Baby Bootcamp

by Mallory Kane

  “How—how much do I owe?” she asked, feeling her shoulders slump in defeat. “I’ll need to make arrangements to pay it off over time.”

  The big man sent her a look that almost appeared to have regret in it. “Sugar,” he said, “you don’t have no idea, do you?”

  That expression on his broad face and those regretful words frightened her more than anything he’d done yet. “What do you mean?” she croaked.

  “My boss is in the business of loaning money to people who can’t get a loan through the usual channels. Our terms are hundred percent interest, payable at the end of the agreed-upon time. For you, sugar, that means you owe ten thousand as of today. If you can’t pay today, well, my boss don’t accept ‘can’t pay.’ He also don’t accept ‘more time.’ You need to get the money somehow.” He looked around. “You got any insurance on this place?”

  Faith was too shocked to even react. Her eyes burned, her head spun, but all she could do was stand there and stare at the man. “Insurance?” she repeated stupidly.

  “Yeah. On the café. On the building.”

  She nodded, not quite sure what he was asking.

  “How much?”

  Faith swallowed and felt the blood drain from her face. Her head started to pound.

  “Come on, sugar. Don’t faint on me. How much?”

  “One hun—” she took a shuddering breath “—one hundred thousand.”

  At her reply, the man shook his head. “Damn, sugar. You can’t rebuild this place for a hundred thou. But what you can do is this. If you can’t come up with ten large by Sunday, your place here will burn down. Then you can collect the insurance and pay off your debt.”

  “But this was my grandmother’s café. Her home. It’s all I have.”

  “Sugar, after you pay us off, you’ll have ninety thousand.”

  Faith felt a lump lodge in her throat. This was Gram’s café, her pride and joy. She’d told Faith ever since she was a little girl that the café would be hers.

  She clenched her jaw to stop the tears that were threatening to crawl up the back of her throat. What could she do? Rory had left her with nothing—no choice. All the promises he’d made and he hadn’t meant a single one.

  The man stood, adjusted his jacket so his gun didn’t show, tossed a bill on the counter and gave her one last look. “I’ll check with you Sunday.”

  As the big man left the café, Faith’s whole body began to tremble, and she couldn’t draw a full breath into her constricted chest. She panted shallowly, her lungs straining for air. But the more she tried, the more panicked she became.

  She tented her hands over her mouth, hoping that would help her to breathe normally, but fear had taken over her body. She could never raise ten thousand dollars in two years, much less two days.

  She was going to lose everything.

  Chapter Five

  A WWE-sized guy in a dark suit was getting into a black Land Rover just as Matt pulled in to the Talk of the Town Café parking lot. The sight tripped Matt’s internal warning system. When the man started the vehicle, the license plate light came on, and Matt noted and memorized the number.

  Two things struck him as odd. Nobody, not even the mayor, wore a suit here in the summer. It was too damn hot. And muscle heads in expensive suits and expensive cars didn’t eat in small town cafés—ever.

  When Matt stepped inside and saw Faith, her face was white as a sheet and her hands were wrapped protectively around her tummy.

  “Faith,” he said, going to her. “What’s the matter?”

  She looked up at him, her face a mask of fear. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. All she could do was shake her head.

  He sat down next to her and took her hands in his. They were cold as ice and trembling. “Faith?”

  At that instant, Glo came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of newly washed mugs. “What’s going on out here?” she asked. “From the way the bell kept ringing, I thought we were having a late rush.”

  Matt didn’t speak. He held Faith’s gaze. She didn’t move a muscle, but somehow he knew that she didn’t want Glo to know about whatever had happened. And whatever it was, it was directly related to the big man who’d just left the café.

  Glo turned to Faith. “You all right, honey?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’m fine. Just hurting a little.” She pulled her hands away from Matt’s and rubbed the side of her tummy. “Aren’t you done yet? I thought you’d already left to go home. I told you, I don’t want you wearing yourself out before I even go to the hospital.”

  Glo’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Faith, then she turned, taking the opportunity to glare at Matt before heading back into the kitchen. He got her unspoken message. You will tell me what’s going on.

  Once they were alone again, Faith clasped her hands together. “I—I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay. Want to sit over there? I’ll bring you a glass of water, and you tell me what’s got you so spooked.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I mean, can we go upstairs? I don’t want anybody to hear.”

  “Sure,” he said. He couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with her, but he knew one thing for certain. It had something to do with the hulking wrestler wannabe who had just left.

  Faith took it slowly up the stairs. Behind her, Matt watched her hand grip the stair rail until the skin over her knuckles looked transparent. She managed to make it up the steps without pausing, but once they were at the top landing, she sighed deeply.

  “Here we are,” she said, trying hard to keep her breathing steady, although it was clear to Matt that she was winded.

  “What does your doctor say about you climbing stairs?”

  She avoided his gaze as she took a set of keys out of her pocket and opened the door to her apartment.

  “Who has keys to the café and your apartment?” he asked.

  “Glo has a master key, like I do.” She looked at her key ring. “And there’s a key to the diner’s front and back doors hanging in the kitchen.” She separated out a key and slid it off the ring. “This is another master key. It opens all the doors in the building. Maybe you should take one, since you’re probably going to be in and out at all hours of the day and night.”

