“Corden, calm down. Dinner is going to be ready in a moment, and you know you’ll lose your appetite if you get too irate,” my mom piped up, shooting my dad a warning glare.
He completely ignored my mother and turned toward me. “They are meeting to finalize their media campaign.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as though it hurt him to relay the details to me. “I am afraid they are going to strike, Cy. I need you to stop this meeting. Stop the media from finding out.”
“I don’t know how to do that, Dad.” At this point, I was getting close to telling him to get Clem or Carson to take over. I was sick of all this sneaking around, not to mention betraying the trust of the friends I’d made like Jolie, Colleen, Buster and a few other bakery employees.
“Cy,” my mother took over, taking a cue from the red, angry rage spreading across my father’s cheeks. He looked as though he was going to blow a gasket at any moment.
“What, Mom? I’m doing the best I can, for fuck’s sake!” I snapped at her.
“Don’t you use that kind of language in front of your mother!” my dad berated me. “You are skating on thin ice, Son. If you can’t find out who is organizing this effort and stop the media from finding out—stop them from striking and interfering with the operation of the park—then you can kiss your inheritance goodbye. You can kiss all our support goodbye, in fact.”
“What? You can’t do that, Dad. That’s not fair!” I protested, glancing back and forth between him and my mother, hoping at least she would be on my side.
“Cy, we’ve been trying to get you to grow up and take responsibility for your future for years,” my mother said in her soft yet still completely patronizing voice. “We’ve given you this mission as a way of proving that you’re a real adult and that you’re committed to helping your brothers run Sweetopia after we retire. We are getting up there in age, darling. We need our three sons to step up and fill our shoes—and soon. We would like to retire after the next summer season.”
My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. “Next summer? Why so soon?”
“Your dad’s health isn’t in the best shape. His doctor thinks it’s time for him to retire. He’s under too much stress,” she explained.
I looked over at Dad, but he just stared at the television like he wasn’t listening to her talk about him. Then, just when I thought he wasn’t paying attention, he whipped his head to face me.
“Your brother has been doing some surveillance of his own,” he shared. “And it’s become clear you’ve befriended the The Red Velvet Queen…a woman by the name of Jolie Cox. Is that true?”
Fuck. No one was supposed to know that. Except Colleen, but she only figured it out because she could read it all over me when Jolie was around.
“Yeah, so?” I didn’t like where this was going. I could just tell I wasn’t going to like it.
“Well, there is considerable evidence that she is involved in this employee uprising,” my dad continued. “If you were doing your job like we asked, you would have already known that.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know she’s planning to go to the meeting, but I don’t think she’s involved in the organization.”
“What about your boss, Colleen Neese?” my mom fired at me.
My jaw clenched as I struggled to keep my volume from rising defensively. “She’s planning to attend, but, again, I don’t think she is in charge. She said she had to check with some other people. To me, that means she doesn’t know herself. I am trying to get the details so I can be there, Dad. And I will record it.”
“It’s probably a cover-up,” my mom theorized. “I told you when you promoted Colleen to management she was going to be a problem.” She shook her head and let out a deep sigh. “But do you ever listen to me?”
“We’ve got Ms. Cox on camera passing notes to some other employees in the hallways of the castle, and her assistant has delivered some notes to her on the throne. The throne room is full of cameras, as you know, as are the hallways and tunnels,” my father continued, once again not bothering to acknowledge my mother.
“So what?” I could no longer hide my exasperation. “Why is nothing I do ever good enough for you two? I just said I’m going to infiltrate the meeting. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”
“You have a relationship with Ms. Cox,” my dad fired back, his voice now lowering to the same level I always heard him use with William and the rest of his executive staff at work. It’s his business tone. If it came out, it meant you were expected to comply with his wishes. No ifs, ands, or buts. “You need to leverage that to stop the organizers from going to the media. And you need to make sure the employees don’t strike.”
“How do you expect me to pull that off? I’m just a summer temp. I have no fucking power.”
“Cyrus Anthony Sweet!” my mother gasped. “Quit stressing your father out and do as you’re told. If you can’t handle this assignment, then there won’t be a Sweetopia for you and your brothers to inherit. Do you understand?”
I simply nodded, turned on my heel and marched toward the front door. I had suddenly lost my appetite. I tried my best not to slam the door behind me, but it was still a little slammy despite my best efforts.
I got in my stupid beat-up truck that I couldn’t wait to quit driving, consoling myself with the fact that my trip to Greece was only a week away. I couldn’t wait to bask in paradise, soaking in the Santorini sunshine and feeling the warm waters of the Aegean Sea gently lap at my feet. If only I could take Jolie with me. Then I would be looking forward to it even more. Then it truly would be paradise.
