Too Sweet to Be Good

by K. M. Jackson

  He went over and gave his grandmother a hug from behind. The immediate warmth and release of stress he felt when some of the tension in her rigid spine relaxed and she leaned her head back onto his chest made his heart swell. “You know me too well at this point for me to try to fool you, Grandma. Of course, I’m here with an ulterior motive, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you too.”

  She nodded and turned around, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know, sweetie. An ulterior motive or not, I’m still glad to see your lovely face.” But her eyes grew serious as she stared at him more intently. Kellen took a small step back and went around to the other side of the counter.

  “Though I don’t like to see that tiredness around your eyes, Kellen,” his grandmother said. “I can tell that you’re putting in way too many hours in the office, and not enough out in the sun getting fresh air and exercise.”

  “I work out plenty.”

  She gave a small huff. “Playing at being a hamster on somebody’s machine does not take the place of time out in God’s good sunshine and breathing in fresh air. You know that, Kellen. I told you about that many times before. Life is all about balancing it out.”

  Kellen nodded, waving away the pastry his grandmother was offering ironically as she was talking about his health. “No thanks, maybe later. You know how Miss Joyce is. When she saw it was me in the shop this morning, the two biscuits that I had weren’t nearly enough for her liking and she had to go on and add more to my plate. That’s what took me so long to get here.”

  His grandmother nodded. “Well, okay, I guess I forgive you for being so late getting here then, since it was Joyce holding you up. I know there’s no fighting her when she’s determined to feed a person.”

  “True and, like I said, I was trying to let you rest. I didn’t want to come traipsing in here at the crack of dawn and wake you. I know how you are about your beauty rest, Grandma.”

  His grandmother gave a laugh, though it was void of her usual mirth, and Kellen instantly felt a pinch twinge at his own heart. “You wouldn’t have been disturbing me, baby,” she replied. “Seems these past couple weeks I’ve been getting up earlier and earlier.” She let out a small sigh. Then she looked at him and gave a smile once more.

  Kellen could tell that there was no truth behind that smile though. “Or maybe not sleeping much at all?” he asked. “Come on now, Grandma, who are you trying to fool here? You go and get on me about needing rest and look at you. I can’t go having you get sick too. Please don’t do that.” He tried to keep his voice light, but knew the thread of worry still came through.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that, baby. I suppose I just have to get used to sleeping alone.” She gave a laugh sounding more like a little girl than her advanced years. “It’s been many years that I’ve had your grandfather beside me, and to suddenly have him gone, well, that’s what’s expected, I guess. Others say time heals. I suppose time will also have me get used to sleeping in a big old bed without him snoring beside me. Don’t you worry; I’ll be fine and back to my usual sleeping habits. Besides, your grandfather would get a kick out of it. With me getting up so early, I’m getting so much more done, tending his garden, making sure the trash and recycling are done. By the time eleven a.m. comes around, my little to-do list is just about done. And I can finally admit, maybe a little bit too late, there might be something to his early bird and worms thing he always talked about.”

  Kellen smiled. He felt they were quickly getting into some uncomfortable territory that would lead into more uncomfortable territory about the Redheart Theater and the Ronson deal. Kellen watched his grandmother make her tea and sit at the counter across from him, taking delicate bites of her pastry, before she cleared her throat, then looked at him straight on. “Okay, you drove all this way in the middle of the night to make a case that you really don’t need to make, but you’re here, and I know you’re not going to leave without making it, so why don’t you give it to me?” his grandmother said before taking another dainty bite and giving him an arched brow.

  Kellen felt immediately off kilter. If he was in front of a group of CEOs trying to convince them to invest in new space on Mars, he would be more comfortable than he was right now looking at his grandma munching on her pastry with her mind already made up that she was not handing over the Redheart. Why did he even come? He should have saved himself the gas and the annoyance. Besides, he’d already used all his best tactics on her. He’d begged, pleaded, and even tried cajoling, and still she wasn’t having it. Oh well, he was here now and he needed to think of a better plan and quick.

  “Listen,” he said, “how about you tell me what you’re thinking for the theater, Grandma. Why is it that you want so badly to hold on to it when you’re open to giving up other pieces of property?” He made his voice gentle, not really wanting to approach this, but he knew he had to. “Is it because of your weekly date nights with Grandpa? If that’s the case, then I totally can understand it. With Grandpa’s death, I know it sounds harsh, but those nights are a thing of the past. Why would you hold on to the theater just for that? You have the memories. Aren’t they precious enough? The Redheart itself is nothing more than a drain on expenses at this point. Sentimentality is not a reason to lose out on a potentially huge deal.”

  Kellen swallowed. Or maybe it was a gulp. Either way, he wished he could take back that last sentence, as he saw the tiniest hint of a tremor at the top of his grandmother’s lip. He really was a jerk at times. A cold, heartless jerk, just as he’d been called by so many over the years. But in his gut he felt it was for the best, letting the Redheart go and creating a more stable future for Kilborn Properties and a safer environment for his grandmother.

