Sweet Trouble (17 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Love Stories, #Domestic Fiction, #Sisters

BOOK: Sweet Trouble
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He shook his head. “I’ll buy something. What’s the safest car out there? A Volvo? I’ll do some research online.”

Now she sat up. “Matt, you don’t have to buy a car to take Gabe out. That’s crazy.”

“Why? He’s my son. I’ll be seeing more of him. I need a safe car. I’ll get one this week.”

Of course he would. Because for him, buying a new car was as much an expense as her picking up a pack of gum.

She slid back down in the bed and sighed. Everything was different. On the surface it all looked familiar, but that was an illusion. They’d all changed and pretending otherwise didn’t alter reality.

She’d had a baby with Matt, had just made love with him and still she didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was thinking, what he wanted, what he needed, what made him laugh, what he resented. He was a stranger with a familiar face, nothing more. No matter what her heart kept telling her, she had to remember that.

“Jesse?”

“Hmm?” She turned toward him.

He rolled toward her and kissed her. A slow kiss that reminded her of how it used to be. A kiss that made her wonder and maybe even hope.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in his bed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“CHECK THE OVENS,” JESSE called Monday morning as she carried in a stack of boxes and set them in the rear of the kitchen they’d rented. It was smaller than they were used to, but only a short-term solution. A restaurant had closed and the owner was renting to them until a new tenant was found, but for now, it was enough.
Sid opened the top oven door and checked the temperature. “We’re on,” he said. “Four hundred.”

“Great.” Ovens that worked were the most important thing.

“Where do you want these?” Jasper asked, carrying in two laptop boxes.

“Out front,” Jesse said. “We’ll take orders and do shipping in the front of the restaurant.” Why not? They didn’t need the tables and chairs for anything else. It would give them the space to spread out and keep the kitchen clear for baking. “Are the phones working?”

Jasper picked up the receiver. “We have a dial tone,” he yelled.

“The phone company said they’d be forwarding calls by nine.” Jesse glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty. “Call the old number and see if the referral is working yet.”

Jasper began to dial.

Jesse moved around the rented kitchen, energized by the work and the possibilities. Once the rest of their supplies were inventoried, they could start baking. Brownies would go out that day. Tomorrow, someone on the other side of the country would taste one of her brownies and his or her life would change forever. At least that was the plan.

“Controlled chaos,” Nicole said as she leaned against the counter and looked around.

Jesse nodded, not sure what to say. So far her sister hadn’t talked very much. She seemed to be staying out of the setup. Was that because she was giving Jesse a chance to prove herself or was this more about being pissed off? Jesse wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“We had our delivery this morning,” Jesse told her. “I did a preliminary check and everything seems to be here. You saw the shipping supplies. We have our first pickup this afternoon.”

Nicole frowned. “What are you talking about? What pickup?”

“For our orders.”

“How can we have orders?”

Jesse didn’t understand the question. “I told you the Web site went up yesterday.”

“I know that, but we already have orders? Is that possible?”

Jesse laughed. “It’s beyond possible. Come on. I’ll show you.”

She led the way to the front of the restaurant to where D.C. had opened the boxes and was setting up the two laptops they’d already bought. Jesse walked over to her computer, sat down and typed in the Web address.

“The site went up yesterday. Normally it would take a while for people to find us, but with the publicity about the fire, we’ve had more activity than expected.”

The site loaded quickly, a clean, appealing page featuring enticing pictures of the brownies and the famous Keyes chocolate cake. She scrolled down to a small icon in the bottom corner, clicked on it, then typed in the user name and password. The page changed to columns of numbers.

“Here’s the latest info on hits,” she said as she pointed. “We’re getting—” She stopped and blinked. “That can’t be right.”

“What?” Nicole peered over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“This says we’re getting over a thousand hits an hour. That’s not possible.”

“Sure it is,” Sid told her. “Didn’t you watch the news last night?”

“I was too busy debugging the site. Were we on it?”

“Yeah. A great story about how Keyes Bakery had been in business for years and burned down unexpectedly. And how we’re using technology to stay in business. You looked good, Nicole.”

