by Nina Lane
“I thought…” He paused and cleared his throat. “I sold the Mustang.”
Warren raised an eyebrow. “You sold it? I thought you’d planned to exhibit it at car shows.”
“The Fordwell show is off, and it’s not like I’d make a living going to car shows. But Charlie is planning to retire, so I was thinking of using the money for a down payment on his garage.”
The final words came out on a rush. He couldn’t read his father’s expression, but Warren didn’t exactly jump out of his seat and start shouting about what a great idea that was.
“I figure it’s one thing I can do,” Tyler added hastily. “I mean, I’m a certified mechanic, and I’m good at it. I could start small and maybe work toward specializing in classic car restoration. I know it’s not what you’d want, but I can do it.”
“What I want,” Warren said, picking up the menu, “is for you to do something you’re good at and that you enjoy.”
“Then why have you always thought my interest in cars is stupid?”
“I never thought it was stupid,” Warren replied. “I didn’t like that you’d gone through all that training and then weren’t doing anything useful with it. And in the meantime, you were still getting into trouble and living off your trust. I wanted you to realize your behavior was stupid and that it was about time you grew up.”
“Does that mean you’d be okay with having a son who’s a mechanic?”
“Tyler.” A pained expression crossed his father’s face. “When I was fifteen, my father told me he wasn’t going to hand the family company over to me until I knew what real, honest work was like. Until I could prove I’d be a success even if we didn’t own Stone Confectioners. For my first job, I changed oil and pumped gas at an old Shell station on the corner of Wells Street in San Francisco. Worked there for three years.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Contrary to appearances, I haven’t always lived and breathed the candy business,” Warren said. “I’ve done yard maintenance, delivered newspapers, worked at a convenience store, drove a supply truck. My first job at Stone Confectioners was packaging lollipops in the factory. I didn’t actually start making my way up the corporate ladder until I was in my thirties.”
“Did you want to?” Tyler asked. “Or did you do it because your father wanted you to?”
“No, I always loved the idea of working at Stone Confectioners. That was why I worked so damned hard at everything else. I wanted to earn my way into the family company. And so I did. But your mother and I always knew that not all of our children would feel the same way. That was fine, as long as you all found another career path that fulfilled you.”
Which Tyler never had. At least, not until now. Maybe.
“Charlie wants to get rid of the garage because it’s not doing well,” he said. “Competition, high cost of insurance. I don’t know for sure I can do any better, but I know a lot of guys who’d bring their cars in for work. With some advertising, maybe I can make a go of it.”
Warren’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what about your boat payments?”
“I don’t know,” Tyler admitted. “I won’t make a profit for a while. I can maybe work part time in the library, though it will take a while to pay it off. Sam Corrigan might not want to wait that long.”
Warren nodded, his forehead creasing.
“I don’t want to use my trust fund money either.” Tyler took a sip of water. The instant he said the words, a weight seemed to lift from his chest. “I know it’s mine, and so is a share of Sugar Rush. But I want to save it for later…maybe one day I’ll have kids or something. Or maybe we can use it to help fund the veteran’s programs for the Rebecca Stone Foundation. Whatever we do with it, I don’t want it now. I want to figure this out on my own.”
Then prove I can do it.
“I’m not like Luke and Evan,” he continued. “I never will be. I don’t want to work at Sugar Rush. But I don’t want to be the family disappointment anymore either.”
Regret flickered in Warren’s eyes. “I’ve been disappointed with your choices, Tyler. Not necessarily with you.”
“Same difference.”
“No. But to answer your question…” Warren reached for his wineglass. “Yes. I would be fine with having a son who’s a mechanic. More, I’d be proud. I’m already proud of what you’ve done.”
Tyler didn’t respond. He was too busy trying to smother the weird feelings rising into his throat. He didn’t think his father had ever before said he was actually proud of him.
“I’ll talk to Sam Corrigan and renegotiate,” Tyler said. “He might be okay with waiting until I start to make money.”
“If not, the library is always open for you, if you want to come back.”
Part of him did want to finish the library job, but another bigger part of him knew he could never do it without—
His heart crashed against his ribs. Disbelief filled him. He blinked, and his vision cleared. She was there, seated at a table by the window. The reddish sun filtered through the glass and shone on her brown hair. She was focused on her plate, her eyelashes downcast as she sliced into a steak.
Tyler’s pulse sped up, as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks rather than days. Now that, for the first time in his life, he had his father’s blessing, maybe he could find a way to win Kate back. If he wasn’t at Sugar Rush anymore, there wouldn’t be a workplace conflict, and—
Kate lifted her head and spoke to the person seated across from her.
Oh, fuck no.
His brief hope crashed and splintered like broken glass. Miles Norwood with his stupid styled hair and pale blue suit sat across from Kate, his jaw flapping in an apparently nonstop monologue. She was nodding in response, her perfect lips parting as she took a sip of wine.
No. No. No.
Before he could think, Tyler shot to his feet. He stalked across the room to Kate’s table. Her eyes widened with shock and a deep, fiery emotion he could see but couldn’t yet name.
“Tyler.” Pain tightened her voice.
