The following morning I made coffee in my thrifty-nifty, two-cup machine, and while I waited for it to finish its job, I called.
Harrison answered right away. “Candy. I got your message last night. I was glad to hear from you.”
I got a tingly feeling hearing the rich timber of his voice.
“It was late, Har, so I didn’t call.” I quickly told him about the Neighborhood Watch and how the girls and I had spent our day. I also told him Jake’s big surprise.
“You were out with Jake all night?”
I could hear the suspicion in his voice, which perked me right up. Who needed caffeine when a little taste of jealousy would do? “Why, yes. And with the girls.”
He made an exasperated sound. “So Jake’s got a lot of money, does he? Why did he let you arrange bail, that being the case?”
“I have no idea. I’ll have to ask him that when I see him.” A thought occurred to me. “Maybe he’s broke. His family has money, but that doesn’t mean he does. He never talks about his mother, or anyone else. Maybe they had a falling out.”
“Then how could he afford the splashy limousine? And why would he take you to her restaurant?” Harrison demanded.
“Good question. I’ll ask him that too,” I said brightly. I just loved irritating him so. Maybe that’s why I’m still single—I have a niggling urge to rattle people—men in particular.
“Can we not talk about Jake?” Harrison growled.
“Sure. But just one more thing, and then not another word. I promise.”
“What now?”
“I just wanted to say that Jake is coming over here later and will be helping us hand out fliers and anything else we need him to do. Isn’t that nice?” I said sweetly.
“Very nice,” he said dryly. “Tell him I said “hello,” won’t you?”
“Sure. Anything besides, “hello?” No?” I smelled the coffee, and tried to grab a cup and pour with one hand. Splashed some on the counter and my hand. “Damn!” I muttered. “Spilled my coffee.” I probably deserved it for teasing Harrison so relentlessly.
“Take your time. Pour another one.”
“It’s okay. I will in a minute.” I swiped at the mess with a paper towel, smearing the counter rather than cleaning it. “So, I guess if you’re the lead on a murder trial, you’ll be flat-out busy for awhile. No more trips to Florida, right?”
“I might be able to squeeze in a weekend or two over the next month.”
“Naw.” Okay, so maybe I was doing my typical self-sabotage. I said, “You’ll be busy. Gotta save some guy’s life.”
“Woman. A young woman killed some guy that was supposedly beating her. She had a restriction order against him, but he was found dead in his own apartment. She went after him with a butcher knife while he was sleeping.”
I felt my brows hike in surprise. “Oh my! Guess that does make her guilty, even if the creep deserved what he got.”
“My job is to prove she’s a cold-blooded murderer.” His voice dropped as if he were letting me in on a secret. “But I’m telling you, that if it were my daughter or my wife, I’d want her to kill the son-of-a-bitch too.”
“Then why aren’t you defending her, instead of prosecuting?”
“She has a defense team, and if they do their job properly, they will prove me wrong. Remember, in our justice system a person’s innocent until proven guilty. The onus will be on me to prove it wasn’t self defense—that she went to his house and murdered him while he slept.”
“Crap.” I jammed my thumbnail to my lower lip and gave it a tap. I’d hate to be in his shoes. If I was imagining Katie in that position, he had to have been up all night. “That sucks. I’d probably want to see her walk away free. Big bully, had no right beating her and stalking her.”
“I know. I can’t allow my personal feelings to interfere with the legal process. She deserves the best legal defense her attorneys can give her. The burden of proof is on me.” He cleared his throat. “But enough about that. I’m glad to hear that you’re organizing this Neighborhood Watch. I feel better knowing that the police will be involved. These racketeers will hopefully back off.”
I felt a dark cloud take up residence in my kitchen. “I hope you’re right.”
Harrison paused. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Like today.” He spoke warmly. “Katie called me to say that she really enjoyed your dinner last night, and likes you a lot.”
Pleased, I leaned against the counter. “Wow. That’s nice. I like her too.”
“So,” he said slowly, “once you get a handle on things and the Candy Bar is back up and running, maybe you could come visit me here in Boston. I’d love to take you sailing.”
Oh, the thought of that made my insides ache. It sounded so wonderful, and yet so impossible that tears came into my eyes.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“You know why. There are just too many problems. Too many things keeping us apart.” Katie, Billy, his thriving business, my lack of one.
“Yeah, well one of them can be solved with an airplane ride.”
Chuckling, I said, “Distance is one of the smaller reasons on the list.”
“Look,” he said in a brisk tone. I imagined him clearing his desk for the next phone call. “Let’s shelve this discussion for now. You have things to do, and so do I. But this is not over between us. Not by a long shot.”
“Well, we will see about that. But as you say, we both have more important issues to worry about.” I sucked in a quick, painful breath, knowing it was time to cut him free. “You take care of yourself, Har. I’m going to miss you.”
“Back at you. You need protection right now, and I wish I could be at your side—not Jake,” he added with a touch of bitterness.
“Jake’s a friend. A really wonderful, handsome, close friend,” I added with a teasing laugh, “and rich.”
