The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

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The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 77

by Patrice Wilton


  “Good. If you need some names, I can probably make a few calls.”

  “Right now, my first concern is getting him home and out of that jail cell.” I sighed. “Lydia was in court. I left a message.”

  “What can I do, Candy?”

  “I can put up the bond money, but you could speak with him, couldn’t you? Offer advice?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  “Thanks, Har. You’re the best.”

  “Want me to go with you to the station?”

  “Would you? I’d appreciate that.”

  He laughed. “I’d ask how much, but I don’t think you’re in the mood.”

  “I’m not, but if you can get Jake free of this ridiculous charge, I might be.”

  “Just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be around to pick you up.”

  “I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

  “You got it.”

  I was too nervous to hang around my apartment and decided to wait in the lobby. It felt like I had octopus tentacles gripping my insides. Not only was I concerned about Jake and my bar, but this whole corruption thing that was happening in our neighborhood.

  It made me angry, and it also made me sad. I really should just sell and get the hell out, but now it had become personal. The drug dealers and pimps taking over my street had crossed the line. Someone had attacked my friend, and my bar. If they wanted a fight, they’d damn well get one.

  While waiting, I called Fran and Susie and explained what was happening. They were just as upset as I was and promised to help anyway they could. Their hearts were in the right place, but really, what could they do? If the police were turning a blind eye, what could an artist and a songwriter do to save the neighborhood from going down the tube?

  I felt like marching down the street and picketing or something. I wanted to haul the hookers off the corners and put them in rehab, then I wanted to go and punch the johns and the drug dealers right in the face.

  Tears pricked the back of my eyes. It was so unfair. So unjust. I remember how sweet this area was ten years ago. It had been partly commercial but mostly residential, just a few blocks from Ocean Avenue, the heart of South Beach. Close to the action, but on a beautiful street that was quiet and dignified.

  The first time I laid eyes on the building that became my Candy Bar, I saw beyond the peeling paint and the obvious neglect, and recognized it’s potential. The building was gorgeous, with white stucco walls and a red tiled roof. It showed character, and even though I knew nothing about architecture, I knew it had good bones. I discovered later that it had once been a church, a Spanish mission, but in the sixties it’d been converted into a neighborhood bar.

  The interior was worse than the exterior. The walls were peeling and the place was dark and gloomy, but it was for sale, and affordable.

  I took the financial details to my banker, and within a few days the Candy Bar was mine. The first thing I did was to hang a new sign, and freshen it up with a paint job, a new inviting bar, and soft candle lighting. At the opening, I gave away free drinks, saying the first one was on me. The second week I started a happy hour, and after that the bar was packed every night.

  Jake showed up after I’d been open a couple of months. He arrived around three in the afternoon and was applying for a job. I had run an ad the previous week looking for musicians, and I figured he was a singer. He had stunning good looks, a winning smile, and a cocky-as-hell attitude.

  He informed me that he’d never bartended before, but guaranteed that he’d double my sales within a week. I’d laughed in his face and told him I was doing just fine. He agreed to work for free that night, and it was our biggest night ever.

  Women began to pack the place. They’d arrive early and leave late—just to be served by this guy who looked like a Hollywood heartthrob. He dated a few of the girls, and I didn’t mind because he always treated them fairly. They loved him. I loved him. And the bankers loved me.

  The Candy Bar and Jake were my two best investments, and now I needed to save both.

  * * *

  It didn’t take us long to bail Jake out, and then we drove him back to the Candy Bar to pick up his Jeep. During the drive Harrison gave him pointers on what to expect.

  “You’ll have an arraignment within the next twenty-four hours to appear before the judge. The charges will be read and you’ll be asked how you wish to plead.” He shot him a glance. “Of course, Lydia or a lawyer of your choosing will be with you, and do most of the talking. I can’t, because I work of the state department in Boston.”

  “You know, Lydia, Jake. She’ll be all over this, and won’t charge you a dime. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

  He glanced at me and nodded.

