by Ali Parker
I laughed and walked up to the table displaying a variety of stands to show off baked goods.
Penny and I were shopping for some materials for the bakery. A new display case or even a new cake stand wasn’t on our shopping list—or in our budget—but I would humor her for now. “I’m not sure a cake stand has a vibe.”
Penny looked at me, her green eyes wide with disbelief. “Of course a cake stand has a vibe. Imagine walking into a fancy high tea party and seeing one of those pop-up cardboard cupcake stands made for kiddies’ parties. It’s a disaster.”
“You and I have two very different definitions of what constitutes a disaster.” I lifted my hands and started counting down on my fingers. “Three quick examples of disasters off the top of my head would be a hurricane, traffic making you late for a job interview or buying the most awesome dress only to have it shrink on the first wash.”
“You’re comparing those three things to each other?” Penny’s eyes were lit up in amusement, but her brow was furrowed. “Personally, I don’t think a hurricane compares to a dress that shrank, but to each their own.”
“I didn’t compare them; I simply said they were each an example of something I would classify as a disaster. The point was that the incorrect use of a kids’ cupcake stand at a fancy tea party isn’t a disaster.”
Penny rolled her eyes and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll just have to educate you on the meaning of a disaster in the baking world. Here’s your first lesson: The stand you use matters more than you know.”
“I thank you for imparting your wisdom, oh great one.” I pressed my palms together and gave a little bow. Penny burst out laughing, and I joined her a beat later. Being silly with a friend felt good after having to be serious all the time for so long.
When our laughter subsided, Penny’s gaze was back on the tall stand. “Seriously though, what do you think about this one?”
“I think you’d have to be getting in functions of nearly a hundred people to need enough cake per order to justify that stand.” The thing was almost as tall as I was if you counted the sharp glass spire on top of it.
It looked like it could double as a weapon if you needed to defend yourself at a particularly rowdy wedding or birthday party. It also cost almost as much as our entire budget for the day allowed. “We just don’t need that kind of equipment yet. If need be, you can also rent one that size for the time being.”
I hated telling Penny no, but someone had to, and I was the only one with her. She slid her gaze away from the stand to meet mine, the longing in her eyes making me feel a sharp stab in the heart. “Think of how beautiful it would look if we added some sparkle and one of my vanilla sponge cakes to it.”
Closing my eyes for a fraction of a second, I opened them and made sure to look Penny right in the eye. “We just can’t afford it right now, and we really don’t have any use for it. It has five tiers. No one has a wedding that big around here.”
“I got an order from a bride in Savannah the other day.” Penny’s voice was laced with hope, and the same emotion flared in her eyes. “I’ve also been thinking that we have to start looking into expanding.”
I felt my eyes widen even though I didn’t mean for them to. “Expanding? We have money in the company, but not that kind of money. Especially not if expanding means buying cake stands that cost that much money each.”
It killed me to have to be the one to crush the ambitious hope she was radiating, but it was what it was. Casting one last longing look at the stand, she sighed and headed in the direction of the sprinkles. “You’re right. This is the place making the real money. Maybe I should start designing and building my own stands.”
“We’d still have to come here to pick up the rest of the materials we need.” It was a sad reality, but it was still a reality. Penny and I could start building our own cake stands to our hearts’ content, but we’d still never be able to get away from needing a store like this one to get whatever else we needed.
This was the only store of its kind in the county. There were similar ones in Savannah, but this one was bigger and better. It was a kind of one-stop-shop for everything necessary for those who operated in the culinary or hospitality industry.
The store’s counterparts in the city didn’t hold a candle to it. Each one of them had its own specialty, whereas we could get everything we needed in this one. It had everything from kitchen implements and equipment, to vases and décor, to dry ingredients like the delicious Parmesan sprinkles Penny used in her muffins.
Why the shop was located on the outer edge of Cypress Creek, I didn’t know. I would have expected to find it somewhere more densely populated, but there were always people milling around, and it seemed busy enough.
We stopped in an aisle lined with hundreds of tubs of sprinkles and Penny consulted the shopping list before she started loading up the cart. It was slow going to find all the different types she had on her list.
By the time we reached the end of the aisle, my feet ached, and my stomach grumbled. I added the last of the tubs I had been assigned to find to the cart. “I think it’s time for a lunch break.”
Penny’s gaze was locked on the shelf in front of her. “Sure. I’m almost done. We can grab a bite at the café next door before we head back.”
“What else do you need to get?”
She lifted up the shopping list and squinted at it, her finger running down the items on it. “Two more packs of piping bags, another large muffin tray, and a basket.”
“What do we need the basket for?”
“I want to wrap cookies individually and sell them at the cash register.” She plucked a tub from the shelf with a triumphant grin. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s move on to the next aisle.”
I fell into step beside her as we rounded the corner and stopped short when I saw two men lingering outside a nondescript door marked ‘Office.’
A pit formed in my stomach. They were the same suited men who had followed me to the bookstore. They weren’t looking in my direction today, though. They were standing like silent sentinels on either side of the door with their eyes straight ahead.
