Sweet Dreams (The Bakery Romance Series Book 3)

by Cecelia Dowdy

  Well, she didn’t want Latisha to know that Sterling’s judgmental attitude was getting on her nerves. As soon as he’d found out that she’d dated Ace, his whole demeanor had changed. He was probably upset because she’d admitted to being just like Latisha. Well, if that bothered him, then, so be it. She couldn’t let his attitude bother her.

  But it did. Two weeks of silence was really bothering her. Yeah, she supposed she could go over to Sterling’s house, ask if he could put their differences aside and be her friend again.

  She missed him. She missed him a lot.

  At church the last couple of weeks, he’d not sat beside her. Instead, she’d spotted him in the almost empty balcony. That had been weird. Their church had a balcony that was above the sanctuary. Very few people sat up there. When she’d taken her exit last Sunday, she’d happened to look up and spot Sterling sitting up there by himself. She kept asking herself why he’d be sitting up there alone. But, her mind had come up empty.

  Adrian had noticed how quiet and despondent she’d become, but, Misty couldn’t confide that Sterling’s attitude bothered her. She didn’t even know if she were willing to admit that she was falling in love with him. Well, if she admitted it to herself, then, she could learn to take these feelings and shove them to the back of her mind. Her feelings for him would probably fade eventually, wouldn’t they?

  He probably didn’t want to accept a woman into his life who had a troubled past. Well, there was nothing she could do about that. If Sterling couldn’t accept her for who she was, then, so be it. She’d confided to Latisha that she was too busy for a relationship with Sterling right now, so, she supposed his distance towards her should be a good thing. Maybe in time, he’d stop dominating her mind.

  The phone on her desk rang, interrupting her musings. “Carman’s Law Firm.”

  “Misty Rae Stewart?”

  Misty sat up straighter in her chair, recognizing the distinctive voice of Ginger Tweed. She glanced at the display on her phone. Yes, she was right, it was Juliette’s! They would only be calling her if Jennifer had been accepted, wouldn’t they? She swallowed, tried to calm herself down. The urge to again apologize for the open house disaster was on the tip of her lips. No, she wouldn’t apologize for that yet again. If Ginger wanted to mention it, then, she was welcome to do so. “Yes, this is Misty.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that Jennifer has been accepted as a student into Juliette’s!”

  Hallelujah! Her baby had gotten into the most prestigious preschool in Miami. Her heart was beating so fast. She took a few deep breaths, took a sip of coffee. She needed to calm down before she spoke. “Oh, thank you, Ms. Tweed.”

  “You can call me Ginger. We’ll be sending a formal acceptance letter in the mail today.”

  Misty nodded, still trying to get her wits together. “Thank you.” She needed to be sure to look for that letter in the mail.

  “Oh, another thing, Ms. Stewart.”

  “Yes?”

  “We have a long waiting list. We can only keep that spot open for three months. If you don’t enroll within that timeframe, your spot will be offered to one of our wait-listed applicants. If you’re planning on seeking financial aid, then, now is the time to do it.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She finally hung up the phone, not trusting herself to speak any further. She was so excited that she doubted she could sound articulate. So, her daughter had finally gotten into Juliette’s! That was such a relief. She closed her eyes and took a few moments to day dream. She remembered when she’d first started searching for Jennifer’s pre-school. Her daughter had only been one and a half when she’d started searching. When her mother had discovered what she’d been doing, she’d not understood why Misty felt Jennifer’s school was so important. When she’d initially told her mom her dream of moving to Miami, she’d not been supportive at all.

  Misty had to make her mom promise not to tell Nate about her plans. Her mom had been totally against it, wanting her to reconcile with Nate.

  But, now she’d done it. She’d finally succeeded. Jennifer was going to Juliette’s! Again, thoughts of her daughter’s first day of preschool rushed to her mind. Jennifer would look so cute in her outfit and she’d be exposed to a wonderful learning experience. Her intelligent daughter would thrive in that environment.

  That is, if she could afford it.

  She stopped smiling and focused on her computer screen. She checked her watch. Now she just needed to again focus on the scholarship application.

  Before Nate’s death, she’d been on the verge of calling the director of the Miami soup kitchen to remind him about the letter of reference. Getting that letter of reference was the last thing she needed to do before applying for the scholarship. She opened her purse and fished out her phone. She’d programmed the director’s number into her phone shortly after she’d started volunteering in the soup kitchen. When she’d first started volunteering, she’d told the director about the letter of reference that she’d need. “Mr. Cloud? This is Misty Rae Stewart.” She went on to tell him that she needed a letter of reference regarding her soup kitchen duties.

  The older man cleared his throat. “Misty, does your letter have to be from me?”

  Her heart jumped and she clutched the phone. It sounded like he was hesitant about writing the letter. He’d seemed so enthusiastic about it when she’d first mentioned it weeks ago. Lord, please help me. She opened up the webpage for the scholarship foundation. She knew the rules by memory, but, she still wanted to be totally sure she gave Mr. Cloud the correct information. “It can be from anybody in authority within your organization.”

