by Ivy Layne
I braced as the door to the front swung open. Grams walked in, the phone to her ear and a smile on her face. When she reached me, she said, “Here she is,” and held the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
Royal's voice answered. “Hey, I tried your cell, but you didn't pick up.”
“Sorry, my hands are covered with frosting. Is everything okay?”
“I didn't mean to worry you. West stopped by with an update on the Forrest thing and said your place was cleared. I have a few staff in housekeeping who're coming off shift and wouldn't mind earning a few bucks to clean up a mess. Can I send them over to your place?”
My heart pinched in my chest, his sweetness almost painful. Tears sprung to my eyes. I was done with crying, but Royal was too much. “I can't afford—”
“Daisy. Let me help.”
What else could I say? Nothing, except, “Thank you. That would be great. I'll make it up to you.”
“Make me a mixed berry pie one of these days, and we'll call it even.”
“It's a deal,” I said and sniffed.
“You okay?” His voice was gentle, soothing the ragged tears in my soul.
Aware my grandmother was close enough to hear considering she was holding the phone to my ear, I said, “Sure. I'm fine. I'll go unlock the door upstairs as soon as I finish this frosting.”
“Come see me when you're done there. I'll be at The Inn all day. Griffen and Hope took the day off, and I have a pile of stuff to do here. I'll probably be late, but I want to see you.”
“Okay. As soon as I'm done.”
Grams pulled the phone away at my nod and clicked the button to end the call. “What's going on? Why did Royal need to talk to you so badly he couldn't wait for you to call back?”
“Someone broke into my place last night and made a huge mess. He's sending someone to clean it up for me.”
“Is that why Weston was here?” Grams narrowed her eyes at me, knowing I wasn't telling her everything.
“Yes. It's not a big deal.”
I couldn't remember ever feeling this awkward tension with Grams. Even when I was a teenager and we'd fight I never felt like this. There was a wall between us, and I didn't know how to tear it down. Didn't know if I wanted to.
Grams nodded, then hesitated. I braced. “Daisy,” she said slowly, “I talked to your father about the money you said you gave him. He said he didn't know what I was talking about. When I checked the account, it showed a transfer to you, but that was it.”
I just stared at her, puzzle pieces clicking into place inside my brain. “We had a contract. Of course, we had a contract. It's up in my apartment.”
My apartment that had been broken into. I went straight to the sink to strip off my gloves and wash my hands. Grams followed behind. I didn't want her to see the mess upstairs and worry more.
“I'll go get it and bring it back down,” I said, heading for the stairs.
Grams didn't follow, just watched me leave, her eyes sad.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Daisy
I was pretty sure what I would find when I opened my closet. I hadn't thought to check my file box earlier that morning. For the most part, it was full of bills, the paperwork on my car, and not much else. I'd forgotten about the contract.
The file box was shoved in the back of my closet since I didn't use it much. It was tipped on its side, papers strewn over the floor mixed with my shoes and the clothes that had been pulled off the hangers.
Everything else looked like it was there, but the contract was missing. Damn.
My mind raced. Now I had a suspect for the break-in. What was I supposed to do?
Call Royal. That was my first instinct.
Call West. Not something I wanted to do, but probably something I should do.
Think it over while you finish the cakes. That I could do.
I was mid-process on both and only an hour or two from finishing them. If my hunch was right and my dad had broken in to steal the contract, another hour or two wouldn't make a big difference. I wanted to go to Grams' house and check his room to see if the contract was there, but if I went rushing out my parents would be suspicious. Especially after I'd made such a big deal about finishing the cakes.
The last stages on my custom cakes felt like they took a million years. No one came back into the kitchen, leaving me to work in peace. I heard the two housekeepers from The Inn climb the stairs not long before I finished.
When I was done with the cakes, I stored them in the cooler, stopped at the laptop on the desk to sign out of my personal email and cloud account, and packed my favorite coffee mug and the rest of my things from the desk.
That done, I was ready to leave. I didn't bother going to the front to let them know. Better if they thought I was still back in the kitchen, working on the cakes. Before I headed to Grams' house, I went upstairs one more time.
The two housekeepers were young, just out of high school, fresh-faced, and not at all daunted by the disaster that was my apartment.
I recognized one of them. Chocolate silk pie and black coffee. She looked up and grinned. “Hey, Daisy! Sorry about this. Are you okay?”
“I'm good.” I faked a smile back. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem!” She grinned again. “I'm saving up for a new car, and Kristi wants to go to Cancun with her boyfriend, so we could both use the extra cash.”
A thought occurred to me. “Hey, when you do the bedroom and the bathroom, instead of putting my stuff away, could you pack it? I'm going to be moving, so it doesn't make sense to put it all back in the closet when I'm just going to take it back out again.”
“Sure, no problem! Moving in with Royal?” She shot me a wink. I tried to smile back.
“Maybe. I'm still deciding.”