  He watched apprehensively as his grandmother let out a long breath, took another bite of her pastry, chewed it slowly, then swallowed. She followed by taking a sip of her tea. He could tell she was trying her best to hold on to her temper. This was the grandmother he’d seen many times before, when she was dealing with the women of the auxiliary and one of them had gone a bit too far with their sweet Southern charm, the type with a cutting edge to it. If she pulled out a “bless your heart”—which meant anything but—he might as well get back in his car and onto the highway. Kellen braced himself.

  “Sentimentality or not, Kellen, the theater is more than just the place your grandfather and I went on date nights. It’s also much more than just a passing whimsy for me as you seem to have suggested more times than I’ve been comfortable with,” she said, her voice deadly serious and way more businesslike and no nonsense than he was prepared to hear. “Though you’re completely gung ho on this Ronson deal and believe that I’m open to selling other properties to them, I’m not as open as you may think. I’m just being, how should I say, amenable to my grandson’s ideas because I believe in you and I believe in your business sense.” She paused then. And it was filled with enough weight to bring down an elephant before she continued. “The Ronsons, bless their hearts—” Kellen sucked in a breath. Well, that one wasn’t totally shot his way, he thought as she continued. “—are fine as a family and RPG is a good enough company. At least they see the value in our idyllic little lake area, which is more than I can say for you.” She let out a slow breath, and Kellen was tempted to duck out of the way just in case he’d get burned from the fire of it.

  “But,” she continued, “I’m not all that thrilled with any company overdeveloping Sugar Lake. I’m not sure they have the same vision as we do. And if their feelings about building and culture don’t line up with us, then they’re not the people for us to do business with. Now, if we can come up with a way to manage the Ronsons, then I’ll entertain it and include my properties. What I’m not entertaining is putting my theater up as a bargaining chip.”

  Kellen started to feel more than dread then. Oh crap. Clearly even Miss Joyce’s sweet magic wasn’t working this morning. This trip was more of a disaster than he’d feared it would be. With one chat Kellen now knew he could be destroy
ing not just the Redheart part of the deal, but even the other properties in the process.

  “Now, wait a minute, Grandma. Sounds to me like you might even possibly be taking the other properties out of the deal with Ronson. What happened in the span of our conversation yesterday and this morning?”

  His grandmother smiled. “I’m not saying that anything happened; I’m just saying that I’ve had a good think over the evening, and maybe did some digging on my own into Ronson and their business dealings, particularly Jamina Ronson. By the way, you both looked lovely at the dinner you had together the other night.”

  Kellen’s brows flew up and he gave his grandmother a surprised look. So she saw that picture of him and Jamina Ronson together. The one that had made its rounds on the ATL blog scene and on Instagram. Kellen should have known that his grandmother would follow local Atlanta Internet gossip. She was an original fan of The Real Housewives. But it would seem that his grandmother did more while she was up last night than a little quick looking into the Ronson Group. She did some downright digging. He let out a sigh. “Grandma, our dinner is not worth mentioning, besides being nothing more than a productive business dinner and a good move.”

  His grandmother laughed then. “Oh, it looked like moves were being made. On her part at least. I just want to make sure your head stays clear and your priorities are straight.”

  Kellen frowned. “My priorities are always straight. You know that.”

  His grandmother shook her head, then sighed. “That I do.” She waved her hand in front of her face and like a new person perked instantly. “But that’s neither here nor there. Let me show you my plans for the Redheart.” She turned and walked over to the small breakfast nook.

  Wait. What? Plans?

  Kellen’s brows were knit tight as his grandmother laid out architectural plans on the island with a flourish. He blinked as he looked over what appeared to be extensive redesign plans for the Redheart. The façade was pretty much unchanged, but the inside was definitely updated, much more than the little his grandparents had done in past years. What? When? How could she have gotten all this done so quickly and without a word from him?

  She looked over at him with a sly smile. “They’re pretty fantastic, huh? I shocked you, didn’t I? Well, we shocked you.”

  “We? What do you mean we?”

  She laughed. “I mean your grandfather and I.”

  Kellen frowned. That did it. This trip wasn’t for nothing and he was here just in time. His grandmother was going over the edge.

  “Oh, fix your face, Kellen. It’s not like I’m losing my faculties, despite the way you’re treating me. This is something that your grandfather and I had in the works before his passing. These plans were done up last year by Archer Jove.”

  “Archer Jove? You mean Prichard Jove’s son? What’s he doing drawing up plans and why didn’t I know anything about it?”

  His grandmother shook her head. “Like you had to know everything or ever took any interest in the Redheart. And yes, Archer Jove. You know your grandfather and I love seeing young folks doing big things and when he set up his shingle for his architecture firm, we were more than happy to have him do a little something for us. We’d always planned to fix up the Redheart properly. We just didn’t know there was a time limit on our plans.” His grandmother’s voice broke ever so slightly then, pitching lower and taking his spirit with it.