Jolie
“So do you want to go out with him?” my mom pressed as we cleaned up the dishes from dinner. The house was so quiet without River there. Reed was in his room doing homework. I’d stopped by the hospital after work, and Mom was going to run over there while I got Reed ready for bed and tucked in. Then I would go and spend the night with River on the tiny fold out sofa in his cramped room.
“I don’t know, Mom, he’s so much younger than me!” It was the handiest excuse I could think of. I’d been thinking about Marcus asking me out on a date ever since he left my dressing room two and a half hours ago, and I had a feeling the topic was going to haunt my dreams all night, too.
“How much younger?” My mom’s brows quirked.
“Five years? Six? He has a degree in art history,” I filled her in.
“Art history?” Her nose wrinkled up. “What is he going to do with that?”
“Work at Sweetopia?” I joked. “Did I mention he’s British?”
“British! Does he have an accent?” My mom put her hand to her chest as though she was experiencing a swoon. Though it could have been a hot flash. She’d had a lot of those lately.
I nodded. “Yeah, and he wears glasses.”
“Jolie, he sounds like your dream man!” My mother giggled as she laid a hand on my shoulder. “Is he nice? Gentlemanly?”
I had to chuckle. She seemed as taken with Marcus as I was, and she hadn’t even met him. She was generally quite skeptical about any man who showed an interest in me; she had been since Reed’s father had broken our engagement after learning I was pregnant and planned to carry the baby. He wanted me to have an abortion.
I’d always pictured myself as a mom. My own mom had always been my best friend, and when my father passed away around the time River was born, my mother needed me as much as I needed her. That’s when she moved in, and we’d been roommates ever since. I didn’t know what I would do without her. She was my rock. All I knew growing up is that I wanted to be that rock for my own children.
So when I got pregnant with Reed, even though I was young, I knew I could handle it. I’d learned from the best. I just figured Robbie, his dad, and I would get married a little earlier than we expected. I never thought he’d abandon me.
And then a few years later, Tim, River’s father walked out of my life too. Except I knew that one wouldn’t last. He was a “rock star”—in that he had a ban
d and he drank too much. But he had glasses and that intellectual side I’d always been attracted to. The rock star persona didn’t do a damn thing for me, but the fact that he quoted Walt Whitman to me on our first date? That got him in my pants.
“I think you should go,” my mother decided, drying her hands on the dish towel before tossing it on the counter. “When was the last time you went out and had fun?”
“Um, is that a rhetorical question?” I narrowed my eyes at her. She knew damn well I hadn’t been out since River was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis three years ago. I had a couple of girlfriends I hung out with before that, but then I ended up having to leave that job because the health insurance was even worse than what they offered at Sweetopia. I’d kind of lost touch with those girls, and since then, I hadn’t made any girlfriends my own age. The closest was Colleen at work, and she had to be at least ten years older than me.
“I’m serious, Jolie. You need a few hours off. You work sixty hours a week. You Mom 24/7/365. Everyone needs a break,” my mother said. “And when one gets an opportunity to go on a date with a hot British nerd with glasses, one does not say no!”
“Hmm, words to live by,” I teased her.
“They are important words! They oughta be on a t-shirt or something!” My mother laughed and put her arm around my shoulder. “So how about this: you stop by and see River after work tomorrow, then go on your date. I’ll stay here with Reed until you get home, then I’ll go spend the night with River. You shouldn’t have to sleep on that blasted fold-out more than one night anyway.”
“Oh, Mom, I can’t ask you to do that!”
“You’re not asking. I’m insisting.” She set her lips in a firm, straight line. “And that’s the way it’s going to be. Capiche?”
Her Italian was coming out. She was half-Italian on her mother’s side and a mix of German, British and Native American on her dad’s. But it was always the Italian that came out when she set her mind to something. She always said her mother was the most stubborn woman in the world. I don’t remember my grandmother that well, but it’s hard to imagine her being any more stubborn than my mother.
“Fine, Mom,” I conceded, watching her face light up with an excited smile. She was truly happy for me, and it was the first time I’d seen that expression on her face in a long time.
I finished up with Reed, getting him all ready for bed, before heading out to my car so I could drive to the hospital. The night sky was glittering with a million stars, and I couldn’t help but pick out a few constellations as I settled myself behind the wheel. The Big Dipper. Cassiopeia, the latter one notable since she was a queen, and so was I. At least I played one during work hours.
I took out my phone and pulled up the number I’d put in for Marcus. I took a deep breath and composed a text: Did you see the stars tonight?
Much to my surprise, he texted back immediately: Good evening, my Queen.
I nearly swooned just from that alone.
