by Ivy Layne
“You've let this go?” I repeated, incredulous. Had he just called Royal a man-whore and me a slut? What the hell? All of a sudden, I was done. “You owe us an apology.”
“I'm not apologizing for speaking my truth,” my dad said, his chin sticking out in defiance. Hell, he looked just like a sullen little boy when he did that. Why couldn't my parents act like adults?
I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands. “Either you apologize, or you can get out of my bakery. I wish you'd never come back here. You say Royal is using me, that he's making a fool of me, but what about you? Are you ever going to pay me back? Or was that just a lie to placate me?”
My father's eyes skipped to Royal at the mention of payment. Just as quickly, he shrugged off his concern. “I told you, I'm working on it. I just need a little more time. And it wasn't your money in the first place.”
“It was half my money, which only makes it worse.” My voice was shaking, but I kept going. “And you know what? Keep it. Consider us even, pack your things, and leave Sawyers Bend. How about that? If you go, I'll forgive the debt.”
I thought that was a pretty good offer, all things considered. I wasn't expecting the rush of relief as I gave up on him repaying me. It didn't last long.
A silky smile spread across my father's face. I braced. Royal must have sensed something coming, because his hand closed over my shoulder, steadying me. I needed it.
“I don't have to pay you back anyway. You took the money from the business, right?”
I gave a stiff nod, so angry at my father I couldn't process the embarrassment of having my stupidity exposed to Royal.
“Then it's my money, too. Didn't Grams tell you?” He cocked his head to the side, innocent concern all over his face.
He was neither innocent nor concerned, he just wanted to set the stage. I couldn't even bring myself to shake my head. Instead, I leaned into Royal, needing his strength at my back.
“Your Grandmother changed her will. Sweetheart Bakery is in her name only, and when she dies, the whole thing comes to me. You're just an employee. So, technically, we could have you charged with felony theft.” He gave me a beatific smile, a cat with his paw on the mouse's tail, willing to be generous now that he had all the power.
There was a very good chance I was going to throw up. Just an employee? Grams and I had talked about changing the ownership structure of the business. I thought we just hadn't gotten around to it, and I hadn't pushed because… Because I trusted my grandmother.
My chest was caving in, oxygen strangling in my lungs. Everything I'd worked for was gone. I'd given up on school, thinking I wouldn't need it with Sweetheart in my future. Thinking I was part of a team, that I'd found my place.
It was all a lie.
My father waited for me to say something. I scrabbled for words, mind spinning, stomach slowly turning inside out. Maybe he was lying. It wouldn't be the first time. And Grams wouldn't just give him the bakery. No way.
I tried to imagine him waking up hours before dawn to work his ass off in a hot kitchen.
Not going to happen.
Before I let that realization calm me, I understood.
He wouldn't have to wake up early to bust his ass in the kitchen. That's what I was for.
I refused to cry. Or throw up. My father's smile was kind as he said to Royal, “This is family business, Sawyer. Why don't you give Daisy some space to work this out on her own? She doesn't have time to entertain you. She has special orders to finish.”
To me, he added, “Go work out that mood on some dough. We're low on bread up here.”
I didn't move. Royal waited, not bothering to acknowledge my father's words. After a few seconds of furious thought, I realized I only had one question. “When did Grams talk to you about her will?” Fists clenched at my sides, I hoped he'd say ‘Last year,’ or, ‘A while ago.’
Another of those feline smiles from my father. “We were just talking about it last night, honey.”
I was standing in the middle of the bakery, but in reality, my back was against the wall. I could hardly believe what I was doing as I untied my apron with the big pink Sweetheart logo on the front. Tossing it over the counter, I spoke words I’d never imagined would come from my mouth.
“I quit.”
I closed my ears to my mother's protests, refused to see my father's angry glare. My brain went straight to the practicalities. I needed my purse and my keys from the kitchen. Just as I started to move, Royal took the lead, blocking my parents in behind the register and clearing my path to the kitchen door.
We were through and in the kitchen before my parents could stop us. They followed, my mother pleading for me to calm down and talk this out.
My father shouted, “You'll be back! No one else in this town will give you a job!”
His words chased me out the door.
Chapter Thirty-One
Daisy
We sat in my little beater of a car behind the bakery, Royal waiting patiently for me to say something and me silent with shock.
Had I just quit the bakery? What was I going to do? I didn't have much saved and no formal education past high school. My apartment came with the job. I would have said Grams would never kick me out, but she'd cut me out of the bakery, so who knew what she'd do?
Royal reached over and took my hand. “You and I need to switch seats.”
I gave him a blank look. Switch seats?
“You're not in any shape to drive. Switch seats with me.” Numb, I did as I was told. When he was settled in the driver's seat, he asked, “Where to? I can take you home to Heartstone. Or we can track down your grandmother and find out how much of your father's bullshit was true.”
I wanted to crawl under the covers of Royal's bed and pretend the entire day hadn't happened. Since the same problems would be waiting for me when I crawled back out, I chose option number two. “Let's find Grams and see what's going on.”
