her. Her lover was a complete stranger, and that realization was both heart-wrenching and terrifying at the same time.

About an hour later, she started the engine and began the long drive back to Selmer. She was exhausted in both mind and body, and she considered pulling in somewhere for the night several times, but she pushed on. By the time she pulled up in front of her home just before sunrise, she felt like a broken windup doll, all cried out and numb.

It was too early to call anyone, and she considered leaving a message on her grandmother’s cell, but who knew where it was? Then still fully dressed, she crawled into her bed and fell into a deep, fortifying sleep. When she awoke later, it was dusk.

Too humiliated to face anyone, Sophie waited until the store closed for the evening, and then she used her key to let herself inside. For reasons she would not think about, she wanted to sleep in the first bed she shared with El, so she went straight to the back room and curled up in the middle of the twin bed.

Lying there, she replayed all the times they’d shared in this tiny room. All the things they’d told each other. She’d bared her soul, and he’d fed her a line of bull. And she’d fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

She tried to convince herself that everyone made mistakes, and that El was just a mistake she’d made. Problem was, he didn’t feel like a mistake. Even now. Even though she felt deeply
betrayed and devastated by what she’d learned, it was still hard to regret her time with him.

The next morning, when everyone started coming in, they were all surprised to see Sophie coming out of the back apartment dressed and ready to start the day. No one asked why she was there and she was grateful for that.

She threw herself into the work, spending most of the morning paying bills and talking on the phone with the store’s lawyers. They were as vague as ever, and by the time she hung up Sophie was still unsure if Carl Fulton’s claim would stand up in court, or if it was all just bluster to scare her. She did know the anger she’d seen in his eyes was real, and if he could not crush her through legal means, then he would find other ways to destroy her.

After Eliot stepped off the plane in Memphis, he called Kara to get an update on what had happened at his office over the last couple of days. By the time he reached his car, he was fuming.

Kara explained what she knew through office gossip and that was scary enough, but after talking to Steve and getting the full picture, El was terrified. Damn that old man!

He headed into town to confront Carl but then turned in the direction of Selmer. He needed to see Sophie’s face, see what she knew, know what she was thinking.

He cursed himself for all the opportunities he’d had to tell her the truth and had held back instead. He could only imagine what Carl had said to her. He drove like a maniac, as if reaching her faster could somehow reduce any damage that had already been done.

Forty-five minutes later, he pulled up in front of the bakery and took a deep breath. It looked the same, at least from the outside. But what was he expecting? Some kind of apocalyptic evidence that his world had been destroyed?

He walked to the door and could see Mae behind the counter, but the sun’s reflection on the glass window made it impossible to make out her facial expression. As he opened the door, he wished he’d stayed in the car.

The look on the older woman’s face was like a punch in his
gut. He could only imagine what Sophie must be thinking. Slowly, he approached the counter. “Mama Mae, is Sophie here?”

She nodded, still looking at him with distrust and distain.

He turned toward the kitchen and paused. “I know what you must think of me, and I probably deserve it, but I love Sophie.” He turned to look at her. “My love for her is real.”

She stared at him for a long time, and then turned her back and began wiping down the counters. With slumped shoulders and a heavy heart, Eliot started toward the kitchen.

A moment later, he stood at the end of the hall, grateful that Sophie was alone in the kitchen. His beautiful Sophie. Her back was to him as she swept up the floor. Carefully, slowly, he moved across the floor to her, and when he was only a few inches behind her she spun around.

Eliot knew that until the day he died, he would never forget the look of hate he saw reflected in her eyes. Eyes that normally only looked at him with love. He wanted to touch her, to try to explain. But that look said that he’d already been tried, found guilty and sentenced to a life without her love. But he couldn’t give up that easily. Not after everything they’d come to mean to each other.

She placed the broom against a wall, walked right up to him, and Eliot held his breath, hoping, praying. Then she reached out and, with all the strength she could muster, slapped him hard across the face.

Chapter 24

“Baby, what can I say to you?” Eliot rubbed his stinging cheek, willing to take ten more blows if it would make her listen. “Tell me what I have to say to make this right.”

Sophie stood glaring at him, the anger and hurt causing her whole body to tremble. The pure fury he saw in her eyes was unlike anything he’d ever imagined seeing there when she looked at him before. She loved him, or so she’d said. But that was yesterday, and it was a different man she loved. The man she thought he was.

“Tell me what to do. I can’t lose you.”

“Get out,” she hissed between closed teeth.

“Sophie, please—”

“Get out! Get out of my store! Get out of my life! Get out!” She’d extended her arm toward the front hall, and even now Eliot could see the angry vibrations coursing through her slender frame.

What was left? He stood in place, hoping for some sudden inspiration. Some miracle. But none came. Finally, he turned and headed toward the front of the building.

At the entrance leading to the front of the store he stopped and
turned. “I lied to you, and you will never have any idea how sorry I am for that. You can believe what you want; I know you will anyway. But what I feel for you, what we feel for each other, it’s real, Sophie. As real as it will ever get. I love you, and I know you love me. Please, baby…please don’t throw that away in anger.”

