Tough Going (Tough Love Book 2)

by Trixie More

  “Because I’m the smart one here, I’m not betting on feline anatomy when I know nothing about it,” Sophia announced grandly. “Instead, I’ll be the impartial judge.” She looked up the answer.

  “Derrick’s the smart one, you are the beautiful one,” Ben said.

  Sophia looked at him in mock anger. “Just for that, I am happy to announce that, yes, the cat here, has tonsils. But it is statistically doubtful that we will need to have them removed.” She shrugged one elegant shoulder, tipping her chin toward it and raising her perfectly arched brows in a gesture of see-how-smart-I-am-now? “You, sir, need to give my big brother twenty buckos, bucko.”

  Ben stood up, reaching behind him to pull out his wallet. Derrick watched Sophia watch Ben. She didn’t react to Ben coming nearer, not the way he saw Allison respond when he came closer. Ben, however, was watching every nuance of Sophia’s face, his gaze quickly sweeping over her curves. Exactly what Derrick did not want to think about, but at the same time, he did want to know if she was going to lead Ben on. Sophia didn’t seem to intentionally lure men in and break their hearts, but for a very, very smart woman like her, it was hard to imagine she couldn’t figure out how that pile of torn organs she tripped over got there.

  Ben rested a hand on her waist while he handed the money to her. Derrick shrugged his shoulders to get the tension out of there.

  “So!” There, that came out way too loud. Ben dropped his hand, and Derrick pressed on. “This is Mr. Whiskers. He’s going to live with us.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes, stepping around Sophia to look inside the case. Sophia, for her part, handed the twenty to Derrick.

  “Hey, this is George’s cat,” Ben said.

  “Yep.”

  “How’d you get him?”

  “Debra. I stopped by to see if she needed anything and caught her packing the kids into the car and leaving.” Derrick didn’t know a better way to say it.

  “Leaving?” Ben turned his head to look at Derrick, then stood up and faced him. “Leaving for where?”

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  “Does George know where she’s going?”

  Mr. Whiskers took that moment to stroll out of the case with an exaggerated lack of concern. Derrick thought the cat was mediocre, as actors went. The cat arched against the side of the case, stepped away, and settled himself to clean his paws as if he could care less about his new home.

  “Not yet,” Derrick said. “I don’t think she intends to tell him so far.”

  “My brother is stuck out there with no way of knowing where his family is? And she’s just leaving?”

  “Debra’s terrified out of her skull.”

  “She should be with George.”

  “They seem to disagree.”

  Ben sighed and sat down in the swivel chair. “How did this get so fucked-up, Der?”

  Sophia dragged a kitchen stool over and perched on it, swiping her long hair behind her shoulders.

  “Do either of you know who George borrowed the money from?” He and Ben shook their heads. “It could be that they’re already under investigation. Maybe George is already known to law enforcement as part of some other case they’re working on. I think you should at least report what’s happened to the police.”

  “They know George was beaten and they didn’t do anything about it.”

  “You actually don’t know what they’re doing about it. It appears to you the police are doing nothing, but you really have no clue.” Sophia’s face was smooth and calm. She didn’t give up her cards easily in any conversation. One thing was for sure, Derrick thought, there were two Moss children you didn’t want to play poker with, Sophia and him. “Derrick, Ben asked me to help him with George’s issue.” Her face remained unchanged while she delivered the news and Derrick kept his face like stone. She knew darn well he didn’t want her involved in shit like this, but with her profession, his wishes weren’t going to matter much. He still couldn’t believe she was going to be a DA in the Bronx.

  While the choice might have blown his father’s mind because she was far too beautiful to be wasted on the law in what he considered a low-quality part of the city, Derrick didn’t give a fuck about that. He just thought it wasn’t safe. He wanted to see Sophia do what she wanted, but safely. No chance of that. For the first time, he wondered if anyone felt that way about his occupation. Did Allison?

