Jeffrey looked at Viola in surprise.
“Go on, say something,” she challenged him.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“You’re learning.”
He shook his head in bemusement and walked over to talk to a cluster of women who were clustered around the edible lingerie rack. They lit up when Jeffrey walked over to them and he was immediately swallowed up by the crowd of women, who giggled and flipped their hair.
Just like Rafe, Jeffrey’s good looks and easy charm was like catnip to the women.
And speaking of Rafe…he’d left Poppy his cell phone number earlier, with stern instructions to call him immediately in case of emergency. Grabbing her cell phone from her purse, Poppy called Rafe to tell him about the fires.
“I can not believe how much your sister has lied to you,” Rafe gritted in frustration. “You need to find out what else she’s not telling you. In fact, I’m coming with you tonight when you go visit her.”
“You don’t have to-“ but Poppy was speaking to a dead connection.
He came back to the office mid-afternoon. Jeffrey grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
“Thank you for buying us lunch, even if you are an uptight capitalist tool of the establishment with a bitchy fiancée,” Viola said, with a jaunty wave of sparkly blue fingernails.
He made a gallant half bow. “Thank you for not harming any portions of my body, or biting me and giving me rabies.”
Viola bared white teeth in a savage grin. “I charge extra for that. And I’ve had all my shots.”
And she headed back into the bakery to get more cock cannolis, which had been selling briskly all morning.
Jeffrey scowled, and hurried out of the store.
“Thank God you got back before they killed each other!” Poppy groaned.
Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “They’re going to go at it like bunnies.”
Poppy was so shocked, her mouth dropped open, and she found herself literally at a loss for words for several seconds.
“I’m sorry, what?” she finally spluttered. “You so do not know my friend! He is the opposite of her type!”
He just grinned maddeningly. “I know human nature.”
When closing time came, he helped them lock up, then steered Poppy to his car, which was parked down the block from the bakery. “Time to have a little chat with your sister.”
Chapter Ten
At the hospital, when they reached Penelope’s floor, they heard angry shouts coming from down the hall.
Poppy instinctively headed towards the shouting, with Rafe following on her heels.
Where there was trouble, there was inevitably Penelope, she’d found over the years.
Sure enough, there were two men standing outside in the hallway, shoving each other and shouting.
One of them wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and black motorcycle boots. The other man was a handsome, preppy blond with wavy hair, khakis, and a striped green designer polo shirt.
“Get the hell out, loser!” the polo shirt guy was screaming.
“Terry! Alistair! Stop it, please, stop it!” Penelope wailed from inside her room.
Motorcycle-man took a wild swing at Preppy-boy, before a male nurse tackled him and dragged him off.
Penelope was cringing in her hospital bed, clutching a giant stuffed teddy bear and crying, chest heaving, streams of mascara running down her face. She made giant gulping sounds as if she were struggling for breath, and Poppy rushed past the two shouting men in to the room, alarmed.
“Penelope, my God, are you all right? Can you breathe? Calm down, honey, take a breath.”
“Poppy!” Penelope wailed when she rushed in. “You can’t see me like this…you just can’t! Who is that man with you? I don’t want anybody to see me like this! Get out, everyone get out, get OUT!”
In the hallway, security guards had arrived and were hustling the two angry men onto separate elevators.
Penelope made gagging sounds. “I’m going to throw up!”
Poppy frantically looked around the room for a container, and grabbed the small plastic trash can by her sister’s bed, handing it to her.
Penelope hunched over it, heaving. “Get…out!” she gasped.
Rafe turned to Poppy. “Clearly, your sister is too upset to talk,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. The look on his face was far too sincere; he was up to something.
He turned to Penelope. “I look forward to meeting you some other time,” he said, and then quickly rushed Poppy out of the room and down the hall towards the elevator.
“You gave up awfully easy,” she said suspiciously.
He smiled cryptically and shook his head. “You’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
Rafe led Poppy down to the cafeteria where he bought them both dinner, which was served on plastic trays. They carried their trays over to formica tables, bathed with the glare of fluorescent lights.
A surly janitor pushed a mop across the floor near them, sending clouds of disinfectant-scented air wafting their way.
Poppy pushed at the mysterious brown meat on her tray, looking at it apprehensively. “Do you happen to know what they do with people who die here and never get claimed? Because I’m just saying, this doesn’t look like beef, doesn’t look like chicken…”
“Best not to think about these things. Next time, order the pasta,” Rafe grinned, scooping up a forkful of mushy noodles and chewing them.
Poppy pushed her tray away from her, then looked up at Rafe. “You know, I just realized you know all about me, and I don’t know much about you at all. Why did you leave the police force?”
He set his fork down, his face suddenly serious. “My father was a sheriff’s captain. He was shot to death pursuing a suspect. My mother begged me to quit the force afterwards, right before she died of a heart attack. That was a year ago.”
Poppy gasped, a wave of sorrow washing over her. “I’m sorry, Rafe! I shouldn’t have asked.”