My eyes darted from side to side as I tried to determine what the quickest, easiest way would be to get away from them before they spotted me. I decided to go right since that was the direction of the exit. I could always tell Penny I’d meet her at the café.
Before I could open my mouth or make my move, the door they were guarding opened. My heart rate sped up so much and started hammering so hard, it was a wonder Penny couldn’t hear it. Feet rooted to the spot, my toes and fingers went ice cold.
Move! My brain commanded, but my body couldn’t obey. This was like watching a train speeding toward derailment and not being able to do anything to stop it. The notable difference was that I was the one about to be hit by the freaking thing.
Almost as if it was happening in slow motion, I watched the man who came out of the office lifting his eyes to land on mine. The shock from making eye contact with the last pair of eyes on the planet I would have expected to come walking out of that office ricocheted through me.
There was no way he could have known I was here, but a chilling smirk settled on his lips as he walked right up to me. “Eve, this is a surprise. How are you doing?”
My voice caught in my throat. Whatever air was in my lungs from my previous breath was trapped there. Forcing myself to relax, I exhaled and pulled myself together. I wasn’t the same girl he remembered. I was stronger now, capable of facing him without letting him see me tremble. “I’m very well, Ken. We were just leaving, actually.”
I reached blindly for Penny’s arm and tugged on it, propelling us forward. She pushed the cart, frowning over her shoulder as she looked back. “What’s up with you? We’re not leaving yet. We still need the piping bags and stuff.”
My body and mind felt numb, but somehow I managed to nod. “Okay, let’s grab them and go. I’m starving, that’s all.”
Penny’s brows were
still furrowed by the time we sat down in the café. My appetite had completely disappeared, and I was sure even one bite of food would make me nauseous, but since being hungry had been my excuse to get out of the store at double speed, I sucked it up and ordered a salad.
My best friend wasn’t fooled. As soon as the waiter delivered our water and walked away, she lowered her voice and leaned forward across the table. “Who was that man?”
“No one.” I waved my hand dismissively. I only hoped she didn’t see the way it trembled regardless of how nonchalant I was trying to come across as.
Arching an eyebrow, she sat back and crossed her thin arms. “I call bullshit. Who was he?”
“He was just an old business partner.” I shrugged, curling my fingers and pretending to study my nails. “Nothing more.”
Mentally crossing my fingers, I wondered how many white lies a person was allowed before they became nothing more than a liar.
Chapter Nineteen
Tyson
“The defendant refused to take a breathalyzer test on the scene. We might not be able to use his refusal as evidence in these proceedings after the Supreme Court ruling, but I would argue that in this case, we wouldn’t have needed it anyway.”
The attorney for the defendant glared at me, shaking his head. I resisted the urge to flip him off. If the guy thought his personal reactions were going to make a damn bit of difference to the judge when she sentenced the drunk he was representing, he was dead wrong.
“He failed the field sobriety test.” I pointed at the defendant with a sharp, stabbing motion of my index finger. “You’ve heard the evidence from two police officers that they smelled alcohol on him when he was pulled over and that he was rude, argumentative and slurring his words. He also spent an obscene amount of money—”
“Your honor, I object to Mr. Lovett’s use of the word obscene. It’s inflammatory.”
“The people submitted the defendant’s credit card statement as Exhibit B, Your Honor.” I looked down at the open file in front of me and shuffled through it until I found my copy of the statement. “He spent over four hundred dollars in less than two hours. I would say the use of the word obscene is justified.”
“He’s already explained that.” My opponent was still on his feet, his client sitting beside him smoothing his tie like he was about to conduct a business meeting. Scumbag. “Mr. George was out with colleagues. They were celebrating a birthday, and he paid for everyone.”
“And yet you weren’t able to produce a single witness to corroborate that.” I doubted the judge needed a reminder of that fun fact, but I gave it to her anyway because I wanted to drive the point home. “On the evidence in front of you, Your Honor, you have no choice but to convict Mr. George of driving under the influence.”
The judge lifted a perfectly manicured dark eyebrow. She was one of the older, more respected judges in the country and she had a reputation for keeping lawyers on tight leashes. “Excuse me, Mr. Lovett, but did I just hear you tell me I didn’t have a choice in the matter?”
Crap. I was so on edge I hadn’t even realized I’d said that. “The evidence before you is compelling, Your Honor. That was all I meant.”
She slid her glasses to the tip of her nose and gave me a warning look before pushing them back and picking up the statement I had referred her to. “You may continue.”
“As I was saying, Your Honor, the defendant claims to have been paying for a whole lot of people and yet he couldn’t produce one witness to testify to that. Surely if he was such a kind-hearted soul—”
“Mr. Lovett.” The judge gave me another look, narrowing her eyes. “You know better than to use such a demeaning tone in my courtroom.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been warned twice in one hearing. The judge was being so damn sensitive today. Callista must be going soft in her old age.