  For the first time in all the years I’ve known him, he looked shaken. The cocky attitude had slipped right off those big he-man shoulders, and I very much wanted to see it back, sitting high and proud where it belonged.

  I had insisted that Jake sit up front with Harrison, as they needed to talk. I was in the back so I planted my two hands on his shoulders and squeezed, hoping he’d respond to my strength and solidarity. He was family, and I’d do anything to protect him.

  “Don’t you worry, Jake. You are innocent, and Lydia will find out who the hell planted that cocaine, and why. And then she’ll make sure they’re punished to the limits of the law.”

  Harrison chuckled. “I can’t wait to meet this Lydia. Is she that tough?”

  “Yup. She sure is. But you did meet her—at the Candy Bar when the magic thing happened.”

  Harrison darted a look at Jake. “You’ve worked there long enough. What do you make of this magic/schmagic thingamajig? Candy sure believes it’s real, but I’ve got to say that I’m not convinced. Been to a few magic shows and enjoyed them for entertainment value, but I’m a person that has to do more than see to believe. I want logic. Scientific evidence. Not hocus-pocus.”

  If I had been sitting up front, he might have felt my knuckles against his jaw. Lucky for him, he only got a knee in the back of his seat.

  Jake turned around and winked at me. “You want to tell him, Candy, or should I?”

  “Better coming from you,” I retorted. “He doesn’t believe a word I say.”

  “That’s not true,” Harrison denied. “I believe everything you say, and I know that in your heart you really believe this is true. That your Candy Bar has magic.” He shrugged. “I wish it did. Might get you out of the mess that you see yourself in.”

  “It’s not that kind of magic. It doesn’t appear at your command. Tell him, Jake.” I crossed my arms around my middle, and sat back, silently fuming.

  “Okay.” Jake put his back to the door so he could see me as well as talk to Harrison. “We’ve witnessed it over the years at least a dozen times. It always happens during a thunderstorm. First the brick wall behind the bar starts to sweat, lights flicker, the candles dim, and then we hear a big crack of thunder and the room goes dark for a fraction of a second.”

  Jake smiled at me. “Doesn’t sound like anything, I know. But we’ve seen it with our own eyes. People go into some kind of trance. Like Lydia when she met Jed. I saw the look that passed between them, and it was unmistakable. They couldn’t look away. It was like two deer frozen by headlights. Same thing with Fran and John. She never looked at a guy as far as I could tell, but that night, she got struck by moonlight and madness—that’s what I call the Candy Bar magic.”

  In the rear-view mirror, I saw Harrison’s eyes on me. I lifted my chin, and gave him a told-you-so-look.

  He cleared his throat. “I did kiss you that first night. Right after the thunderstorm. Don’t know what made me do that. Very out-of-character for me.” He rubbed his jaw. “I wouldn’t go so far as call it magic, but it was kind of eerie.”

  “See. You call it eerie, but we who have been around a hellova lot longer, call it magic. And as far as I know, it only brings happiness to the people it infects. Someone won a lotto the next day. Anothe
r young woman who’d been trying to have a baby, she conceived that night. And there are so many love stories, I don’t want to bore you with them all.”

  “Still not convinced. Anyway, it was wrong of me to kiss you like that, but I’m not sorry that I did.”

  Jake frowned. “That was a real shitty thing to do. You’d come in to tell Candy about her son, Billy and your daughter’s engagement, and then you had the fucking nerve to come on to her.”

  “Jake,” I spoke quickly. “It’s all right. The kids…all of us…we’ve gotten beyond that now.”

  Harrison growled, “Why does everybody around here think they have a right to an opinion? Candy and I are mature adults. We’re both single, and if we want to go to bed together, that’s nobody’s business but ours.”

  “You don’t want to get involved with him, do you?” Jake asked, his eyes wide open. “You know how that will hurt Billy. You can’t do that to your son.”