  Sophia smirked at him. Derrick didn’t rise to the bait and, seemingly satisfied, she turned her attention back to Ben.

  “I really don’t know if I can do anything, Ben, but I’ll go see what I can find out.” She hopped off the stool, dragged it back to the kitchen, gave the cat a pat, and her brother a kiss. She waved her fingers at Ben and headed for the door, leaving Derrick to witness the disappointment on his friend’s face. “By the way boys, you better get a litter box, fast.” She opened the door and stepped through. “Ta-ta!” The door closed.

  “Crap.”

  “I think that’s what she meant,” Ben said.

  Allison got to the shop about eleven a.m. and was followed inside by Glen, a resident of the neighborhood and owner of the bookstore down the street. Book signings turned out to be better with cake, and he’d get a couple dozen cupcakes for any signing. Today he wanted carrot cupcakes. She was happy for the chance to make some money but, she wasn’t a bakery. She told him to come back at three and headed into the kitchen to start grating carrots.

  Maybe she should just sell the business or give it back to Angelo and go to work for her father as an around the clock caregiver. She thought about the apartment she adored and her new roommate. She loved them both. Not to mention the ability to have Derrick come and spend the night. She didn’t really think her relationship with Derrick would last, but if she were living with her father, it would be over before it started. Allison filled the cupcake tins and put the pans in the oven. She heard the damn bell ringing away, and so she hustled out to the front of the shop to find several groups waiting for her.

  “Hi,” she said to the whole hodgepodge of neighborhood people. “Be right with you.”

  The next hour went by quickly as she scheduled services for three different parties. By twelve thirty, the customers had dwindled to a trickle and then stopped altogether. Marley, arriving for her shift, took the orders from Allison and shook her head.

  “What’re you doin’, boss lady? Have you lost your mind?”

  Allison squinted at Marley. She looked different. “Are you wearing makeup? You look great today. How’s little Karito?”

  “My daughter is fine, with her grandmother, as you know. Don’ try to change the topic.”

  “We don’t have a subject. You went to church this morning, didn’t you?”

  “Dis is not abou’ me.” Marley disappeared into the kitchen and came back with an apron on.

  “You’re on one of your praying jags, aren’t you? What are you trying to talk God into now?”

  “None of your business.” Marley looked heavenward. “Gringos.”

  “God isn’t going to help you spit out what’s on your mind, Marley. He knows you don’t need any help.” Allison started a new pot of coffee brewing, and Marley did a quick balancing of the register.

  “Ok, then. You asked,” Marley said.

  Allison just smiled to herself. How this went from something Marley felt compelled to express, to something Allison had asked for, was pure Marley. According to her, people were always begging her to criticize them.

  Marley’s black hair was pulled into a ponytail, tucked inside a pretty net bag with a black velvet bow, like something out of a fifties movie. It was fancy enough that she could have done her hair at home and then hit church with it on, her makeup all in place. Allison spied the little twill jacket under the counter. Over the plain white T-shirt Marley had on, the coat made the outfit just dressy enough. For Marley, the church was the beating heart of her community, and there was nothing in the woman’s life that God wasn’t deeply involved in. The concept eluded A
llison, she had nothing in her life to compare it to, no spiritual bedrock, per say. What she knew of God, she’d learned in public school.

  “Go ahead, Marley. Let me have it.”

  “OK, muchacha. Here’s the problem. You and me? We’re caterers. Get that? And these people coming in? They are not ordering catering. You’re selling them cake! That’s not what we do! If they get catering, then they can get dessert. They can’t get just cake. We’re not a bakery.” The volume on Marley’s voice was rising, her hands starting to get into the groove, jumping out occasionally from her sides to narrowly miss the cash register, the edge of the counter, the wall. “It’s like if you go to the wholesale supplier and want one can of peas. You can’t get one can of peas. Choo gotta take the whole case, idiota!” Marley’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to climb to the back of her skull, to get right away from that mouth of hers.