Jesse stared at her sister who straightened, looking uncomfortable. “You were interviewed by the local news and didn’t tell me?”

“They were covering the fire. I was in shock. I barely remember what I said.”

“You told them about going online and how you wanted to keep your employees working until you could rebuild,” Sid told her. “That there were many business models these days and you were going to take advantage of what the computer age offered.”

Jesse felt as if she’d been hit in the stomach. What was going on? Her sister could get all excited about what they were doing away from her while being difficult and uncooperative in person?

“It was a good story,” Sid repeated. “Maybe it got picked up by some other local stations. You know they’re always looking to fill time, especially on the weekends. That could explain the hits.”

Something had to, Jesse thought. She clicked on the order page and gasped. “We have one hundred and twenty orders.”

Nicole stared at the screen. “That’s not possible.”

“Apparently it is.” She scrolled through the list. “Mostly brownies, which is good. They’re faster to make. There are a few cakes, though. We’ll have to sort through the orders and figure out what we’re baking first. Our overnight delivery pickup is at five-thirty. We’ve got to get as many of these orders out today as possible.” She looked at Nicole. “We’re going to need more help.”

“I’ll call Hawk. Maybe some of his players or their friends want a temporary job.”

Temporary meaning they would be replaced by full-time workers, or temporary meaning this wasn’t going to last?

Jesse decided not to ask. She had enough going on without fighting with her sister right now. They had the illusion of getting along and she didn’t want to disturb that.

“I’ll get the inventory finished so we can get baking. We have orders to fill.”

The sisters went in different directions. As Jesse counted large bottles of vanilla and bins of walnuts, she found her mind straying toward Matt and what had happened a few days ago…after the fire. Except she didn’t want to think about him, either. It was too confusing.

She glanced at the computer. The order count was increasing by the hour. Adrenaline kicked in. At last a crisis she could get behind.

MATT HOVERED AWKWARDLY as Gabe climbed out of his car seat. His new BMW 5 Series had state-of-the-art safety, including curtain air bags. Still, he’d driven to the aquarium slowly and carefully, never once going over the speed limit. If this had been anywhere other than Seattle—the land of polite drivers—he would have been pushed off the road by passing cars.
“I’ll get the door,” he told the boy and slammed it shut. “I was, ah, doing some research online. There’s an area where you can touch a lot of stuff. Plants and animals.” He frowned. “I guess not animals. Marine life.” Starfish. He remembered that they would be able to touch starfish. Which were what? A kind of fish?

Gabe looked up at him as they came to a stop at a light. “Are we crossing the street?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You gotta hold my hand.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Matt took the small hand in his own. He felt oversized and inept. What had he been thinking, wanting to spend time alone with Gabe? He didn’t know what he was doing. He hadn’t even known which car seat to buy, let alone how to put the car seat into his car. His mom had helped with that.

The light changed and they crossed the street. When they arrived at the aquarium, Matt paid for their admission, collected a map and led the way inside.

“They have different talks all day long,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d like the octopus one.”

Gabe’s eyes brightened. “Yeah. That’s good.”

Matt pointed to the map. “What else interests you?”

Gabe glanced at the open paper, then back at Matt. The light faded from his eyes. “I can’t read, Dad.”

Matt swore silently. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling like an ass. “Let’s walk around and see what’s fun.”

Gabe sighed heavily as he followed at his side.

It shouldn’t be like this, Matt thought, more frustrated by the second. The was his
kid.
They should be able to spend a couple of hours together without bumping into each other on the curves.

Not knowing what else to do, Matt followed the signs to the Underwater Dome. They walked in through a tunnel that opened up into an area in the middle of a massive aquarium. They were surrounded by water and fish. Gabe pointed and ran over to the glass.

“Look! Look!”

He raced from side to side, unable to take it all in. Matt watched him and relaxed a little. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

They spent a long time in the Underwater Dome. At one point, Matt saw a couple of boys eyeing Gabe. They were older, bigger and each had a squirt gun in their hands. He strolled over, came up behind them and put a hand on their shoulders.

“Don’t even think about it,” he told them.

They looked up, swallowed, then took off.

“Want some ice cream?” he asked his son.