He turned and headed out of the shop. He climbed into his car and pulled out of the parking lot. He headed toward Memphis with murder on his mind. Uncle Carl had been meddling in his life from the moment he had come to live with him. But this time the old man had gone too far. This time, he would pay for his interference and for the look of pain and hurt in Sophie’s eyes—oh, yes, he would pay for that, too.

His cell phone rung, and he clicked on the headset. “What?”

“Eliot, it’s me, Steve.”

“Not a good time, Steve.”

Steve sighed heavily. “I’m too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“I wanted to warn you about Carl.”

“Then, yeah, you’re too late.”

“Eliot, I know I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the old man plans to cut you out of his will.”

“Carl Fulton’s fortune is the least of my concerns right now. I swear, Steve, I want to kill that son of a bitch.”

“No, my friend, you don’t kill men like Carlton with guns and knives. You want to get him where it hurts, in the wallet,” the lawyer said.

“Then find me a weapon, Steve. Because one way or another, he’s done.” With that he turned off the phone and concentrated on driving. His mind drifted back to that morning. Waking up with Sophie curled against his side. The idea of never experiencing that again was unbearable.

All his adult life, Eliot thought he’d pushed down and conquered that lonely little boy he’d been when he arrived on his uncle’s doorstep. But working at Mayfield had brought it all back. The feeling of family, the sense of belonging, the want, the need. They’d given him something he didn’t even realize he was missing.

There was no way he could go back to the cold, empty exis
tence he’d known before. That place was for the dead, and Sophie had brought him to life. She’d pumped her lifeblood into his heart. She was a permanent part of him now, nothing else would be acceptable.

Carl stood staring out the window of his office suite, and he felt the air shift around him. Eliot was coming.

Now that he’d cooled off, Carl could not understand what had possessed him to do what he did. It was like a compulsion. All he could think about was Eliot choosing his competition over him. It was betrayal. But now, considering the wheels he’d put in motion, he realized he’d overreacted. The problem with over-reactions was that you couldn’t undo them. He’d put his nephew, his heir, in a position where he had to chose between him and the woman he loved.

He ran his hand over his face, suddenly feeling every one of his sixty-four years. Despite all his bluster, he knew there was no way he could cut Eliot out of his fortune. He’d nurtured and cultivated the boy all his life to take over the reins of Fulton Foods, and until recently Carl had been certain it had been the right decision. Eliot had shown himself worthy of his legacy in every way. But then again, Carl had never seen his nephew in love, and he knew from personal experience that that could change everything.

He listened as his door opened softly, but he never turned from the window. He’d expected a hurricane to come rushing through the office, but what had shown up instead was a quiet storm. Those were often the deadliest, he thought.

He took a deep breath and tried to defend himself. “I did it for your own good.”

“As if you give a damn about anyone’s needs but your own.”

Slowly Carl turned to face his nephew and was startled by the broken man who stood in the doorway. “Your place is here.”

Eliot laughed. Not a forced chuckle, but a pure, deep-throated laugh, and Carl began to wonder as to his mental state.

“You’re kidding, right?” he finally managed to say through the laughter. “When has my place ever been here? You spent the
majority of my youth making sure I understood that I was only hereat your discretion. All my life, you’ve made me feel like a charity case, and that I owed you.” The laughter had stopped, and now Eliot’s voice had hardened. “And I paid you back, old man—I paid you back in sweat and tears! So don’t you dare stand there and try to make me believe I ever had a place here.”

Carl folded his arms across his chest and glared at his nephew. “Well, I can see there can be no reasoning with you,” he said as he watched his nephew shake his head in dismay, and turn away with slumped shoulders. Then Eliot headed back out of the office, but he paused.

“You know…I had every intention of killing you, you evil-hearted monster. But the more I think about it, the more I realize living with yourself may be punishment enough.” He started to walk away.

“Eliot!” Carl called out, and Eliot stopped. “What do you plan to do?”

Eliot glanced back over his shoulder and Carl saw the first sign of fire in his eyes. “I’m going to do what you trained me to do, Uncle Carl. I’m going to destroy my competition.” With that he turned and walked out of Fulton Foods for the last time.

Three hours after Eliot had left the store, Sophie was working on the computer, looking over the books and trying to find a way to salvage the business. Mae came into the room with a sandwich plate and a can of soda pop. “I fixed you a sandwich,” the older woman said.

“Thanks, Grandma, but I’m not hungry.” Sophie shifted toward the computer screen so her grandmother couldn’t see her red, swollen eyes.

“You haven’t eaten all day. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“Really, I’m okay,” she said, and continued reviewing the ledger.

“Sophie…” Mae pulled up a chair and sat beside her granddaughter. “Sophie, look at me.”

Sophie quickly wiped at her eyes. “I’d rather not, Grandma.”

Using her sternest voice, Mae sat up straight. “That wasn’t a request, young lady.”

Slowly, Sophie shifted in her seat to face her grandmother, and felt even worse as Mae’s stern expression crumpled.