  Rant on, mama, Allison thought as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You know why? Because that’s their business! When Angelo had this whole place, he wasn’t selling empanadas on the corner at lunchtime. No! He wasn’t selling bar pizza after the kitchen closed. No! And he wasn’t encouraging the locals to sit at the bar. They did, and he sold them a beer, but he didn’t change his business to make it easier for them. Why? They weren’t his tribe! His tribe was them high up people with the fat wallets who wanted to pay through the nose for the best Italian food in the city. Them people that want to brag all to their friends at work how they could get a table at Mastrelo’s! Those were his customers. The regulars at the bar were like … like …” Marley lost steam.

  “Rats?”

  “NO!”

  “Flies?” Allison offered.

  “NO! You. Angelo didn’t treat them bad like pests. He respected them. He just didn’t change his business for them.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “You can’t do everything, Allison. You just can’t.” Marley seemed to come back into her own body, her expression becoming calmer. Her eyes, getting less wild and round. Her hands came to rest at her waist. Then she did something alarming. Those unpredictable fingers left her hips and reached out to Allison.

  No, this was not going to be a big group hug for poor Allison, the little lost business owner. She was the boss, the owner, the one who ran the show. Marley stepped closer, and things got worse. Her expression as flexible as taffy on a hot day, twisted into bald compassion. Allison felt her chest get tight. She didn’t need this. Marley was in front of her now, and there was no escape. Literally, she’d have to bolt over the counter to get away because the Latina was blocking the only way out.

  “Muchacha,” Marley said. Allison took a step back. “You working so hard here, you trying to do it all by yourself.” Warm, strong arms wrapped around Allison. She stiffened. Raised one hand to Marley’s arm and gave it a single pat. Maybe that would end it.

  “No, no, girl,” Marley said. “You need to be kinder to yourself.” The arms squeezed around her. “You have so many people who love you here, you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

  Platitudes, Allison thought. In the end, she did have to do this by herself.

  Marley pulled back from the hug and held Allison at arms’ length, searching her face. She took a step back, one long brown arm flinging into the air. “Idiota! You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  Allison laughed. “I did, I did. I just don’t know what to do about it.” She brought the conversation back to business. She didn’t want to tell this beautiful person, with all her vibrant faith, that the universe was basically empty and everyone had to row their own boat if they didn’t want to drown. Fire and ice. The water they navigated sat between the two and everyone rowed their own boat if they didn’t want to sink.

  “Go see Angelo,” Marley sighed, leaving the front and heading to the kitchen. “He’ll know what to do with you.”

  Allison stopped in her tracks. She’d been making like a lemming, heading to the office to throw herself off the cliffs of her bookkeeping woes when she heard Marley’s parting shot.

  Hadn’t Derrick told her the same thing? Ask Angelo.

  Allison tried to recall what she’d said to the man when he’d been in here trying to take back the mortgage from her. Had she been terrible to him? She couldn’t remember. All of that happened before. Before the brutal catering night, before … bossy sex. Heat rose over Allison’s skin, a flush that seemed to start from her feet and consume her right where she stood in the front of her own shop. She glanced at the door, the familiar red cylinder sat there, positioned precisely for the best access. Pull and shoot. Calming. Reassuring. The combustion that had threatened her cooled. Allison continued to her office. It didn’t matter if she’d been rude to Angelo, it didn’t matter if she had to grovel for his help. Nothing mattered but flipping the switch on this damn business from money sucking black hole to burning sun, pouring golden coins down upon them. Because it was going to take a full-blown rainstorm of money to get herself, her father and now, George, back to square one. Because if Derrick was taking on George, that meant Allison was too. It would be tough going to pull herself out of the quicksand of debt, but if there was one person on this planet who could drag herself and everyone she knew to safety, there was no doubt in Allison’s mind—she was that person.