Gabe nodded.

They got ice cream and soda, then went to the octopus talk. Gabe listened attentively for about fifteen minutes as he licked his cone and got ice cream all over himself, then he started squirming. Matt led him out and was about to ask where they should go next when Gabe stumbled, clutched his stomach and promptly vomited all over the cement floor.

A woman in an aquarium uniform stopped next to him. “Poor kid. Too much ice cream, huh? The bathroom is over there. I’ll call for a cleanup.”

Gabe stood there, looking miserable. Matt didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t thrown up since a long night of drinking in college, but he remembered it wasn’t fun.

“Come on,” he said and ushered the boy into the bathroom. “You done?” he asked. “You need to throw up again?”

Gabe shook his head. Matt grabbed paper towels, dampened them and began wiping Gabe’s face. He didn’t know what to say. The ice cream had been kind of large. Matt hadn’t finished his, but Gabe had gotten the whole thing down…except the part that had melted on him. And the soda. That had been a mistake.

Who bought a four-year-old a large ice cream and soda? An idiot, that’s who. He was beyond stupid. There was no way in hell he should be allowed out with his son on his own. This time he’d gotten him sick. Next time it could be worse.

Frustrated and angry, he scrubbed the kid’s arms, then his hands. Gabe’s shirt and shorts were clean, but his shoes weren’t, so Matt wiped them as well.

He continued to berate himself, knowing that his plan to suck Jesse in, destroy her and take the kid had a massive flaw. While he wanted his former lover taken down, he had nothing against Gabe. Putting the child in mortal danger by hanging out with him was wrong. He had to—

A small sob caught his attention. He looked at Gabe and realized big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

Matt dropped the paper towel and grabbed him by his upper arms. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital? Tell me. What is it?”

Gabe cried harder. Matt crouched down in front of him, feeling helpless.

“You gotta tell me, buddy,” he said. “I can fix it, whatever it is. Your stomach? Does it hurt?”

Gabe shook his head.

Okay, not that. “Your head? Your back?” What else could hurt on a four-year-old?

“You’re m-mad at me,” Gabe sobbed.

“What?” Mad at him? “No. Why would you think that?”

“You’re h-hurting me.” He pointed to a red spot on his arm where Matt had scrubbed a little too hard. “You l-look mad and you w-won’t talk to me.” There were more tears and a couple of heartbreaking sobs.

Matt felt like shit. Total and complete shit. He’d been so busy beating himself up, he hadn’t paid any attention to Gabe. Yet another way he was a danger to his son.

“I’m not mad,” he said, wishing Jesse was here and could take over. But she wasn’t. He was on his own. He knelt on the cement bathroom floor and wiped Gabe’s cheeks with his fingers. “I’m not mad at you.” He deliberately made his voice calm and friendly. “I’m kinda mad at myself.”

That got Gabe’s attention. The boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“You got sick because I bought you a big ice cream. I wanted to get you something you’d like, but I didn’t think that you’re still growing. I didn’t know it would make you throw up. The soda didn’t help, either. I felt bad and then I got mad at myself.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No. I’m having a good time with you.”

Gabe smiled through his tears. “Me, too,” he whispered, then threw himself at Matt.

His body was small and thin. Matt could feel his bones. The weight leaning against him was unfamiliar, but right. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged the boy. Skinny arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel Gabe’s heartbeat.

This was his son, he thought, understanding dawning for the first time. His child. He was responsible for him being alive.

He tightened his hug, then quickly relaxed, not wanting to accidentally hurt him again. Gabe hung on.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Okay,” Gabe said. “Tired.”

They’d been at the aquarium all of an hour, but maybe at four, that was enough.

“Want to go home?” he asked.

Gabe nodded.

Matt waited, but the kid didn’t let go. That was going to make it hard to walk. Then he said, “Want me to carry you?”

Gabe nodded again.

Matt carried him back to the car. Gabe hung on like he was never going to let go. Matt held him close, vowing that no matter what, he would protect this child. Take care of him. Unfamiliar emotions battled for space in his heart, but the one that got his attention the most was burning anger for all that he’d lost.

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