His answering smile was tinged with regret. “It’s all right. I’m proud of both my parents; I just don’t bring it up in casual conversation.”
“What do you do now, for work?”
She saw the faintest flicker in his gaze, then he looked down and loaded more pasta on his fork. “My uncle owns an international security company. I work for him.”
It seemed like a subject he didn’t really want to get into, which was odd, because he struck her as a person who was passionate and opinionated about life in general. Like the kind of person who’d love to talk about his job. But maybe he didn’t enjoy his new job that much; he probably just did it out of a sense of obligation to his late mother.
He glanced down at his pasta. “Okay, it’s been long enough. Unless you want more mystery meat.”
Poppy shuddered.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
“Let’s go then. I think your sister’s had enough time to recover.”
“Are you sure? She seemed really upset…” Poppy hesitated, but Rafe was already up and moving, heading towards the stairwell which led up to Penelope’s floor.
They climbed four flights, with Rafe leading the way and Poppy trailing behind, admiring how his jeans hugged his muscled thighs and firm, round butt cheeks.
When they reached the top flight, they stopped, and Rafe turned to face Poppy. He wasn’t even breathing hard; Poppy was, but it was only partly from the climb.
She wanted him to grab her again and press his body against hers, to claim her mouth again with a hot kiss. Did he feel the same way about her? Or was she being a fool thinking that he really wanted her?
He slid a finger under her chin, gently, oh so gently, and tipped her head up to look at him. His touch sent a wave of warmth rushing through her body, and his gaze pierced her soul, as if he could see her innermost thoughts and fears.
His voice was low and strong and urgent, rumbling from his chest. “I want you to be strong when you go in there. Your sister
put your life at risk, and your best friend’s life at risk, by not telling you about the vandalism and the attacks at the store. You need to find out everything she knows, because she might hold the key to catching this person.”
Poppy nodded, taking a deep breath, and followed him down the hallway. Since they were on the back side of the hallway, they weren’t passing the nurse’s station, and they were able to make it to Penelope’s room unannounced.
The motorcycle-jacket guy was back, sitting next to Penelope on her bed. Penelope had experienced a miraculous recovery in the short time that Poppy and Rafe had been downstairs. She had washed her face, fixed her makeup, and her boyfriend had his arm slung around her shoulder, and they were looking at pictures on her cell phone and giggling.
When Poppy and Rafe walked in, she looked up at them and her smile froze and then faded. Warring emotions battled on her face. Anger, shock, indecision – Poppy could guess the thoughts racing through her head. How was she going to play this off?
Motorcycle jerk leaped to his feet, glaring at them. Before he could say a word, Rafe snapped “Get out,” looking him square in the eye, his face like stone and his eyes cold as ice.
For just a moment, it looked as if Penelope’s lover was going to challenge him, but then his shoulders slumped and he rushed past Rafe and Poppy and hurried out of the room without looking back.
“Terry, wait, wait! Don’t leave me!” Penelope wailed, tears welling in her eyes.
When he didn’t rush back to her rescue, she turned to Poppy, and now tears were spilling down her cheeks and she was gulping in distress, about to descend into another full on hysterical crying jag.
“Poppy, oh my God, I-“
“Penelope, cut it the hell out.”
Penelope stopped crying instantly, jaw dropping in shock. She and Rafe both stared at Poppy, astounded by the uncharacteristic flare of temper and profanity. But Poppy was red hot with anger, years of frustration boiling up in her and finally bubbling over.
“Don’t even bother with the tears, because you can turn on the waterworks like you turn on a faucet, and we both know it. You have a lot of explaining to do. Not only did you risk my job and my law school scholarship by tricking me into working at a bakery full of obscene carbohydrates, you risked my life and Viola’s life by not telling me that some psycho was targeting the bakery.”
“I am in my hospital bed! I’m in pain!” Penelope’s eyes glittered with angry tears, but she didn’t try to manufacture another sobbing fit. “I don’t have to listen to these outrageous accusations.
“And I don’t have to run your bakery for you.”
“Fine,” Penelope muttered. “I’ll get someone else to run it.”
“Good luck with finding someone who will really care about helping the business succeed, and who won’t rob you blind, from your hospital bed. And I’ll tell you this, even if you can find someone else that you trust to run Sweet Surrender, I will make sure that they know everything, because otherwise, their lives will be in danger just like mine is now. I will tell them about the vandalism, the tire slashing, the fact that whoever ran you down in the street was probably the same person doing the vandalism, and the fact that someone broke into your apartment while I was there and threatened me. And they used the same language that was on the graffiti on the outside of the store, so it is obviously the same person.”
“I-what? Someone broke in?” Penelope’s cornflower blue eyes widened in shock.
Her face crumpled. “Poppy, I’m sorry. I sank every cent I had into that place, and it was starting to do really well, and finally I was doing something right, and then all that stuff started happening. I knew if I told you what was going on, you wouldn’t help me, and I’d lose everything and I’d be broke and homeless.”