We found her at home, folding laundry in front of a daytime game show. Seeing both of us, a brilliant smile spread across her face. As she took in my grim expression and Royal's lack of a greeting, the smile faded away.
“What's wrong, baby? Is everything alright?”
She started to set down the shirt in her hands, worry clouding her familiar features. Maybe this was just a misunderstanding. Maybe he'd been lying to make a point. Maybe— “Did you tell Dad that he was going to inherit the bakery? That I was just an employee?”
Grams's face fell in dismay. “No, Daisy! Of course not!” Relief coursed through me for a moment until I noticed the way she was twisting the shirt in her hands, her eyes looking past me but not at me.
“Grams?” I prompted.
“It will all work out right in the end. I'm leaving the bakery to Darren, but he has to leave it to you. So, it's yours in the long run…”
It was a hammer blow right to my heart. I must have made a sound, because Grams flinched and Royal was right there, his arm coming around my shoulders. I could barely force my mouth to form words.
“Why would you do that? When did you decide? Just a few months ago we were talking about partnership papers and— Why didn't you tell me you'd changed your mind?”
“Because I didn't. Not really. This just delays things. Your father thought—”
Of course, it was his idea. “I'm not going to be a partner?”
Grams stood, setting the laundry on the couch. “Let me make some coffee, and we'll talk this out.”
“I don't want coffee, Grams. I just want to get this straight. Were you ever going to make me a partner? Was that ever the plan or did you just tell me that to placate me?”
“No, Daisy, baby, I never lied to you. It's just that your father and Sheree—they need stability. I thought—Darren thought—that if they had something to come home to—”
I suc
ked in a deep breath. “Since you two are so cozy all of a sudden, did you know he just told Royal I didn't want to see him anymore? And then when I interrupted to correct him, he called Royal a man-whore and me a slut. Is that what you think, too?”
Grams went pale. Her eyes turned to Royal, beseeching. “No, Royal, no. Not at all. I'm so sorry Darren was so rude. I've been thrilled you two are together. Daisy's been so happy—” Her voice faded away, and she looked at the floor. When she raised her head, her eyes were wet. “He's my baby.”
“I thought I was your baby.” The plaintive tone of my voice brought tears of humiliation to my eyes. All my life my parents had ignored me, but it was okay because I had Grams. Except now, it seemed that, in the end, I didn’t have her either.
Grams reached for me. I stepped back. I got it now. My dad needed more, so he got more. All my hard work wasn't worth anything. Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I reached for Royal's hand. His fingers closed around mine, holding tight.
“Just so you know,” I began, “I lent Dad the twenty thousand dollars we had saved for the renovations. He had a business plan and spreadsheets and I truly thought he was going to pay us back. You've probably figured out that he changed his mind. That's why I keep putting you off on the renovations. Because the money is gone.”
“Oh, Daisy, it's okay, baby, I understand.”
“Do you? Because I don't. I asked him about it before we came here, and he said he wasn't going to pay us back and technically he could press charges against me for stealing from the bakery.”
“Well, that's absurd! Of course, I'd never—”
“I'm telling you because keeping the secret has been making me miserable. And also because when you take over the accounting, you'll see what I did. I'm sorry. I screwed up and now you won't get your deck or outside seating. Not for a while. Probably not ever since Dad won't let you save up that much without talking you into giving it to him instead.”
“Daisy, your father—” She stopped and stared at me in confusion. “Why would I take over the accounting?”
“You can't let Mom or Dad do it,” I said slowly. I thought that was obvious. “Whatever you do, don't give them access to your banking or the checkbook.”
“They wouldn't—” Grams cut off again.
I ignored her. Of course, they would. They'd already gotten away with stealing from her once, though that was mostly my fault. Now that we were talking about accounting, I remembered our clients and the schedule.
“I'll come in tomorrow to finish the event cakes for this weekend.”
Grams just stared at me, mouth open, stunned silent. Royal took pity on her. “Eleanor,” he said gently, “Daisy quit the bakery.”
Another thing I thought would be obvious. A tear spilled down Grams' cheek, and I felt like absolute dog shit for making my grandmother cry.
“Grams,” I said, my voice hitching, “I can't stay. I thought it was ours, that we were a team. I won't work with Dad. Not after what he did and the things he said. I don't think you should either, but it's been made very clear that it isn't my business.”
“Daisy. I can't choose—”
Horror engulfed me. That wasn't what I meant. “I'm not trying to make you choose. I understand that he's your son. I get it. I know how much you love him, how happy you are when he's home. If this makes them stay—”
My throat locked up, tears flooding my eyes until I couldn't see. I wanted Grams to be happy. I loved her too much to want anything else. I just couldn't be a part of her happiness if it came at this cost. Dad would ruin her. I wasn't sticking around to watch.
At that thought, I reached my limit. “I love you,” I forced out, darting forward to catch her in a brief hug before I bolted out the front door. Royal followed after a moment, taking my arm and helping me into the car.
