“Fizzy lemon or fizzy grapefruit?” Jazz asked, holding up both bottles.
“Grapefruit, please.”
She handed the bottle to me, and I popped off the top. We were in the bakery kitchen, about to get to work making dozens of cupcakes for Lily’s party.
“God, that’s good,” I said after I took a sip.
“Why is Duke still around if Slash is back in town?” she asked.
“Because Slash is still worried about me being here alone.” I sighed. “I wish I wanted to fight him more on it, but I actually see his point.”
“You agree with him?”
I nodded. “I heard from the bank. They found the money.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I agreed. “But they’re still looking into how the money got diverted in the first place. I asked if I should’ve gotten an attorney, but the bank asked me to let it be since everything had been taken care of…”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” she said. “Like, all of it.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell Slash you think Kurt’s sabotaging you?”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t know about the bank. And he doesn’t know about Ella. She finally got back to me, by the way. Her landlord had a cash offer from the Smith Corporation, but that’s all she really knew. So, it turns out we were right. Kurt was involved in buying that building, and it looks a lot like the landlord couldn’t sell it so long as tenants still had valid leases.”
“Has Kurt been in contact?”
“Nope. I keep waiting for him to pop up like a jack-in-the-box, but he hasn’t been around. But I guess neither have I. I haven’t been at the bakery much lately, and when I have been, Duke’s been here. Pretty sure that Kurt knows I have a protector now. You know? Like he’s not going to walk in, demand I sell the building and then leave. Not if Duke is here.”
“Do you think he’s going to threaten you at some point?”
“I think he’s been attempting to throw roadblocks in my way, but subtly. And not a big deal when dealt with one at a time. The health inspection, the missing money—that was him trying to up his game. People who do that type of thing don’t just disappear; they ramp things up.”
“Do you think he’s the owner of the Smith Corporation? Or do you think he just works for them?”
I sighed. “Only one way to figure it out.” I pulled out my phone.
Jazz’s expression was pinched.
“The not knowing is worse than the knowing.”
“You don’t know what the knowing is,” she said.
“Hence the phone call.” I unlocked my phone and scrolled to Kurt’s number.
“You saved his number?”
“Yes. In case I wanted to block it or screen and send to voicemail.”
“Smart.”
I touched the screen and then put it on speaker. As it rang, I placed my finger in front of my lips and Jazz nodded.
He answered on the second ring. “This is Kurt Antol.”
“Kurt,” I began. “This is Brooklyn Palmer.”
“Brooklyn,” he said, his tone pleasant. “How nice to hear from you. Have you decided to sell your building?”
“Nope. It’s not for sale.”
“Too bad. I’m prepared to make you a very generous offer.”
“You or your boss?”
He paused. “Does it matter?”
He’s not the boss, Jazz mouthed.
“Why do you want this building?”
“It’s prime real estate,” he said. “Surely, you’ve noticed the renaissance occurring in this area.”
“I’ve noticed.” Something in my brain clicked into place. Instead, I decided to let the line out and allow the bait to dangle. “How much are you willing to give me for the building?”
“A million five.”
Over double what the building had been worth when I’d taken out a partial loan against it.
“I’ll think about it,” I lied and then I hung up before he could respond.
“You’re actually thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jazz said after a moment. “I mean, one point five million for the bakery?”
“I’m not thinking about it at all,” I said. “I just had a theory, and I think I proved it.”
“I’m not following.”
“He offered me double what the building is worth. Why?”
“No idea.”
“Because whatever Kurt and the Smith Company have planned for this area, a million five is nothing to them. This building—this area—is zoned commercial residential. Think luxury condos, high-end boutiques. Own all the buildings in the area and what do you have?”
“A monopoly.”
“Bingo.”
“We still can’t prove that Kurt is behind all these roadblocks. I mean, we have a hunch but no proof.”
“I know where you’re going with this. We couldn’t go to the cops even if we had proof. The Smith Corporation has deep pockets, and with deep pockets, you can own people in positions of power.”
“There’s a solution,” she said.
“I’m not involving Slash.”
She held her hands up in defeat.