  Kellen leaned in to give the plans a better look. That was the least he could do, though even from far back he could see this job was way too much for his grandmother to take on by herself. He saw that the concession stand would be updated and there would be a small game room off to the side with what looked to be vintage pinball machines and 80s style video games. There was also what looked to be an area with a couple of small party rooms; his grandmother explained to him that those were for arts and crafts for kids and community gatherings. And then the biggest surprise came when he saw off to the side and around the back of the theater there were plans for a small outside viewing stage. What? Were they now trying Shakespeare in the Park? Not to mention she even pulled out another set of plans that had a remodel of the theater’s dilapidated balcony area. Kellen could see the money practically blowing out the window.

  “Grandma, what in the world do you have going here? This renovation will cost an astronomical amount of money. We’re looking to make money right now on the sale, not send money out the window. This is beautiful, but with everyone going to the multiplex, we couldn’t even begin to make the money back to cover the cost of this renovation. We don’t have a food court or a big box superstore or any of that.”

  “And you just made my case right there,” she said. “Maybe people don’t want to always go to the mall with all that. Maybe there are some folks who want the quaint charm and more laid-back experience. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a real night at the theater again?” His grandmother’s eyes got slightly dreamy. “Why must everything always be modern and new to be good? The latest is not always the greatest.”

  Kellen shook his head. She really was holding tight to the past and, though a part of Kellen could see her vision, he couldn’t get past the financial concerns he had. “Grandma, what you are talking about here will not just hold us back, it just may sink us.”

  For an answer, all Kellen got was a pat on his cheek as his grandmother gave him a smile. “Oh my, I don’t know if you get your flair for drama from me and if I should be proud or not.” She shrugged. “I think these plans are fabulous, and look,” she said, pulling out some rough sketches that had more color, showing an old-meets-new Hollywood theme for the theater. “My Alex did a great job with these designs and only from brief visits to the theater and short conversations with me about what I wanted. It’s genius!”

  Kellen wanted to give a growl. Once again, it was Alex. And once again, he couldn’t wait to meet this Alex face to face and give him a piece of his mind. A part of him wanted to even give a piece of his fist, but he knew that was uncalled for. Alex and now Archer were both sprung on him in the past twenty-four hours. Kellen didn’t think he could take much more. “Alex, Archer? My, you are just full of surprises. Huh, Grandma?” He looked down at the sketches with the high-priced lighting, large plants, and expensive-looking draperies. “I can’t wait to meet this Alex of yours, so free with the designs and plans on someone else’s dime. Tell me, did you let Alex know any sort of budgeting when these plans were drawn up?”

  She looked slightly confused for a moment, then she waved her hand and shook her head. “It’s not how Alex and I work, dear. We work more freely than that. It’s quite collaborative, organic and lovely.”

  Kellen suddenly wanted to scream. Collaborative? Organic? Lovely? All words that didn’t belong anywhere near his business dealings.

  “You’ll see what I mean when you two meet.”

  “Yeah, I can’t wait,” Kellen replied dryly.

  To that his grandmother gave him a perplexed look. She cocked her head to the side. “I guess you can meet formally over at the theater this afternoon. We are meeting at one. You want to go on ahead and get a quick shower and get cleaned up, then head on over? Alex has a key so should be there by the time you arrive. It’s funny, I thought you would’ve met at Goode ’N Sweet this morning. Alex is there pretty much most mornings right at opening.”

  Kellen thought of all the patrons who had come in while he was in Goode ’N Sweet. He hadn’t run into anyone who sounded like Mr. Collaborative, Take a Sweet Old Lady for Her Money Charlatan that his grandmother had referred to. And he was glad that he hadn’t. If he had run into anyone called Alex and found out it was him on no sleep and no coffee, it would not have been good. “No, I didn’t, and it was probably for the best. You know how I am without my morning coffee—like you are when you haven’t had your proper sleep.”

  “Whatever you say, dear,” his grandmother said as Kellen headed up the stairs to his old room to shower, change, and head back to town and once and for all meet this Al
ex. This was it. He’d put a stop to what was going on with the Redheart Theater today.

  Chapter 5

  Serendipity

  Drea fiddled with the keys Mrs. Betty had given her and looked down at her cell phone. Where was she? She thought for sure Mrs. Betty would be here by now. Though she’d left the bakery in plenty of time after being surprisingly dismissed early by her aunt, she still ended up getting to the Redheart only just in time, her mind making her body go slower than she liked as it kept wandering back to the Suit with the glasses who took up so much of her morning.

  What an odd guy he was. Cool though slightly awkward and reserved. He acted like he belonged in Sugar Lake, and Aunt Joyce knew him and treated him like an old friend, though clearly, he was not of Sugar Lake. Who was he? And really, why should she care? He was probably, just like she guessed, another suit. Looking to scam someone. A good-looking one at that, which was the most dangerous kind. But there was something about his all-seeing, pretty, green-flecked, and still-somewhat-devilish eyes that had her mesmerized. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he was nudging at the corner of her mind in the most uncomfortable way, and she hated being uncomfortable.