  “I haven’t decided yet, but one thing’s for sure. If we do get it on, I don’t want Billy to know. It would be a one-time thing. Right, Harry?”

  “Why the hell are we talking about this?” Harrison shouted and pulled at his hair. “What business is it of Jake’s, or anyone else’s? Who cares, except you and me?”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Candy. You deserve better,” Jake snarled.

  “Oh? Like you?” Harrison snarled back.

  “And why not?” Jake’s face flushed a little. “What’s so wrong with me? I’ve been crazy about her for years. I’d hoped she might eventually feel the same. Even wished the magic would find us both, but it just never seemed to happen. But with you? That’s bullshit!”

  My mouth must have dropped open, because I slammed it shut. Jake? He cared about me?

  My heart hammered. “Oh, Jake. That’s so sweet. I love you madly. You know that.”

  “Yeah. Like a freaking brother.”

  “No, not like a brother…although I do think of you as family. But you’re one of my dearest, trusted, most loved…and certainly the hunkiest friend I have in the world. You’re too special to have a relationship with.”

  “Oh, gee. Thanks,” he said, and ran a hand over his face.

  Harrison smirked. “This is just great. Here I am, doing a deed for the two of you, and you’re so fond of each other that neither wants to go to bed with the other. I mean—shit! Where does that leave me? How does that make me feel?”

  I didn’t say a word, fearing that I’d already said too much.

  Harrison growled, “Candy—you want to go to bed with me, right?”

  “Uh—maybe. I think so. After all, you won’t be here long, and if we do this, we might be able to get it out of our system. Then we won’t distress the kids by having romantic feelings for each other.”

  “Fucking great. You want to go to bed with me, so you can get me out of your system? Not because you really have feelings for me…like you do with your bartender friend.”

  “It’s not like that.” My face was fifty shades of purple. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know.”

  “I’m not just “her bartender friend,” Jake snapped. “You heard her. She’s got real feelings for me.”

  “Oh, can you both stop!” I shouted. “You’re giving me a headache.”

  Harrison pulled up in front of the Candy Bar. “Where’s your car?” he asked Jake.

  “Two blocks down the road. There’s no parking on this street.”

  “And when were you going to tell me that?” Harrison gave him an exasperated look.

  “When you asked.”

  “Tell me when you get to it, if that’s not too big a problem.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Jake said, then added, “Hope it hasn’t been towed away. That would be just my luck.”

  I patted his shoulder. “If it is, we’ll find out where it’s been impounded and take you there. Won’t we, Har?”

  “No. He can walk.”

  “Oh, you’re just mean.”

  “There it is,” Jake said, pointing. “Oh, shit. Look at all the parking fines.”

  I grimaced. “Uh, yeah. You’ve got a few. Sorry, pal. I paid your bond, but you’re going to have to deal with the tickets yourself.”

  “Fine. But I need a raise.”

  “I’ll give you one, if we ever get the Candy Bar back on its feet.” I sighed. “We’ll have to stay closed until after your hearing. I sure hope the judge allows you to go back to work.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “I have no idea. But if you’re being charged with selling cocaine out of the bar, he might forbid you from working there, wouldn’t you think?”

  Harrison replied, “Not necessarily. Unless, of course, he has a prior conviction.”

  “You don’t, right?” I shot a look at Jake, and didn’t like the way he hung his head and shrugged.

  “Not really. But kind of.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Harrison asked.

  “I was seventeen and peddling grass out of the high school. Not big quantities, but I’d sell a bag or so. Because I was a minor, I thought the record had to be expunged.”

  “You’re probably safe, but if not, I recommend you make a plea deal.”

  “Jeez! Can things get anything worse?” I pulled out my phone and called Lydia again. “Call me as soon as you can. It’s an emergency.”

  Jake stepped out of the car, flung my door open and pulled me out. He gave me a long, big hug, and I’d never felt his arms wrapped around me before. I knew he was ashamed and scared and so was I.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “What was that all about?” Harrison asked as I slid into the front seat beside him.