  Matt accepted the key and slipped it onto his key ring. Then he stepped inside. The apartment was large and bright. The living room was about half the size of the dining room below, and to his left were two bedrooms, divided by a central bath. Matt could see a big four-poster bed in the larger bedroom, which looked to be the same size as the living room. The smaller room was covered with plastic, and several paint cans sat on the floor. The kitchen was to the right, which put it above the diner’s kitchen.

  The apartment looked like Faith. The windows faced north. During the day, they’d provide that pure, indirect light that painters love so much. The sheer curtains matched the glow in Faith’s cheeks. There were blinds, but it didn’t look like she lowered them very often. The rug picked up the blue of her eyes.

  The living room furniture was old, and the upholstery was faded—her grandmother’s, he guessed. In the southwest corner sat a rocking chair with a pink-and-blue afghan draped over it. The effect was charming, pretty and sweet, just like her.

  “I see you’re working on your nursery,” he said, gesturing toward the unfinished room. “And you already have a rocking chair.”

  “I’d hoped to be finished painting it by now,” Faith said, her voice unsteady. “But it’s been so busy.” She stopped.

  Matt turned. Had he upset her? Because she was definitely on the verge of tears. She’d crossed her arms, hugging herself, and her face had taken on a greenish tinge. “Yeah, hon?” He stepped toward her.

  “I’m so sorry, but—” she stopped and pressed her lips together.

  “Faith?”

  Suddenly she looked terrified. He stepped closer.

  Her face crumpled and tears started to flow. She covered her face with her hands and mumbled someth
ing that was too muffled to understand.

  Matt couldn’t figure out what had caused her to cry, but he knew he couldn’t stand there and do nothing. He reached out and touched the curve of her shoulder. When he did, she leaned toward him. In a motion as natural as breathing, Matt held out his arms, and Faith stepped into them. She pressed her face against his shirt and sobbed.

  He put his arms around her in a comforting gesture, but as his shirt grew damp with her tears, he clenched his jaw. Holding Faith as she cried was anything but comfortable for him. Her body against his stirred a reaction in him that he’d done his best to pretend wasn’t there.

  “Shh,” he whispered, keeping his frustration out of his voice. “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled without lifting her head.

  He cupped the back of her head, feeling her silky hair against the sensitive skin of his palm. “Shh. Just calm down, and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I feel so stupid. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice broke off.

  “I’ll be glad to help you with anything, Faith. No matter what. If it’s getting the nursery painted, or—”

  She shook her head. “No, you won’t want to help. Not when you hear what it is.” She pushed against his chest, so he relented and let her step away. “But you don’t have to get involved. I just need some information. Maybe you can tell me if you know someone I can call, or—”

  “Faith, here.” He took her hands lightly in his, barely even a touch. “Sit. Where do you like to sit? In that armchair or in the rocker?”

  “Rocker,” she muttered.

  “Okay, then.” He led her to the rocking chair. Once she was seated, he went into the kitchen, found a glass and filled it with water. Faith took the glass and drank thirstily.

  “Now talk to me.” He sat gingerly on the edge of her couch. He didn’t want to get too comfortable in her apartment. He’d be done with this assignment before long, and there would be no excuse for him to stay around Freedom, much less around Faith’s apartment.

  “First, tell me why you don’t want Valerio and Glo to know that there’s anything wrong. Not that you’ve fooled them. Glo knows something’s up, and from the look she gave me, she thinks it’s my fault.” He gave her a little smile.

  But she didn’t smile back. She looked miserable, and the fear hadn’t disappeared from her eyes.

  “This is about that man in the suit, isn’t it?”

  She looked up, startled, then nodded. “You saw him?”

  “Who is he?”

  “I swear, Matt. I don’t know.”

  “Okay. What did he want?”

  “I told you Rory asked me for money.”

  Matt nodded. “Boy meets girl, et cetera.”

  “Well, Rory put me in touch with a friend of his who could set up a loan with a decent interest rate.” She stopped and uttered a harsh little sound that might have been a laugh. “And he promised he’d pay it back—that it was his debt and I wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.”

  Matt leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. He looked at his clasped hands rather than at Faith. People were scammed like this all the time. Everybody knew the stories. He’d have hoped Faith would be smarter than to believe Stockett’s lies.

  “Well, it was a decent rate, all right—for Rory,” she said bitterly. Her bottom lip started to tremble. “That man told me—he told me—that the five thousand dollars had gone up to ten thousand, and…” A sob interrupted her. Then another. She couldn’t go on.

  Matt shot up off the bed and walked over to the window, which looked out onto the parking lot behind Talk of the Town Café.

  Damn it. Stockett had set Faith up with a loan shark. If he could get his hands on the slick grifter, he’d—

  “Matt?” Faith’s voice sounded small and scared.

  He turned around. “Okay, what did he say he would do?”