She started to sob, shoulders heaving, and Poppy flashed back to when they were little and Penelope was locked in her room, crying hopelessly, and their mother stood glaring in the doorway, blocking Poppy’s attempts to rush out and comfort her.
Poppy started towards Penelope, wanting to throw her arms around her, to hug her and tell her that she’d fix everything and it was all right, she wasn’t angry at her – and then Rafe punched her in the arm and shot her an exasperated look.
Poppy shook her head, and the clouds cleared from her mind, and she could see clearly again.
Damn, Penelope was good. She knew exactly how to push her sister’s buttons.
“Poppy. Cut it the fuck out.” She spit out the crude language in a deliberate attempt to shake her sister out of her fake histrionics.
Poppy gasped and stared at her, face pinched with fury, like a toddler trying to steal cookies from a jar that had been placed out of her reach. Her tears dried up instantly, as if by magic. Her gaze shuttled back and forth between Poppy and Rafe.
She’d always had two fallback solutions to dealing with the messes she dumped in Poppy’s lap – cry hysterically or run away and hide out for a few months, until Poppy was so frantic with worry that she forgave everything and practically wept with relief that Penelope had resurfaced.
Now crying wasn’t working and she was trapped in a hospital bed, unable to run anywhere.
And clearly she hated it.
“Who’s your new boyfriend?” she spit out, a sneer twisting her pretty lips. She didn’t need to say what her tone implied – obviously this couldn’t be Poppy’s boyfriend, because Poppy could never land a man like that.
It was true. Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even having sex with Poppy, and Poppy had made it quite clear she was willing.
Poppy flinched, despite herself, and Penelope smiled a small, cruel smile, knowing her jab had found its target.
“I know I’ve seen him before,” Penelope said, raking him with triumphant smirk. “And why is he here?”
“I’m here because I care about Poppy. I live right next to the bakery. And that’s all you need to know; we’re asking the questions, not you. Is there anything else that you haven’t told your sister?” Rafe gritted out.
Penelope’s spiteful smile faded. “Nope,” she said sullenly, plucking at the edge of her bed sheet with long, slim fingers.
“Anything at all? Any little thing? It could be what helps the police crack the case.”
“I said no.” But Penelope wasn’t meeting their gaze.
“Penelope, if I find out that there’s more that you haven’t told us, I swear to God I will walk out of the bakery in the middle of the day and leave the door wide open, and never look back. You will most definitely lose everything. Don’t think I’m bluffing.” Poppy speared Penelope with a gaze like ice.
Penelope shrugged. “There was a letter,” she said, pulling a loose thread from the edge of the bedspread and unraveling it. “It was no big deal.”
“What did the letter say?” Poppy snapped.
“Oh, just stuff like, get out while you still can, you jezebel whore, repent or burn, scarlet woman. I got pissed off and shoved it behind the file drawer in my office.”
So that’s why the stupid file drawer was stuck.
“Gee, that would have been nice to know about before I decided to come manage the bakery,” Poppy said between clenched teeth, squeezing her hands into fists so hard that they turned white.
Penelope didn’t look up at her. “Are you done?”
“I’m very done.” Poppy said, her cold, calm voice hiding the hurt and anger that raged inside her. “I told you I would run the bakery for the summer. I always keep my promises; you know that. And I also promise you this; as soon as you’re better, I walk away for good, and do not even think about calling me the next time you get yourself in trouble. If you choose to keep in touch with me, fine, if not, also fine, but don’t call me to bail you out ever again.”
“I should have known you’d abandon me,” Penelope spit, eyes snapping with fury. “You want me to fail. You’re just like mom.”
“I’m nothing like our mother,” Poppy said wearily, and she spun on her heel a
nd walked out of the room, with Rafe right behind her.
When she got to the elevator, he threw open his arms, and she sagged into him, all the strength drained from her body.
“Are you okay?” he said. “Are you feeling like the queen of the world? Because I’ve got to tell you, that was magnificent.”
She forced a smile. “I actually feel like throwing up, but I also feel an amazing lightness now. I really don’t have to spend every waking minute worrying about Penelope’s next disaster, do I?”
“Never again.” His arms folded around her, warm and strong, and she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.
Now that she no longer had to worry about being Penelope’s fulltime bail officer, she only had one little problem to deal with: the psycho who was stalking the bakery and who very likely wanted to kill her.
Chapter Twelve
“Don’t say it,” Poppy scowled at Viola over the bakery counter.
Rafe had spent the night at her house again, chastely. They’d ordered in pizza and wings, and watched an old movie on Rafe’s laptop, and then Poppy had tossed and turned all night, drifting in and out of sleep, waking up exhausted and frustrated in a tangle of sheets. She hoped she hadn’t moaned in her sleep. Or begged Rafe for sex.
“What? That you guys should just hurry up and do it already?”
“Yeah, that. Don’t say it.”
Smashwords version Sweet Surrender Page 6