“Kate.” He fixed Norwood with a hard stare, his hands clenching. “Norwood.”
“Have we met?” The other man gave him a bland smile and extended a hand. “I don’t recall.”
“Yeah, I know. Because you’re an arrogant dickwad who doesn’t deserve her.”
Kate gasped. Norwood blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Tyler lowered his head to look Norwood in the eye. “You. Don’t. Deserve. Her.”
“Tyler, please.” Her hand closed around his arm.
He faced her, his breath uneven and tension clawing at his chest. “Walk away with me.”
She stared at him, her eyes bright and filled with despair. “I can’t.”
“Please.”
“Hey.” Norwood stood so fast, his chair scraped backward. “Do you mind? We’re on a date here.”
“The fuck you are,” Tyler snarled.
“Is there a problem?” A server and the house manager hurried over, both of them glancing warily from him to Miles.
“Yes, there’s a problem.” Norwood waved his napkin at Tyler. “This barbarian is disturbing us.”
“He’s not a barbarian, and he’s not disturbing us.” Kate got to her feet, still gripping his arm. She moved closer to him and lowered her voice. “You have to go.”
He shook his head. The sweet scent of her filled his nose, warming his blood. The second he stepped away from her, he’d be cold again.
“Sir.” The manager leveled him with a glare. “I need to ask you to leave this couple alone.”
“They’re not a fucking couple,” Tyler snapped.
“Excuse me.” Warren Stone’s voice cut through the air.
“Mr. Stone.” The manager smiled weakly, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance.”
Warren silenced him with a lift of his hand. “Never mind. We’re leaving. Put the bill on my tab, please.”
&n
bsp; “Oh, no need, sir,” the manager said. “I do apologize.”
Warren gripped Tyler’s shoulder. “Come on, son.”
Kate’s face was pale, her eyes luminous. He wanted to grab her like a caveman, haul her over his shoulder, and take her back to his place where he would never let her go. He wanted to watch Monty Python marathons and eat pancakes at 2:00 a.m. with her. He wanted her to admit that she belonged to him. Just like he’d belonged to her the second she’d fallen into his arms.
“Please go away, Tyler,” she said, her voice breaking on his name.
He stumbled back, only his father’s grip keeping him upright. He pulled away and stalked to the door. The ocean air did nothing to cool the anger and misery boiling inside him. He stopped halfway down the sidewalk and inhaled a few hard breaths.
“I guess Julia was right.” Warren came out of the restaurant, tugging on his suit jacket.
“About what?”
“She said you were in love with Kate. As much as I try not to admit she’s right, I’m frequently forced to acknowledge that she usually is.”
Tyler managed a hoarse laugh. “Women, huh?”
“Indeed.” Warren retrieved his car keys from his pocket.
Tyler dragged a hand through his hair, forcing himself not to turn and look through the restaurant window at Kate. Even though everything inside him ached for one more glimpse of her.
“Come on,” Warren said. “I have a cold six-pack in the fridge, and I’m sure there’s a game on somewhere we can watch.”
An invitation? Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything alone with his father—if he ever had. Growing up, his brothers had always been around, and as the youngest, he’d spent most of his time either trying to compete with them or fighting with them.
Warren was already walking down the sidewalk. A knot loosened inside Tyler, one that had been tied tight longer than he cared to think about. He hurried to catch up with his father, falling into step at his side.
Chapter
TWENTY-FIVE
“The data hub would allow Sugar Rush to study consumer purchasing trends.” Miles speared his fork into a soy veggie patty. “Which in turn would inform the development and deployment of business strategies.”
Kate bit into a greasy slice of pizza and almost moaned aloud as the gooey cheese and pepperoni flavors hit her tongue. She’d eaten more junk food in the past week than she’d eaten her entire life, trying to smother her painful emotions beneath layers of carbs and sugar.
Not to mention 2:00 a.m. pancakes, which, as it turned out, weren’t nearly as good alone as they were with a certain hunky librarian.
Unfortunately, her junk food binge wasn’t working. Neither was her attempt to rebound with Miles, who’d invited her to lunch the Monday after their interrupted dinner date.
“So when you combine analytics with consumer insights and trends…” His voice droned on.
While Kate still appreciated his knowledge and wanted to figure out herself how to make his analytics intersect with global trends, she could no longer muster even an ounce of interest in him personally. He was smart, yes, but about as bland and boring as unsweetened rice pudding.
Not to mention, she couldn’t stop thinking about Tyler, which was definitely poor date etiquette. She’d replayed that scene at the Dijon Bistro countless times over the weekend, and part of her still desperately wished she’d taken him up on his offer.
Walk away with me. Just the memory of his deep voice, scraped with a plea, intensified the ache in her heart.
Walk away with him. Tyler would grab her hand and haul her off the path to run through wild fields and across sandy beaches. Then he’d pull her down with him onto the warm sand and kiss her until her head spun and her heart danced upward into the clouds.
Her eyes stung. She couldn’t allow that. As the Vice-President of Corporate Social Responsibility, as Kate Darling, she’d made a commitment to both herself and her new position. A professional, well-ordered life in which there was no room for mistakes or messiness.