I got out my suitcases and said a quick hello to Kristi, who'd already started in the bedroom. She was as enthusiastic and perky as the first girl, whose name I didn't remember. Promising she was on top of it, Kristi ushered me out and on my way. I was more than happy to go. I owed Royal big time for this.
I speed-walked to Grams' house. Now that I was on the move, I wanted this done. If he had taken the contract, he'd probably destroyed it. Unless he hadn't had a chance. Looking for it was the longest of long shots, but it was worth a try.
I felt like a thief as I let myself into the empty house. Everything looked normal. Almost. Grams wasn't crazy tidy—we never would have survived my adolescence if she had been—but she was neater than my parents, who'd left their things strewn all over the place. I resisted the urge to pick it all up. Grams had trained me well, but I didn't have time to deal with their mess. I had one of my own.
Their room was worse than the rest of the house—drawers hanging open, dirty clothes slung across the unmade bed. Not my problem, though it would be easier to search if things were where they belonged. Ignoring my annoyance, I began to look for the contract. It wasn't much, only two sheets stapled together, signed and dated by both of us.
They didn't have many papers lying around, and none of them were the contract. After a cursory search, I found a half-eaten sandwich on a plate on the dresser, a huge wad of cash in the sock drawer, and a small pile of unpaid bills. No contract.
I stood in the middle of the bedroom, hands on my hips, and turned a slow circle, studying the room for the best hiding place. I'd checked behind the mirror and under the bed.
Under the bed.
I looked again and pulled out the suitcases I'd seen there. They kept theirs in the same place I'd stored mine. Both were empty. I checked the liners, looking for a gap or place he could have secreted away the contract.
My heart raced when my fingers found a gap in the lining. The papery rustle wasn't the contract—it was a wad of cash, this one bigger than the one I'd found in his sock dra
wer. I didn't count it, but it was more than I would have expected. What was my dad up to that he had so much cash lying around? Those poker games he'd bragged about or something else?
That was it for the suitcases. The closet? I'd checked the shelves already, but I dragged a chair over for a better look. On the top shelf, my groping hand encountered another rustle. Fabric on top of something else. Paper. Bingo. This had to be it.
I tugged, pulling it all towards me until fabric and paper fell in a heap on my head. I didn't recognize the paper except to see that it wasn't the contract. Torn from a notebook, it had a series of numbers scribbled haphazardly across the otherwise blank page. Creased and worn, it looked like it had been folded and re-folded more than once.
I folded it one more time and left it on the bed. I'd worry about the paper later. I was more concerned about the pile of fabric at my feet.
Even in a crumpled pile on the floor, I recognized it instantly. An Inn uniform, the kind the bellhops and front desk employees wore.
What the hell? Why would my dad have an Inn uniform? My heart sped up, leaving me dizzy.
There was no good reason for him to have an Inn uniform. None. He didn't work there, and the uniforms were expensive. No one on the staff would have left this lying around. He had to have stolen it. My knees weak, I sank to the edge of the bed, mind reeling with the implications.
Not exactly sure why I was doing it, I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the closet shelf where the cap that matched the rest of the uniform sat, hanging over the edge. I photographed the uniform in its pile on the floor, then lay it across the unmade bed and took one more picture. Then another of the paper I'd found, front and back.
Was I going to tell West?
Hadn't I just promised him that if I knew anything I'd tell him right away? I had.
And I'd meant it when I said it. I did. But the implications of my discovery were so much bigger than I'd imagined.
Mostly because I hadn't imagined I'd learn anything at all. I hadn't let myself think that my dad was behind the break-in, much less that he was the one who'd been trying to destroy Royal's Inn.
I sank on the edge of the bed, staring down at the carpet between my feet, heart racing, chest too tight for a deep breath. Was there any other reason my dad would have an Inn uniform? Anything at all? I could explain away the cash as leftover poker winnings, but not the uniform.
I had to tell West. And Royal.
Royal. My heart ached at the thought of Royal. How could I explain this? He would hate me. How could he not?
You can't keep this a secret.
I couldn't. I wouldn't lie to him. He deserved better. Did that mean I was going to turn my dad in to West?
“I thought I'd find you here. Just can't do what you're told, can you?” my father asked, his voice hard.
I looked up to see him leaning on the door frame, his dark hair falling into his eyes in a rakish wave, his blue eyes sharp. How could I have thought Royal was anything like this man?
Darren might have been my father, but he was a liar and a thief. An opportunist and a con man. Nothing about him was like Royal.
“Why do you have an Inn uniform, Dad?” I asked. I glanced down at my phone, half-hidden by my hip. The camera app was still open. I flicked a thumb to swipe to the video setting and hit the record button. I couldn't get my head around turning my dad in to West, but after the way he'd lied about the contract to Grams, I wanted proof.
“None of your business. What are you doing in my room going through my things, Daisy?”
I thought about coming up with a cover story, but I was tired of all the lying. “Grams said you denied borrowing any money, so I went up to show her the contract you signed, but it was gone. Did you break into my apartment?”
The sly grin that spread across his face was all the answer I needed. Of course, his words were more lies, but the truth was all over him.