  Chapter 22

  If there’s one person who absolutely, under no circumstances, should be trying to save Ben and George, that person is me, Sophia thought. She knew darn well that Ben was halfway in love with her. But in the moment, there on the couch at Derrick’s loft, the man had been so handsome and so angrily frightened for his brother, holding herself back had seemed cruel. She’d stroked Ben’s hair, tried to give him a sisterly hug and wound up kissing the man. He’d tasted like beer. Her body didn’t sing with the contact, she’d known it wouldn’t, Ben wasn’t her one. At least, not that she knew. Did chemistry change? Would a slow building of love create that magic, like an alchemist, changed iron to gold? She didn’t know. She never knew. She loved everyone, and that made it hard to tell if she was ever in love with anyone.

  Derrick was going to kill her.

  Sophia carried that thought with her into the subway. She watched the eyes of the men on the train as they realized she was there. Lust. Interest. Outright stares, many of them washing over her hips and breasts. Sophia lifted her chin and straightened to her full height, letting her eyes go cold and full of disdain, curling her lip like she smelled something terrible. Keep your eyes to yourselves. She willed them all to look away and made sure the wish stuck by looking everyone bold enough, right in their trespassing eyes. One by one, the men looked away. Ben, at least, had known her for a long time. She wasn’t sure, was he like all of these men? Crazy for her looks only, or did he really know her?

  Sophia took stock of the occupants of the entire car and felt herself relax a bit as her glance fell on a man, tawny hair, plaid shorts that came to the knee, a blue polo, his slightly hairy calves leading to sneakers with no socks. He was not looking at her, his attention was on the child at his side. A boy with hair just a bit lighter than his father’s, twisted on the orange plastic, his red Keds kicking, fat little legs pumping, something sticky clutched in one hand, all of his attention on the world whipping past the window behind him. The man gently placed a palm on the boy’s side, protective and still allowing the boy to explore.

  A man like that? Why couldn’t she find a guy like that? She looked away. She wanted a man that wasn’t trying to make her the center of his world. She didn’t want to be the great purpose for someone else. She wanted to work on a great mission with a partner. She wanted to be at the center with someone else, all of their attention focused outward, on the life they would build. Not all caught up in how her fucking face looked in the sun or the way the curves on her body were so perfect. Ben was never going to be that man, and she knew it in her bones. She wanted someone who didn’t want her, basically. Could a woman be any more screwed up?r />
  The train doors opened and Sophia yanked the belt on her coat tighter. She spared the father and son one more glance before she got off. Sophia walked to the next train and got on, basically going through the whole damn thing again. She had a long ride back out to Pelham and Sunday’s there were fewer trains. Clerks like her received a salary insufficient to live in NYC. For now, she lived with her parents, something that really bugged the heck out of her. Not a day went by that she didn’t fantasize about moving out. Even living in Jersey was starting to sound good. And if she was willing to drive two hours to work each day, she could get an A-frame in the Poconos for a song.

  Sophia sighed. Four hours was a lot of time to burn each day on the road. Maybe if she had a self-driving car, it would work. Derry was always pointing out the fact that they were a reality now. A car like that would allow her to study and work during the ride. She wasn’t planning on being a clerk very long. She had just two more years of law school and then the exam to pass, and she’d be an attorney. She didn’t think she’d stay at the district attorney’s office although they’d started making noises like they wanted to snap her up. Putting bad guys away held a lot of satisfaction, but the money wasn’t going to get her where she wanted to go.

  The train rumbled through the neighborhoods around the city and carried her farther from her dreams and closer to her home, for now. She turned her attention to the problem at hand, George. Derrick seemed to think that the way to go was to pay the thieves and be done with it. From a particular perspective, that made sense, but who’s to say that they wouldn’t decide that George could be extorted from that day on. After all, once you paid up under threat, didn’t that mean that you would continue to pay to protect your safety? It seemed risky to pay the money. Also, she spent all day watching smart, dedicated people work their asses off to try to put these people away. Handing over a wad of cash to some punk gangsta was just one more way to make the bad guys win and that, she wanted no part of.