“He’s already not liking all the stuff going on with this place. Telling him about Kurt would give him even more ammo.” I walked over to the stove.
“More ammo for what?”
“More ammo for proving him right. That I need Duke. That this place isn’t safe.” I bit my lip. “That selling the building isn’t a bad idea.”
“He wants you to sell it?”
“He suggested it, but he didn’t fight me when I pushed back. I mean, he did have a valid point about my safety over this building, but it’s been in my family for three generations. And with what we just found out we can be pretty confident this building is going to be worth a lot more after the developments around here are complete. It sounds like a lot now, but it’s actually a rip-off long term.”
Was I being foolish? Was I being overly sentimental?
“I could start over,” I said quietly. “A million five would allow me to open another bakery in a different part of town and even expand. It’s not the work I’m afraid of. It’s…this is all I have left of my father. I’m not sure Slash understands that. There are some things money can’t buy.”
“What’s not to understand?” she inquired.
I didn’t want to share Slash’s past with Jazz; it wasn’t mine to tell, but she was a good friend and a business partner. It wasn’t like I was gossiping, I rationalized.
“Slash didn’t know his father. He made his own way in the world. The Blue Angels are his family. Having something of my father’s… it’s not the same for him.” I paused. “Selling the building…I just can’t. I can’t, Jazz.”
“Then don’t. We’ll figure something out.”
“What exactly will we figure out?” I asked in frustration. “If I don’t sell, Kurt is going to up his game. And then where will we be?”
“So, what do we do?” she asked. “Not tell Slash and wait?”
“Right now, we bake cupcakes.”
“There’s so much pink,” Cam said, wrinkling his nose.
“Your sister likes pink,” Gray said as he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him into his body and then messed up his hair. “When you have a party, you get what you want.”
Jazz had totally come through. While I’d been sitting next to Slash in an auditorium, watching Lily and her ballerina friends twirl in tutus to Swan Lake, Jazz had set up a long table with a white tablecloth and ten place settings in Darcy’s backyard.
“Look at the fairy lights!” Lily pointed to the big tree.
“Wow, this is seriously incredible,” Mia said.
Darcy shook her head and looked at me. “You guys really went all out.”
“Anything for Lily,” I said.
Slash tugged me into his side.
“I’m obsessed with these cake stands,” Mia said as she walked over to the table. “Where did you get them?”
“Jazz made them,” I replied.
“You’re kidding,” Joni said. “Damn, you are so crafty.”
“They’re really easy to make,” Jazz mock-whispered. “I can show you.”
“Please do,” Joni begged. “I’d love to do an art project.”
“And the nesting instinct has completely taken over,” Darcy said.
“I’m learning how to crochet,” Allison said. “I completely get the wanting to be crafty thing.”
“Mama!” Lily yelled. “Can we have our cupcakes now?”
“I’m with Lily,” Slash said.
“Yes!” Darcy called back.
Lily made a move to lift the glass cake stand lid and Darcy immediately rushed toward her.
“I promised Linden I’d save her a few cupcakes,” Boxer said. “She’s bummed she couldn’t be here.”
“Ah!” One of the girls shot up from the table and ran away, swatting at her head as she went. “It’s a wasp!”
“Wasp!” Lily yelled.
The other girls started screaming and running around in circles like demonic lemmings, clearly trying not to get stung. They ran into the house, one after the other, their shrieks heard even after they were inside. Darcy followed suit, no doubt trying to calm them down.
“Don’t move,” Slash said to me.
“Why?” I asked.
“Just don’t.” His hand was suddenly on my neck, and he curled his fingers. “Fuck.”
He yanked his hand back and opened his palm. A wasp was stinging him, and I could see its thorax moving. Slash lowered his hand to the ground and flicked the wasp off and then dug his boot heel into it, crushing it into the dirt.
“That was like a ninja move,” I said to him. “I didn’t even know it landed on me.”
“Little bastard stung the fuck out of me,” Slash said, seemingly unfazed.
“Inside,” I commanded. “We’ve got to wash it.”
“I like it when you’re bossy,” he replied.
We went inside and into the kitchen. I turned on the faucet and made sure it was warm. Then I grasped Slash’s wrist and guided him to the sink where I gently washed his palm. When it was clean, I took a paper towel and patted his skin dry.