  Did I detect a note of jealousy from Mr. Mayflower? That put my back up, just a little. Jake and I have been friends for a long time. “He’s worried and so am I.”

  “He’s a big boy. If he’s clean, I’m sure the charges will be dismissed.”

  “He’s clean. I have no doubt of that. And Lydia will get him off. I know she will.”

  “Good. Then what are you worried about?”

  “Everything.” Exasperated, but knowing it wasn’t all Harrison’s fault, I softened my tone. “Do you mind driving me back to the bar? I just want to have a look around. Reassure myself that everything’s all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” His eyes narrowed with concern. “What haven’t you told me?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but we’ve had a couple of thugs demanding protection money. They’ve showed up at the bar twice now. Jake and I each told them to get lost, but I guess they aren’t the kind of guys who take no for an answer.”

  “Have you reported this to the police?”

  “No.” I pushed my hair back from off my face, and blew out a warm breath. I could feel the anger and frustration rolling off me. “It only happened the first time about two weeks ago, and again this past weekend when we were away.” I sucked back tears. “Jake dealt with them. That’s probably why they planted cocaine in the bar. Who knows what they will do next?” My heart raced.

  “It’s probably a good thing for you to stay closed until we get this all sorted out.”

  “Oh, Harrison. I don’t know… I’ve never closed the bar. Not in the ten years I’ve owned it.”

  “Things have changed, you’ve said so yourself. And you’re still trying to sell it, aren’t you?”

  My head shot up as I realized I wasn’t through with the Candy Bar just yet. “I don’t want these people, whoever the hell they are, to intimidate me, and to win.”

  “An emotional reaction for a business decision,” Harrison pointed out.

  “I can’t sell now—with my bartender arrested for selling cocaine. No one would touch it with that kind of bad rep.” Business, schmisness. This was my baby on the line.

  He stopped the car in front of the bar. “I’ll just be a minute,” I said.

  Reaching for my arm, he said, “I’ll grab a parking spot. Wait for me.”

  “Don’
t be ridiculous.” I released an uneasy laugh, one leg out the door. “It’s not like they’re going to bomb the place.”

  His jaw ticked, and his gray eyes turned dark with emotion. He didn’t like this situation any more than I did. And that information created more fear and doubts.

  I pulled my leg back inside. “They wouldn’t, would they?”

  “Not likely,” he admitted. “They’d never get their money that way.”

  That was one way to look at it. “Exactly.”

  I watched him drive away, and I turned to the bar and unlocked the door. Then, chicken-shit that I am, I stood on the threshold and waited for Harrison to come back. Just in case I needed a witness.

  As soon as I saw Harrison round the corner I stepped inside, leaving the door ajar so he could follow me. The place was, of course, empty and eerily quiet. It was now the middle of the afternoon and the bar should have been open, a few regular customers stopping in for a drink and a quick bite to eat. Since I didn’t have a kitchen, we used a decent Italian bistro down the street and catered from them for our small pub menu.

  The system had worked well for years. We’d have lasagna or pizza, a variety of flatbreads and a quiche every day, and mix it up with eggplant marinara, stuffed cabbage rolls, fried zucchini and calamari.

  In business manager mode, I made a note to call them and let them know we’d be closed for a few days. Hopefully the matter with Jake would be settled soon, but the on-going issue with neighborhood crime was a more serious problem that could escalate before it got resolved.

  I stood inside my bar, drowning in sorrow, when I felt Harrison’s arms go around me from behind.

  “You okay?” he whispered, putting his chin on my shoulder.

  I breathed in his familiar scent and leaned against him. Unable to speak, I nodded and wrapped his arms tighter around my middle.

  “Candy?” He put his hands on my hips and turned me around. Then he lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know this is tearing you to pieces. I wish I could do something to help.”

  “Just keep holding me. Please?”

 

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