“Don't be ridiculous. Why did you have to tell her about the money? I told you I was going to take care of both of you. Bringing my mother into this was a mistake.”
“Your mother, my grandmother. And the last time we talked about this, you threatened to have me charged with theft.”
“Daisy, girl, you take everything so seriously. Break things off with your boyfriend. He's too cozy with the police chief. Then all you have to do is forget about the money, come back to work where you belong, and everything will go back to normal. You can live over the bakery and do whatever you do with your little fairy friend, and we'll pretend none of this ever happened.”
I stared up at him in shocked amazement. Was he insane? He wanted me to break up with Royal, had called J.T. a fairy, and thought after that—and everything else—there was any chance I was going to come back to work for him? For him?
No fucking way. Not ever. I wanted to storm out and never see him again. I stayed where I was. I still needed answers, not that it was likely my father would admit to anything.
“Why do you have an Inn uniform, Dad?” I asked again, my voice just as hard and unyielding as his. I was tired of being pushed around. Tired of being disregarded.
“None of your fucking business, Daisy. I'm your father. I don't owe you any explanations. I don't owe you anything.”
“You owe me twenty fucking grand. That's what you owe me.”
My father smirked, one eyebrow raised. “Prove it.”
“You know damn well I can't since you broke into my home and stole the contract.”
“You can't prove that either. The only one who has evidence of theft is me. All I have to do is talk my mother into filing charges and you'll be headed to jail. Is that what you want?”
“Grams would never do that to me,” I whispered, shock stealing my breath. She wouldn't. No way. Except…
My father cocked his head to the side, his smirk growing deeper. “I bet she would, though. If your mother and I work on her. Tell her you need to learn a lesson, that she can always drop the charges, but we need to scare you straight. And there's the matter of her missing jewelry.”
“I didn't take Grams' jewelry!” I shot to my feet, knocking my phone to the floor.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and I knew I'd lost.
I knelt to pick up my phone, locking the screen so it wouldn't stop recording when I shoved it in my pocket. I didn't have much, just threats, but it was something. At the very least, it was proof that my father was the manipulative bastard I'd always suspected he was. I tried to pick up The Inn uniform.
“Don't even fucking think about it. Just go, and think about what I said. Stay away from Royal Sawyer and the police chief. I'll give you the rest of the day off, but I expect to see you at the bakery for opening tomorrow. Otherwise, I might be forced to talk to West myself. Your grandmother was so disappointed when she saw how you'd stolen that money. When I tell her I found you here trying to take my cash and going through her jewelry box—”
I didn't wait for the rest. Leaving the uniform on the bed, I pushed past him and took off down the hall. His voice followed me. “Be smart, Daisy. Do what you're told and everything will be fine.”
Be smart. I strode back to Main Street, my mind reeling, not sure what that even meant. Be smart. How? By doing what my father told me so he could keep trying to destroy Royal and I could stay out of jail?
That might be smart by Darren Hutchins' definition, but it wasn't right. I loved Royal. More than I'd ever dreamed I could love a man. He deserved so much more than being tied to a woman like me, one whose own father had been trying to destroy his business.
What was I going to tell Royal? And West? I had to call West. I should walk straight to the police station and tell him everything. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I stopped the recording.
What did I have to tell West, anyway? The recording was mostly filled with threats against me. My father hadn'
t confessed to anything. Not really. It was my word against his. What if I went to West and I ended up in jail?
My dad was right about one thing. Technically, I'd stolen twenty thousand dollars from my grandmother.
Who was I kidding? There was no technically about it. Despite all of our plans, I was not a part-owner of the business.
I was an employee, and I'd transferred twenty thousand dollars from the business account to my own. Even if I had the contract, I'd still stolen the money. My intentions didn't matter here. That I'd thought of the money as half mine was irrelevant.
I'd taken money without permission. That was a crime. End of story.
I walked aimlessly with nowhere to go. I didn't want to be at my apartment with the two housekeepers from The Inn still working. I couldn't go see Royal, Hope wasn't home, and I had to stay away from the Sawyers until I figured this out.
I needed my car. With my car, I could go anywhere, if only for long enough to get my head together. Reluctantly, I turned in the direction of The Inn when I hit Main Street. I wasn't ready to see Royal, but my car was still there, parked in the employee lot.
And blocked in. Royal had blocked me in. His own car was parked behind mine, bumpers almost touching, leaving me no room to get out. Damn. I'd hoped to sneak away and drive until I had a chance to think. I wasn't ready to see Royal. If I wanted my car back, I had no choice.
I took the easy way out and texted him. I composed and erased the text twice before I settled on the right words.
Can you come move your car? Too annoyed.
I'm downstairs and my car is blocked in. Too distant.
Rough morning. I need to go for a drive, Clear my head. Do you mind moving your car?
Chapter Thirty-Five
royal
Rough morning. I need to go for a drive, Clear my head. Do you mind moving your car?
The words were casual, but I didn't believe them. If she’d had a rough morning, why couldn't she talk to me about it? Why go for a drive?