“So, Miles.” She polished off her slice of pizza and grabbed a napkin. “Would you like to go dancing tonight?”
“Oh.” He blanched a little. “I’m sorry. It’s Monday night. Besides, I don’t dance.”
“I could teach you. I really get down with the Funky Chicken.”
“No, thank you. I dislike dancing rather intensely.”
Then you haven’t had the right partner.
“What about a movie?” Kate asked. “Or I know of a great arcade we could go to.”
“Arcade?” He lifted an eyebrow in faint confusion. “Do you mean video games?”
“Yes. They have a ton of classics like Pac-Man and Space Invaders. All set to free play, too, so it’s unlimited.”
“Er, that sounds a bit unsanitary.” His mouth twisted as he gestured to his hand. “Germs and all.”
Kate took a gulp of water, wishing it was wine.
“Miles.” She set her glass down and straightened her spine. “You’re a brilliant, very nice man, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. It’s been wonderful working with you as well, but I’m afraid this social element isn’t working for me.”
He blinked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“That is, I don’t think we should start dating,” Kate added gently.
Miles was silent for a long moment before he reached up to loosen his tie. He sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumping.
“Why does this keep happening to me?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. “Every. Single. Time.”
Kate bit her lip and deflected a pang of regret. She reached across the table to pat his hand.
“I can relate,” she admitted. “It took me a while to figure out that it really wasn’t me. Sometimes people just don’t mesh romantically. And frankly if a girl doesn’t make your heart pound and your palms sweat, then she’s probably not the one.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I want a woman who challenges me, not one who gives me cardiac arrest.”
“I mean, you should feel all warm and tingly every time you look at her,” Kate said. “And she should feel the same way about you. Like you can’t get enough of each other.”
“For heaven’s sake.” Miles rolled his eyes. “That kind of thing is for fairy tales and romance novels. I want a woman who will be my partner.”
“Exactly. And your partner is a person you want to be with all the time. Someone who gets you right down to your core and gives you the things you’ve missed in life. Someone you can tell all your secrets to, who laughs at your jokes and knows how you like your coffee. Someone you can dance with.”
“I told you, I don’t dance.”
“When you find the right person, you will.”
Kate squeezed his hand and let go. She gathered her briefcase and cell phone, then walked slowly back to her office. She wasn’t sorry to break things off with Miles—not that they’d really gotten started yet—but she was a little sad. She’d once had such high hopes for him. And if it hadn’t been for Miles…she might never have experienced the brilliant, shooting star that was Tyler Stone.
She entered her new office, a spacious room with a fancy computer system and a wall of windows overlooking the coastal hillside. She even shared an assistant with another VP now, which was a switch in roles she was still getting used to.
A small package sat on her desk. Though she hadn’t been expecting anything, Kate peeled off the paper. Two chocolate bars appeared, wrapped in gold and silver foil that bore the words GOLD RUSH.
What…?
“Kate.” A knock came at the half-open door and Luke looked in. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” She set the bars down and moved around from behind the desk, still feeling weird about offering the CEO a seat in her office. “How can I help you, si…Luke?”
His expression unreadable, he extended several papers printed with slides from a presentation.
The first sheet read STONE CONFECTIONERS’ HISTORICAL CANDY.
Kate leafed through the pages, her shock deepening. This was the proposal she and Tyler had talked about, the one he’d wanted to present to Luke and the other board members.
He’d listed all his ideas for reviving the forgotten chocolate and candy upon which the Stone Confectioners and Sugar Rush empire had been built. Chocolate drops, lollipops, truffles, candy made with orange sugar, molasses, vinegar, fruit. Caramels, bonbons, pastilles, jujubes.
Kate lowered the pages. Her heart was suddenly racing.
“Did Tyler give this to you?” she asked.
“Yes. He said you’d gotten the idea when you were working with him in the library.”
“I’d gotten the idea?”
“He also said Spencer has already been working on recreating the recipes,” Luke continued, folding his arms across his chest. “When I agreed that you could help Tyler with the library database, I hadn’t known you were concocting this kind of plan.”
“I…I wasn’t, sir…I mean, Luke.” She swallowed, uncertain why he was being so stern. “Tyler found some old Stone Confectioners’ recipe books, that was all. We thought it would be fun to see if they could be recreated in the lab, to find out what eighteenth and nineteenth-century candy actually tasted like.”
“And the proposal about it becoming a new product line?” Luke asked.
Kate fidgeted with the papers. If he was upset about this, she didn’t want to blame Tyler.
“What about it?” she finally said.
“It’s one of the best ideas I’ve heard in a long time.”
Kate jerked her head up. “Really?”
A smile broke out on his face. “Really. It’s brilliant. I’m only irritated that someone hadn’t thought of it before now.”
“Luke, it wasn’t my idea at all. Not even close.” Relief filled her, sparking a wave of pure happiness. “It was Tyler’s. We talked about the recipes, but he’s the one who suggested it could be part of the Sugar Rush line, both as a viable product and an homage to the company’s history. We did market research, too, and there’s nothing like this out there. It would be a totally new avenue to explore.”