“Oh, my little baby.” Sophie allowed herself to be pulled into the older woman’s fragile arms. And as much as she tried to fight it back, the flow of tears went from a drizzle to a downpour of anguish.

“How could he do this to me?” she cried into her grandmother’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist. So many times she’d found comfort in these arms, but not this time. Nothing could comfort her this time.

“Shh, it’s okay, little one.” Mae stroked her hair, just as she’d done when she was a little girl. “It will be okay.”

“No, it won’t.” Sophie sniffed loudly before pulling back out of Mae’s warm arms. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I fell for all his lies so easily. I never asked any questions.” Reaching across the desk, she took a tissue from the box. “I had no business trying to go up against a big company like Fulton Foods. If I hadn’t bid on their contracts, he would’ve never come here!”

Taking her face between her hands, Mae turned Sophie to face her. “Exactly. He would’ve never come here.” Looking deep into her granddaughter’s eyes, she asked, “Is that really what you would’ve wanted, Sophie—to never have met him?”

Sophie shook her head. “No. What I would’ve wanted was for him to be the arrogant, womanizing baker he was supposed to be.”

“Oh, yes, I can see how that would’ve been an improvement,” Mae said and laughed.

Sophie chuckled, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. But it was the truth. Because if he’d been that person, she could’ve forgiven him. But there was no way she could forgive him for this. There was no way they could go on from here. He’d allowed his uncle to sever the bridge tying them together, and that was what made her most angry. That he’d given them no way to be together. She wiped at her watery eyes again.

Damn him!

Sighing loudly, she turned back to the computer. “Well, I’ve been looking at the books, and we are going to have to let Wayne and Dante go,” she said sadly. She swallowed over the lump in
her chest, and continued. “Lonnie never really collected a salary, so she can just continue as she has been.” She scrolled down the page. “We can get rid of the delivery van, and sell some of the new equipment. That should be enough to hold—”

“I’ll work for free.” Wayne spoke from the doorway.

Sophie jumped, startled to see him there. “Wayne, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask me.”

“But you have bills to pay just like the rest of us.”

He nodded. “I’ll survive.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed on his face, as a troubling thought passed through her mind.

“Not like that!” he snapped, as if reading her thoughts. “I have some money put away. It will hold me over until we get back up on our feet.”

Sophie twisted her lips. “And what if we never get back up on our feet?”

He shrugged it off. “Then we don’t. Either way, I’m here till the end.”

Sophie glanced at her grandmother, remembering what she’d been told. “Grandma, can you give us a few minutes alone.”

Mae nodded and stood. As she passed Wayne in the doorway, she reached out and squeezed his arm gently. He covered her hand, smiling down into her eyes.

Sophie knew that when the word familywas used, most people automatically thought of blood relations. But she knew that a family could also be formed through common experiences and shared hardships. They were a family: a mentally challenged girl and the boy who loved her, an ex-con with a heart of gold, an elderly woman with a spine of pure steel and her. In all the ways that mattered, they were a family. And for a time, a sexy baker with secret, malicious intentions was also a part of that family.

But, try as she might, Sophie knew that was not all there was to Eliot. It was true she was instantly charmed by his handsome face and easy demeanor. But deep inside, she knew her heart was not so big a fool it would’ve made that enough. No, there was depth and soul to him. When he held her in his arms, when he
spoke of his life with his parents and his dreams for his future, when he made love to her, the truth of him was revealed in those moments. And even now, her whole being craved that part of him, and would forever.

As Mae walked out of the office, Wayne closed the door behind her, and leaned his back against it. “Say it.”

Sophie was startled by the bluntness in his voice, he was obviously expecting something. “Say what?”

“Say that you don’t love me.” He gestured to the tiny office. “That is why you needed this moment alone with me, right? To clear up any misconceptions I may have about your feelings for me?”

Okay, she thought, that’s spooky intuitive. “Wayne, I do love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

“I know that, Sophie. I’m not staying because I think something is going to happen between us,” he said and he huffed loudly. “Look at you. In here crying your heart out over that jackass. How the hell could any man expect you to—” He shook his head. “Look, I’m not much for bullshit and you know it. So, I’m just going to say it like it is.” He stood straight. “He doesn’t deserve you. Not even. But for whatever reason, you love him, and I think you loved him almost instantly. From the day you came home from the hospital you took one look at him and I felt my heart break. Because in all the years I’ve known you, you never once looked at me like that. But it’s cool.” He sighed in resignation. “I let go of that dream a long time ago.”

She stood to face him. “They why are you staying?”

“Because I owe you. You took a chance on me when no one else would. And never once did you or Mama Mae make me feel like an ex-con. Out there—” he gestured toward the wall “—my past is with me every day.” He lifted his arms, revealing the prison tats that lined both forearms. “Anyone who recognizes these knows where I came from, and they treat me like I still belong there. You don’t.”

He moved across the room until he was standing directly in front of her. “When I walk in that front door every morning, I feel like a man. Just a man coming to do a job. You can’t know how good that feels.”