  “He asked me if I had insurance on the café, and I told him I did. A hundred thousand. He said if I couldn’t come up with the ten thousand by Sunday, the café would burn and I’d collect the insurance. I could pay them and keep the rest.” She stopped and put her hands over her mouth. “Gram left this café to me. It’s all I have. And now I’m going to lose it.” She sniffed. “How could I have been so stupid?”

  Matt went over to her, bent down and took her hands in his. “Listen to me, Faith. Is there anything you have that you could liquidate to give them at least part of their payment?”

  “I don’t—wait!” A tad of color blushed across her cheeks. “Rory gave me an engagement ring. I didn’t throw it away or give it back to him. I thought he owed me something for my baby. I was saving it for her.”

  Matt had a feeling he knew what Faith was going to show him, but he smiled and nodded encouragingly. “Get it, and let’s take a look.”

  Faith went to her closet and dug around for a few seconds in the back and then came up with the ring. Matt was no expert at diamonds, but he knew how to tell if one was real. Diamonds were the hardest natural substance. He took the ring from her and took out his pocketknife.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trust me, Faith. If this ring is worth anything, my knife can’t hurt it.”

  Her face fell. “It’s fake, isn’t it? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

  Matt turned on her bedside table lamp and looked closely at the ring. It was a marquis cut solitaire. On its face, it was beautiful. He inspected the inside of the band. Nothing was stamped there. He turned it upside down and scraped the underside of the stone. Sure enough, the knife left a mark. Then he scraped the inside of the gold band that held the diamond. Minuscule flecks of gold appeared on the tip of his knife, leaving silver scratches on the surface of the band.

  He looked up. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, and it was clear that she was devastated. “What else should I expect from a man like him?”

  Taking the ring back, she slid it onto her finger and stared at it, as if remembering the night Rory had given it to her. Then she tugged it off and tossed it toward a trash can. It missed and bounced on the hardwood floor. “So much for saving the café,” she said wryly.

  “Don’t give up yet,” Matt said. “You own the café free and clear, right?”

  “Except for that stupid loan,” she answered.

  “Give me a little while. I’ll bet I can figure something out. What kind of papers did you sign?” he asked.

  “I’ll get them.”

  Matt looked at his watch. “Tell you what. You find them for me. Then you get back to work on the town hall meeting. Forget about the guy in the suit. I’ll see you later.”

  “Matt?”

  He looked up as Faith stepped closer to him. She lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Her lips were parted and her eyes, still sparkling with tears, seemed to be asking him a silent question.

  Matt wanted to back away. Okay, wanted was probably not the right word. He needed to back away, for both their sakes. But he couldn’t. He was held there, mesmerized by her blue eyes. He covered her hand with his and then leaned down and kissed her softly.

  To his amazement and delight, she kissed him back. Then the amazement and delight changed to something sweeter and sharper than anything he’d ever felt before. He moved in closer, turning the kiss from sweet to sexy. Faith followed where he led.

  But suddenly she pulled away.

  “No,” she muttered. “No, no, no.”

  “Faith?” Matt was left with an uncomfortable tightness in his jeans and a sense of bewilderment.

  She put a hand to her mouth and avoided his gaze. “I—I have to—you know—get some sleep. I have to be up early.”

  Matt backed toward the door. “Right,” he said, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I need to go, too. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  HOW MANY WAYS COULD she come up with to screw up her life? Faith thought as she splashed water o
n her face, hoping to erase the traces of tears—and of Matt’s kiss.

  For an instant, she allowed herself to relive that moment of bliss when their lips met. Something had happened to her in that tiny space of time. It wasn’t just a kiss—not for her. It was a promise, filled with strength and hope. Matt Soarez was a man worthy of trust.

  As soon as the thought formed in her head, she banished it. No. He wasn’t trustworthy. He was an itinerant worker—a drifter, just like Rory. And just like Rory he’d be gone in a flash.

  A lump rose in her throat as she thought of Rory. She’d believed he really loved her. She’d accepted his ring with trust and love. She hadn’t intended to get pregnant, but Rory had seemed thrilled. So she’d begun to think of them as a family: Rory, the baby and her.

  Then Rory started talking about buying a big rig and starting a trucking business. It would bring in good money, he’d told her. Eventually, he’d worn her down with his optimism and confidence.

  She’d agreed to take out a loan against her café, and Rory had agreed to pay it off. But as soon as he had the money, he was gone, leaving her devastated.

  But now she’d lived with the baby inside her for eight months. Carrying her child had given her inner strength and confidence in herself. She knew that she and her baby would be just fine alone.

  Faith rubbed her tummy. “Right, Li’l Bit?” she asked. “We can work together. Here’s what I need you to do. If I ever start thinking that I could have a future with Matt, you’ve got to kick me. Agreed?”

  To her surprise, a quick, sharp pain in her side gave her the baby’s answer.

  “Ouch,” she said. “That was good. Maybe not so hard, though.”

  AS THEY PREPARED FOR the dinner crowd the next evening, Faith asked Glo what she thought about Matt.

  “Here’s what I think,” Glo said, propping her fists on her hips. “I think you need to tell me what was going on last night.”

  “Going on?” Faith repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “Now you listen to me, girlie. I’ll go to Matt and get the information out of him if you don’t tell me. And I mean right now!”