  “I don’t mind doing it.” She breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat that had popped onto her brow. She took another sip of coffee, glanced at the clock. She had a meeting with Carmen in five minutes, so, she needed to hurry up and finish this conversation. Maybe if Mr. Cloud wrote the letter now, she could pick it up when she left work that evening. “But, I think it might be best if Sterling Richards wrote it.”

  “Sterling?”

  “Yes, he’s the supervisor on your shift. He’s welcome to list me as the director for the program, but, I think the letter would be more effective if it came from him.”

  Dang, she was not expecting this.

  Again, her thoughts returned to Sterling Richards. She missed him. Her heart literally ached every time she thought about him. Sometimes, she’d wake up early, just to watch him get into his car and leave for work at four AM. When she happened to see his car pull in front of his house, she watched him exit his vehicle, walk into the house. She had to wonder if she was imagining the now-dejected slump to his broad shoulders. Did he miss her as much as she missed him?

  “Ms. Stewart?” Mr. Cloud’s impatient voice interrupted her thoughts. “Do you feel that Sterling would not want to write the letter for you? He already has the soup kitchen stationary. He could probably have the letter to you in no time.”

  She honestly didn’t know if Sterling wanted to write the letter. He’d not been the most supportive when they’d spoken of her dream of sending Jennifer to Juliette’s. However, although Sterling was judgmental, he was honest. He honestly couldn’t refuse to write the letter, could he?

  “I’ll ask him. I’ll let you know if we have any questions.”

  She ended the call.

  Chapter 31

  Misty glanced at the clock. Eight thirty. It wasn’t too late for her to go over to Sterling’s. Jennifer was already in bed for the night and Adrian had retired to her bedroom. This should only take a few minutes. Since the phone call with Mr. Cloud earlier that day, she’d been apprehensive about going over to Sterling’s to ask about his writing the letter. She’d even thought about calling him to ask about it.

  She’d even thought about bringing Jennifer along. She figured her daughter would act as a buffer between them. Jennifer just might sweeten Sterling’s foul mood. After thinking about it for the rest of the day, she decided the best way to
handle this would be to just ask Sterling directly. She’d go over there and talk to him. That’s what she’d do. Maybe after they talked about the letter, they could talk about the lull in their…well, the lull in their friendship.

  Friendship? She closed her eyes. What they had was more than friendship. She could finally admit that to herself now. She missed him like crazy, and she didn’t know what she’d do if he never learned to accept her with all of her flaws. Yes, his attitude made her angry, but, that didn’t change the fact that she still missed him.

  For right now, she just needed to focus, think of this as a business meeting. No need to think about how much she was attracted to him. It was quite obvious that he was no longer attracted to her.

  Well, sitting here thinking about this wasn’t getting the task done. She might as well get this over with. She left Adrian’s, locked the door and strolled over to Sterling’s house. She closed her eyes. Lord, please help me. She knocked as hard as she could. Sterling opened the door.

  He looked terrific.

  He sported some old, battered cargo shorts with holes. She had to force herself not to stare at his muscular shapely calves. He wore flip flops on his feet and a red t-shirt covered his muscular chest. The delicious scent of his cologne filled her nose, and then she forced herself to focus on his handsome face. Their eyes locked. He finally spoke. “Misty. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

  Oh, this was just great. Maybe he had company. He was probably so repulsed about her background that he’d already gone and found somebody else to spend time with. Next thing she knew, he might cancel his weekly escorting services to the soup kitchen since he didn’t want to be around her anymore. Well, if he didn’t, then so be it. She’d learn to accept it and move on. She’d been through worse situations.

  He gestured inside. “Come on in.”

  She stepped into the house, still struggling with what to say. She looked around. Okay, good, it appeared that he was alone. The TV was tuned to one of those reality shows. Sterling walked through the living room and right into his kitchen. A lump of dough sat on the counter, and for the first time, she noticed his large hands were covered with flour. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You’re making bread?”

  He slowly nodded. “Have a seat.”

  She perched on the chair, still determined not to stay for a long time. He continued working the dough, kneading it. The beautiful muscles in his arms flexed as he did the chore. She stared at the strong plane of his back – there was just something so domesticated and beautiful about him standing in his kitchen, working that dough. It was probably one of the most beautiful sites she’d ever seen. “Kneading dough helps calm me down when I’m upset,” he explained, his back still turned to her.

  “What are you upset about?”

  He finally turned around, looked directly into her eyes. “You.”

  Floored, she didn’t know how to respond. Maybe he still had feelings for her after all. He was the one who’d seemed interested in their having a relationship when they’d dined at the ice cream parlor. Did he still feel that way, in spite of the silence he’d given her over the last two weeks? Her brain became so full of things, too many things, she couldn’t focus on what she needed to say. Instead, she continued watching him work the dough. Minutes later, he plopped two white loaves into the oven, set the timer. “It’ll be done in about an hour. I could bring a loaf over to you and Adrian if you’d like.”