“If I were there right now, I’d take you over my knee and spank you like that guy did in that best-selling book.”
“Whoa,” I said, my interest piqued. “Harrison—how do you know about that?”
“Every girl in the office was talking about it. How could I not hear?”
“Well, there’ll be no spanking for me.” I smiled. “Bye, Harrison. Save the girl—don’t send her down the river or whatever you do.”
“People can’t take the law into their own hands,” he said sternly. “Remember that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a crusader for justice, and if a thug wants to come after me, he’ll get what’s coming.” I took up a fighter stance, and practiced a boxer’s move.
“This isn’t a joke, Candy. You leave these fellows to the law enforcement. I love that you’re involved, but there are rules for a reason.”
“I hear you. I was only mouthing off. Don’t worry about me, okay? You have enough problems.”
“I’ll call you again in a few days. Stay safe, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Oh, that’s a nice thing to say.” I got another paper towel and swiped at the drying mess. Talking to Harrison was getting me agitated. I wanted him with me, dammit!
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah. That I’m stupid.” Wipe, wipe, gone. If only my love-life were so simple.
“Candy…”
“Good-bye, Harrison.” I hung up, and poured my first full cup of coffee. Now I really needed the caffeine.
For the rest of the morning I felt unsettled, wishing I hadn’t had that ridiculous conversation with Harrison. As much as I pretended otherwise, I’d allowed him to get under my skin, and worm his way into my heart.
Why do I always fall for the men I can’t have—especially when I have someone like Jake close by, and confessing that he’s always had a thing for me?
Instead, I’m panting after a guy that lives hundreds of miles away, has a career that he can’t possibly leave, and likes me well enough in bed, but knows we don’t have a future together. Heck, my own son has forbid
den me to see him.
Meanwhile, Jake is available, interested, sweet, honest, and physically top dollar. Hell, if I decided that he was the one for me, I’d be the luckiest woman on earth.
Maybe—for once in my life—I could allow myself to love a man who would be good for me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It seemed as if my thought conjured Jake up because it was only a mere ten minutes later that he knocked on my door.
I quickly sprayed on some delicate, expensive perfume, ran a brush through my hair, and touched my lips with a pink gloss. After all, I’m not a complete moron, and I know that I’m tired of being alone. I wanted and deserved a wonderful man in my life. If Harrison can’t be that man, then the least I could do was open myself to the possibility that Jake might fit the bill.
“Hey,” I said, opening the door to let him enter. “Come on in. I’ve been talking to the girls and they’re going to join us at the Candy Bar in half an hour.”
“Fine. We’re going to canvass the neighborhood for more participants, right? Hand out fliers, place them in store windows, that kind of thing?”
“You got it. Thirty or so have signed up so far, but we’re going to need a lot more than that to make an impact and get the police to take notice.” I smiled at Jake—not a difficult chore. “And you, my dear friend, will use your considerable charm and convince people that we can make a difference and get crime off our street.”
“You got it,” he said with an agreeable smile.
I took his arm and pulled him into the room. “Want some coffee?”
He nodded and followed me into the kitchen. “Black.”
I poured it and refilled mine.
He took a sip, and then another. “Good coffee.”
“I also make good toast,” I said with a grin.
“Is that an offer?”
“You hungry? I could add bacon and eggs to that.”
“Naw. I had a big bowl of Cheerios.” He sipped again. “So, back to this nasty business at hand.” He leaned against the counter, and crossed his ankles. “It just irks me that they think they can bully us into submission. And this false accusation about me peddling drugs…well, they’re stepping on the wrong guy.”
“Exactly. This is our street. It belongs to us and we’re taking it back.”
“I like that line. Mind if I use it?”
“Of course not.” I stepped away from the kitchen and opened up the patio doors. “Come. Let’s sit down and enjoy our coffee. We have a few minutes before we have to leave.”
He followed me out and I settled into one of the cushioned wicker chairs, and put the coffee cup on a small table.
“You know something? I don’t think we’ve ever really had a private conversation. Every exchange we’ve ever made is either at the bar, or about the bar, and usually surrounded by a horde of people. I’d like to get to know you, Jake.”
His bright blue eyes looked hopeful. “Good. I’m an open book.” Instead of sitting, he leaned his arms over the railing and looked out at the beach. It was a warm day, and as always sunbathers were catching a few rays, kayakers and surfers were riding the waves, and walkers strolled along the beach.
I’ve always loved the activity outside my door, and the peace and serenity of the lapping waves and excellent view. Jake, standing at the rail, only enhanced the beauty.
He took it all in, then turned his head and gave me a long look. “You have a great place here. Is this where you raised Billy?”
“For the most part. We moved here about a year after you started working at the bar. Once we had a nice profit going—thanks to you—I got out of the dingy area I’d been renting and bought this apartment.”
“Not thanks to me. You’re the one who made your bar the huge success it became. I just went along for the ride.”
“I’m glad you did.” Getting serious for a moment, I asked, “What are we going to do if those racketeers don’t leave us alone? I don’t want them to drive us out, and selling the place will be impossible if word gets out. We can’t fight organized crime.” I released a long breath, and my eyes clung to his. “For one thing, I no longer have the strength for it.”