“What did you say to her?” I asked when I thought I could get a word out.
“That I'd look out for you.”
I wanted to be strong, to tell him I didn't need him to look out for me, but right then, I very much did. I couldn't really see where he was driving. Grams' face kept popping into my head, that look of confusion and pain. Hurting her left my chest hollow and aching, my stomach sick. I almost told Royal to turn the car around and go back, but then I thought of my father, that smug smile and the sound of him calling me a slut for falling in love with a good man.
No, there was no going back. I loved Grams so much, but Dad was her problem. I'd never been able to get him to be a good father or a good son, and he sure as hell didn't fit my definition of a good husband. I'd never understand why my mother put up with him. How could she choose him over her own child? That question pulled a hitching sob from my throat.
“Daisy.” Royal reached over and squeezed my hand. I looked up to see that we were pulling to a stop in The Inn’s parking lot. “I'm going to bring you home to Heartstone. We'll go straight up to my rooms and you won't have to see anyone. We can leave your car here. Do you need anything?”
A decent set of parents? My life back the way I thought it was?
I shook my head. Royal couldn't fix this for me. I managed to whisper, “Thanks,” my voice thick. His lips pressed to my forehead and a fresh wave of tears cascaded from my eyes. What had I done to deserve this man? My life was a mess, my father had insulted him, and here he was, taking care of me.
“Thank you,” I said again, this time clearer, the blue of his gaze burning away the moisture in my eyes.
He dropped another kiss, this time on my lips. “Anything for you, Daisy. You should know that by now.”
Anything for me.
He was the first person to say those words to me. That should have scared me. It didn't. I knew I'd do anything for Royal, too.
I had no idea how soon I'd understand what that really meant, and how much it would cost me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
royal
Daisy was a shell of herself.
I'm not a violent kind of guy. I usually figure problems can be better solved with a smile and words than throwing a punch. All of that went out the window when it came to Daisy's father. I didn't give a shit what he called me, but calling her a slut?
I hate that word on a good day. Why should anyone be called names for liking sex? It was stupid and narrow-minded. But to say that to Daisy? Daisy, who hadn't even dated in over a year? Daisy, who was so sweet, and funny, and everything I'd ever wanted in a woman—everything I never knew I needed.
I white-knuckled the steering wheel all the way to Heartstone so I wouldn't swing the car around and head straight back to Sweetheart to put Darren Hutchins on his ass.
Now I knew what she'd been hiding about the bakery and the stalled renovations.
Again, I repressed the urge to pulverize her father. What kind of asshole steals from both his daughter and his mother at the same time? And then says he'll have her arrested when she asks for the money back?
I heard a grinding noise, and for a second, I thought it was my car. I realized it was my teeth and that a headache was throbbing behind my eyes.
Fuck. I had to get it together for Daisy. She needed me to support her, not trample in, fists swinging.
At Heartstone, I parked beside the garage and ushered Daisy in through the side door, straight to the family wing on the second floor. We didn't run into anyone on the way. Daisy's shoulders sagged in relief when we closed the door to my suite behind us.
I texted Savannah to let her know Daisy’d had a bad day, and we'd be skipping dinner in favor of the privacy of my suite. I knew better than to ask for the meal to be served up here—Savannah didn't do room service—but she surprised me by offering to have our food delivered.
Daisy was loved, she just didn't know by how many people. Not yet. Her family might have let her down, but mine was jumping in to pick up the slack.
Daisy pace
d the living room of my suite, wiping her eyes now and then as I tried to think of what to say.
“I'll have to move,” she muttered to herself, dashing away a fresh wave of tears. I struggled to push back the need to kick her father's ass.
“You can move in with me,” I said with a shrug.
She might as well be living here already. I'd cleared space for her in the closet weeks ago, ditto for the bathroom. I had one of the bigger suites in Heartstone Manor, with a spacious bedroom and bathroom, huge walk-in closet, and a sitting room-slash-office. The only suite bigger was the one Griffen shared with Hope.
Daisy followed my eyes around the room. It was easily several times the size of her small apartment over the bakery, and far more luxurious. Prentice had let whole wings of Heartstone fall into disrepair, but the family wing had remained intact if a little dusty.
She gave me a look that had me doubting my sanity.
“You don't want to move in with me?” I asked.
A heavy sigh gusted out. “It's not that, Royal. I love being here with you, but we've only been seeing each other for a month. It's way too soon to move in together.”
“Maybe, but—” A knock fell on the door.
Annoyed at the interruption, I strode across the room to find Hope standing there, a small white bag in one hand. She leaned around me, looking for Daisy. When their eyes met, Hope brushed past me, holding the bag out to Daisy.
“I don't want to interrupt, but I was with Savannah when Royal texted and I thought these might help.”
Daisy took the bag, read the logo on the front, and shoved them back at Hope. “I can't take them.”
I checked the logo and understood. The Chocolate Obsession, a well-known, award-winning chocolatier based out of Asheville. Their chocolates were both amazing and very expensive. Also precious, since the shop was an hour away.