“There are no witnesses to corroborate Mr. George’s version. Consider it noted and move on.” Her voice was stern.
“It was broad daylight when the defendant was pulled over. There was a school on the next block. Children could have been hurt.”
“But they weren’t.” My annoying opponent was on his feet again. “Let’s keep in mind that no one was hurt, Your Honor.”
“Maybe there was no one hurt this time, Your Honor, but the people are of the opinion that an example needs to be made here. The defendant was pulled over barely an hour after the final bell rang for the day. If it hadn’t been for the diligent work of the police force in setting up roadblocks that day, a child very well might have been hit.”
“But a child wasn’t hit,” my idiotic opponent reiterated and released an exasperated sigh.
I shot him a look, making sure that he saw me roll my eyes at his theatrics. “We have to set a strict precedent here, Your Honor. Driving under the influence is the leading cause of death on our roads. If the defendant is convicted, the people seek the maximum penalty to be imposed.”
“That’s ridiculous,” my opponent burst out, speaking before he was even fully on his feet this time. Amateur hour. “This is Mr. George’s first offense, Your Honor.”
“The maximum penalties still apply to first offenses.” This guy was such a dimwit. Not for the first time since the hearing started, I wondered when and where he had graduated from law school.
They really had to be dropping the standards if they produced guys like this now. “In fact, our law makes specific provision for more severe maximum penalties when it’s a second or third offense. Would you like me to get you a criminal law textbook? If memory serves, the explanations in there are quite easy to comprehend. It’s written so much simpler than in the Criminal Codes.”
“Mr. Lovett!” Judge Malik hardly ever raised her voice. I didn’t think I’d ever heard her speak so loudly. “That’s enough. I’m calling a ten-minute recess.”
“But, Your Honor—” I was just starting to get to the good part.
She lifted an elegant, long-fingered hand and pulled her glasses off with the other. “I said that was enough, Mr. Lovett. It’s obvious you’re upset and in a terrible mood, but whatever is going on with you, get it under control. You have ten minutes.”
Fuck.
The defendant pushed to his feet, an arrogant smirk on his face. Even my opponent looked pleased with himself. Just you wait, asshole. I’m going to wipe the floor with you when we get back.
I heard the few onlookers in the gallery get to their feet. The judge stood and briefly met my eyes before exiting through the side door. I saw questions reflected in her piercing gaze I didn’t want to answer.
Maybe she was right. I was in a piss poor mood. To be fair, I was still reeling from finding out that a new hearing had been set in my father’s case from a fucking reporter. I should have been notified through the proper channels, but I’d double and triple checked. There was nothing.
Forget about it for now. Sooner or later, I would find out how I hadn’t known about the hearing before I got blindsided by Ike.
For today, though, I had to focus on Mr. George and getting him convicted. Just because I was in a bad mood didn’t mean he should get away with driving so drunk the officers told me he had literally fallen out of his car after they pulled him over.
Gathering up my papers, I shoved them back into the file I’d pulled them out of as I’d needed them throughout the course of the hearing. The recess the judge had called might only be for ten minutes, but there was no way I was leaving my notes in the courtroom unattended.
I was also definitely not staying behind with the defendant and his attorney. Tucking the folder under my arm, I turned and walked out of the building. Some fresh air was just what I needed to clear my head.
The air outside the courthouse smelled like hot dogs from the cart down the street, greenery and exhaust fumes. I could have done without the fumes, but the court was on the main street running through downtown. It was unavoidable.
Leaning against a bric
k pillar, I took a deep breath and tipped my head back. The sun warmed my face, and while it was too hot to stand like this for long, it was nice for a couple of minutes.
“Mr. Lovett,” an unfamiliar voice said from my right. I turned toward it, seeing a man around my father’s age standing with his hands in the pockets of his expensive slacks. I didn’t know who he was, but he certainly knew me. “I’m so glad I ran into you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of a hearing. If you need to speak to me about something, make an appointment with my office.” I had no interest in making small talk with a random stranger during the only ten minutes I would have to myself today.
My mind was already drifting back to the list of meetings Nick had set up for this afternoon. If I made it back from court in good time, we were starting a deposition within an hour of the end of this hearing.
“Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?” The man spoke up again, seemingly unaffected by my obvious disinterest in making conversation with him. “I see you’re enjoying being out in the sunshine.”
“One of the drawbacks of being in court or in the office all the time is the lack of time spent outside.” I pushed away from the pillar and nodded, giving the man a tight smile before I walked away.
I didn’t realize he was following me until I heard him speak again. “Are you upset about your father’s hearing, Mr. Lovett? At least you still get to spend some time in the sun. I don’t believe he has the same privilege very often. He must be looking forward to that when he gets out.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What did you just say to me?”
Pivoting on the balls of my feet to face him, I felt my jaw tighten. The graying streaks in the man’s hair shimmered in the sunlight. The way the light hit him caused a shadow to fall over the lower half of his face, but I could see the cruel grin that spread on his lips as he took in my expression.