“Sit,” I told him.
“It’s just a wasp sting, you know?”
“I know. Sit anyway.”
He dutifully sat at the kitchen table. I went into Darcy’s freezer and pulled out an ice pack. I wrapped it in a dish towel and then placed it on Slash’s hand.
“Better?” I asked.
He grabbed my waist and plopped me down on his lap. “Better.”
Darcy came into the kitchen from the living room and said, “The girls adamantly refuse to go back outside because of the wasp situation.” She looked at Slash. “What happened?”
“The wasp situation,” he said dryly.
“Ah,” Darcy said. “There’s ibuprofen on the top shelf of the cabinet. Helps reduce the swelling.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
The other Old Ladies came in from the backyard, carrying trays and cupcakes, but just the ones covered in pink frosting.
“I’m guessing the menfolk want to stay outside?” Darcy asked.
“They do,” Mia said. “I figured we could eat our cupcakes with the girls.”
“They’re watching a movie,” Darcy said.
My phone rang. I dug through my purse and found it. I looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number, so I let it go to voicemail.
I went to the cabinet Darcy had pointed to, grabbed the bottle of medicine, and returned to Slash.
“Mama!” Lily yelled.
“Are we sure giving them sugar is a good idea?” Mia asked. “They already seem a bit high-strung.”
“I promised them sugar,” Darcy said. “Why do I do this to myself?”
“Have you seen your daughter?” I demanded. “She’s not even mine and I can’t say no to her.”
Slash leaned over so he could press his cheek to my belly and then wrapped an arm around my waist.
“You’re tough when you need to be,” Mia pointed out.
“Eh, maybe,” Darcy said. “It’s just been hard. The last few months. I’ve given them whatever they wanted.”
“When we get back from Wyoming, Silas and I are going to start going to the assisted living facility and bring Captain,” Mia said.
“Who’s Captain?” I asked.
“Our mutt.” Mia grinned. “He’s a ridiculous animal and he always makes us laugh. We thought, why not spread the joy.”
“That’s a great idea,” Joni said, swiping a cupcake off the table. She removed the wrapper, tore off the bottom, and placed it on top of the frosting, making a cupcake sandwich.
“What did you just do?” Darcy demanded.
Joni blinked. “What?”
Darcy pointed to the cupcake. “I’ve never seen that in my entire life.”
“Seriously?” Joni took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s the only way to eat a cupcake. Right, Brooklyn?”
I shook my head. “I’m as amazed as Darcy. I had no idea you were supposed to do it that way.” I opened the bottle of ibuprofen. “Here, Slash. Let me get you a glass of water.”
“I don’t need it,” he protested.
“Show me your hand,” I commanded.
He pulled off the ice pack.
“It’s insanely swollen already, and it’s only been a couple of minutes,” I commented. “You’ll take the medicine.”
“Fine. But I need to wash it down with a cupcake,” he groused, returning the ice pack to his palm.
“Ah, look at you guys,” Mia quipped. “Already acting like an old married couple.”
“You’re one to talk,” Joni said as she finished the last bite of her cupcake. “You were like insta-twitterpaited with Colt.”
Mia’s gaze went all dreamy. “Yeah. That was fun.” Scarlett, who was strapped to Mia’s chest, let out a huge belch worthy of a trucker. Mia sniggered. “This is pretty fun, too.”
Lily ran into the kitchen. “Mama, we’re waiting on our cupcakes!”
“Hey, check the attitude,” Darcy said. “I’ll be right there.”
Lily’s gaze darted to Slash, and she immediately came over to inspect his hand. “What happened?”
“A wasp almost stung Brooklyn,” he said. “I stopped it from happening.”
“And it stung you?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yep.”
Very carefully, Lily removed the ice pack and set it on the table. She took his hand and lifted it to her lips. She gave his rough palm a kiss. “Better?”
“Better,” he said gruffly.
She shot him a toothy grin and then ran off to join her friends.
Slash looked in the direction Lily had gone, his eyes warm with affection. “Cute fucking kid.”
“The cutest,” I agreed.