  She nodded. The idea of fresh bread sounded appealing. She and Adrian could eat it with butter and some of Adrian’s homemade preserves. With a start, she realized she’d never visited Sterling in his bakery. She could probably take Jennifer with her. Her daughter would love looking at all those sweets. She shook the thought away. She didn’t come over here to talk about bread. She needed to stay focused. “I have to talk to you about something important.”

  “Hold on. Let me wash this flour off my hands.”

  At the kitchen sink, he washed his hands. He seemed to take an awfully long time doing the chore, but, she figured she was just being impatient. She was just anxious to get this conversation over with so that she could rush back home. Finally, he was done washing his hands. He joined her at the table, stretched his long muscular legs in front of him. “Man, what a week.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if something had happened between him and his brother. But, she pushed the thought out of her mind. He probably didn’t want her to ask too many questions right now. He probably wanted to be alone, watching TV while his bread baked in the oven. She sniffed. The faint scent of baking bread seeped into the kitchen. It smelled delicious. She was surprised she could smell the bread baking already. It’d only been in the oven for a few minutes.

  “I need you to write me a letter.”

  He raised his thick eyebrows, his chocolate brown eyes startled. “A letter for what?”

  In a rushed voice, she explained her recent conversation with Mr. Cloud. “So, you see, I need to get a letter from you about my service in the food kitchen.”

  He gave her a brief, curt nod. “I’ll have it for you in the morning.”

  Goodness, she didn’t realize he’d do it that quickly. “Are you sure?”

  “I know how much you want to get Jennifer into that school.”

  “But, she’s already in.”

  “What? When was she accepted?”

  “I just found out today. Now I have to finish the whole process up by applying for this scholarship.”

  “Yes, and once you get this scholarship and Jennifer is in that school, then everything will be okay.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Trying to figure you out.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve been thinking about how you were raised, your getting food from a soup kitchen when you were younger. Being poor.”

  She tilted her head. Where was he going with this? “So, what about it?”

  “You don’t want to get Jennifer into that school because of the educational value. You want to get her into Juliette’s so that you can feel better about yourself.”

  “Sterling, that’s a horrible thing to say.” She stood up. No way did she have to stay here and listen to this garbage. “How could you say such a thing?”

  “Misty, it’s true.” He softened his voice, and her heart skipped when he took her hand. “Don’t lose your temper. Listen to me. You keep saying that Jennifer is just as good as those rich kids attending that school. Well, you’re right, she is. Both you and Jennifer are just as good as the people attending that school. But, you want to get her into that school because you really don’t believe you are as good as those rich people. Her attending that school would prove to you that you may be just as good as they are.” He continued studying her with his sexy brown eyes. “But, honey, you don’t need that school to prove to yourself that you’re as good as the rich crowd. God loves you just as much, no matter if you’re rich or poor.”

  “I know that,” she said in a small voice.

  “I think you know that with your head, but you don’t know that with your heart. You feel that you’re not as good as those rich people.” He scooted his chair closer, continued holding her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just think about what I’ve said.” Whoa, this was too much. She needed to get out of here. She pulled her hand away.

  “Just let me know when my letter is ready.”

  She hurried back go Adrian’s. Misty tossed and turned all night, thinking about Sterling’s words. Had she really thought that acceptance into Juliette’s was proof that she was just as good as those upper class folks? Around four AM, she heard footsteps outside their front door. Seconds later, she heard a car driving away. Sterling must’ve gone to work. Curious she rolled out of bed, walked to the front door. She peered out the peephole. Nobody there. She opened the door,
spotting a small open box containing a fresh loaf of bread. Beside the bread was an envelope addressed to the Sarah Wilkins Scholarship Foundation.

  Chapter 32

  Sterling placed the huge tray of cinnamon rolls into the oven and set the timer. Sweat rolled down his face. He glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. It was Monday night and the bakery was closed, but, he needed to work with some dough, knead it out, work out his frustrations. He’d been experimenting with a new cinnamon roll recipe. Being in his bakery alone, with no assistants or customers, proved therapeutic.

  The pounding knock on the front door of the bakery startled him. He rushed to the front, spotted Louis outside. He unlocked the door and his brother stepped inside, sniffing. “Smells good in here.”

  “Thanks. Thought I’d come in when my bakery’s closed and do some experimenting.”

  His brother dropped into a chair, wiped his hand over his face. “You didn’t answer your cell or your house phone. I figured you were here.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “No, I just wanted some company.”

  Sterling plopped into a chair beside his brother. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  “Well, Aunt June called me.”

  “Really?”

  Louis nodded. “Yeah, she said she wanted to know how Leon was doing. She seems upset that you and Leon haven’t been getting along.”

  Sterling shrugged. He highly doubted Aunt June could do anything to solve their problems. “Did she say anything else?”

  “She’s talking about coming up to visit again.”

  This was surprising. “Really? When?” His dad’s funeral had only been a few months ago. Seemed like it was too soon for his Aunt June to return for another visit.

  Louis shrugged. “She didn’t say when. It just seems weird to be hearing from her since she never talked to us very much.”

  Sterling agreed with him. He wasn’t sure what else he could say about their Aunt June’s sudden concern for their welfare.