He grinned. “You’re the strongest woman I know, and that’s why we’re doing this Neighborhood Watch. You’re not going to let them win and neither am I. We’re going to drive them back to the warthole from which they came.”
I laughed. “Warthole? Can I use that?”
“You certainly may.” His eyes twinkled. “So now that you have me alone, you got any questions you want to ask me?”
“Plenty. So many, I don’t know where to start.” I tossed my hair back and gave him a bright smile. “You sure blew our candles out last night with that little surprise of yours. I must admit, I’m confused as to why you didn’t go into the restaurant business, especially considering that you chose bartending as an occupation.”
He gave a wry smile. “It wasn’t meant to be a permanent thing. I wasn’t getting along with my mother at the time. She’d just divorced husband number three, and I really liked the dude. I was living in New York and taking acting classes, hoping like thousands of others to make my way onto the Broadway stage. Got a few small parts in some kooky off-Broadway stints, but not enough to earn my keep.”
“Oh. I never knew you wanted to be an actor. I bet you’d have been wonderful. You should have gone to Hollywood with your dashing good looks.”
He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw and made a sour face. “It takes a lot more than looks to make a living acting. Talent being a small part. Luck and timing are the missing ingredients, and you can’t prepare for that. It happens or it doesn’t.”
“Maybe you didn’t give it enough time.”
“Maybe, but my mother was paying my bills and I didn’t like taking money from her. I swallowed my pride for three years and gave it a shot, but enough was enough. When I came to the Candy Bar I was twenty-five, and I didn’t want Mom’s support anymore.”
“Ah, so I should thank her then. That was my lucky day.”
“I figured I could make some good money for a few years and then be on my way. But I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much, and I certainly didn’t expect you.”
I bit my lip, and swallowed hard. I tentatively reached out a hand and touched his arm. “I didn’t know. You never said anything, did anything. You dated other women.”
“That was my mistake. I see that now. But you had a young son to take care of, and I wasn’t prepared to be a dad. I wanted my dream. Hoped that someone would walk into the bar one day and discover me. After awhile I began to believe that the Candy Bar magic would hit me, and I’d get everything I’d ever hoped for.”
“I’m so sorry it didn’t,” I told him honestly. “You of all people deserved some good fortune.”
“No more than the others. Look how happy Fran is, and Lydia, even Susie.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Every day and every year it got harder to believe, and harder to leave. I don’t mind—it gave me more time with you.”
We stared at each other for a long time. “Jake, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that if things don’t work out with Harrison, that I’m still here. I’m your friend, and would like to be more.”
My heart swelled, and tears filled my eyes. How many years had I wanted somebody to say those words to me? How often had I slept alone, worrying about Billy, and bills and our future, wishing I’d had someone to share my worries with?
He’d been there all along.
I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Would I feel a small part of the magic that I felt in Harrison’s arms when our bodies met, and his lips brushed mine? Would my heart pound with excitement, my body go limp with desire?
And if I didn’t feel those things, then I would hurt this wonderful man even more.
I glanced at my Michael Kors watch. The big dial said we had ten minutes before the girls would arrive. “We better go, Jake. But this
conversation isn’t over. It’s just beginning.”
He patted my backside. “I can wait. I’m good at it.”
“Yes. You are.”
I locked up the apartment and followed him down to the lobby. When we got to the street I looked around for his Jeep.
“Where’s your car?”
“Right in front of you.” He clicked his keypad and the lights of a snazzy BMW lit up.
“This is yours?”
“Yup. I don’t like to drive it to work.”
“I can see why. What else don’t I know about you?”
“I got a small trust fund when I turned twenty-five.”
“Nice.” I grinned. “And where do you live?”
“I might show you sometime. It’s pretty decent digs. Can’t complain.”
“I can only imagine.”
The girls were waiting outside the Candy Bar when we pulled up front. They glanced at Jake as he slid out from behind the wheel.
“Boy, did we have you pegged wrong,” Fran said with a naughty grin. “Heck, if I’d known you were driving around town in this fancy car, I’d have turned my nose up on John and given you a whirl.”
“Shucks,” he answered, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not too late. Tell John you’ve got yourself a younger man who’s gonna treat you right.”
“You want me to give him a heart attack?” Fran put a comfortable arm around his slim waist. “It took long enough to get him to agree to marry me.”
“Ah, you’re breaking my heart again, Frannie Mae.”
“I know, my young love.”
Fran winked at me and let go of Jake. “So what’s the plan? Let’s get Operation Candy Bar off and running. We haven’t got all day to chitchat.”
“I invited a few people to join us, and they should be here shortly.”
“Who did you invite?” Fran asked. “Not Jay, I hope.”
“No, people from the neighborhood,” I answered her. “The business owners around here have as much to lose—or to gain, as I do, and they should be in on this from the ground floor.”
“That’s great,” Susie said. “We can divide into groups and cover a bigger area in less time.”
The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 81