And then: I did see the stars. There’s a nice view of Cygnus the Swan tonight.
Holy shit, he knew astronomy too. Turns out I’m free tomorrow night, I told him.
Marcus: Me too. Whatever should we do?
Me: Hey, you’re the one who asked me out!
Marcus: I will think of something. What time?
Me: Seven?
Marcus: Perfect. Can I pick you up?
Me: Just give me an address.
Marcus: I will. See you tomorrow, Your Royal Highness.
Me: I told you, I’m not going to look like the queen outside of work.
Marcus: You’ll always be a queen to me.
9
Jolie
I pulled up to the address Marcus left for me. It was a really nice area of Naples, but then again, there were a lot of nice areas in Naples. Lots of rich people lived here. I wouldn’t be living here at all if it wasn’t where Sweetopia was located. We were in Fort Myers before, back when I worked at Barney’s.
It got depressing sometimes to drive around and look at all the oceanfront mansions. It always made me wonder what I did wrong in life to end up on the other side of the tracks as a single mom supporting three other people working two shitty jobs. Did I royally fuck up somewhere along the way? Did I not suck the right dick? Maybe I just needed to march myself up to Mr. Sweet’s office and get down on my knees. Then maybe he’d give me a raise and a health insurance policy that actually took care of my kids instead of this bullshit they offered us.
Who knew how much I was going to end up shelling out after River’s current hospital visit?
Fuck. River looked so little in that hospital bed tonight. He was excited I’d brought him a new video game to play. I tried to find something educational, as usual. Boy, my kids were going to be mad when they got a little older and realized there were games out there that were purely for fun and didn’t try to teach you anything. Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.
The breeze coming off the water blew the dress I was wearing around my knees. I felt weird, almost naked, showing up at Marcus’s door with my legs bare. He’d never seen them. And I’d worn my hair down. He was probably going to freak when he found out I had rather mousy, nondescript brown hair and not the lovely, long raven locks of my Red Velvet Queen wig.
I took a deep breath and depressed the doorbell outside condo #4. Each building had four units, and his was on the far right next to the golf course’s hole #9. I’d spent a little longer at the hospital than I’d planned, and now it was 7:30. Oops. I promised my mom I’d be home by nine. It didn’t look like that was going to happen unless we made this date super fast.
“Jolie!” Marcus exclaimed as he swung the door open. He just stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open as he took in the image of my real, true self.
I waited for him to say something, anything. He looked only slightly different: no pink polo shirt but a black t-shirt instead. It had a V-neck and was fitted around his biceps just like his work uniform was. His hair was the same. Same glasses. Yeah, he was pretty much the same outside of Sweetopia.
“Wow,” he stammered, and I couldn’t tell if it was a good wow or a bad wow.
I was afraid it was a bad wow. I was too different. I wasn’t his fantasy any longer. I had ruined it.
But before I could dwell any further on my abject failure, he swept me into his arms, threading his fingers through my real hair as he drew me into his embrace. His lips crashed into mine, leaving me breathless and my mind hopelessly blank.
He pulled back, his hands on my shoulders as his gaze bounced between my eyes. “Jolie…I don’t know what to say…”
“Me either.” Truer words had never been spoken.
“You look different, but even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I like it.” His lips cracked into a smile. “No, I love it.” The way his eyes continued to wander down my bare arms to the smocked bodice of my sundress and then down to my hips where the fabric billowed out in the evening breeze coming off the water sent tingles up and down my spine.
“Are we going somewhere?” I squeaked out, feeling nearly naked under his intense stare.
But it was different than I expected. Not judgmental. It was a stare of appreciation. Adoration. I never expected him to look at me with even more desire than he did when I was in costume, but here he was proving me oh so very wrong.
His fingertips grazed my bare shoulder, the touch burning through me like his fingers were made of flames. I shuddered, and, to my surprise, it elicited the softest, deepest moan, rumbling up his throat like distant thunder.
“I have to be honest with you, Jolie…” His words trailed off as he locked his eyes on mine. “I don’t want to go anywhere…”
“You don’t?”
He bit his lower lip as he shook his head. “No, I’m starving, but all I can think about eating is you. Every. Last. Delicious. Inch.” Between each word he planted a kiss along my neck and chest till my knees began to give way, and I fell back into his embrace.
“I’d be okay with that,” I managed. Eating actual food was the furthest thing ever from my thoughts at the moment. “I can’t stay that long, though…”
He didn’t question the time limit I was trying to impose; he only reached up to slide the thin strap of my sundress down my arm. “Your skin is so smooth…so beautiful. I really want to see the rest of you.”
I held my breath and gave a little nod. Permission acquired, he began to lift the dress up over my head. I was wearing a strapless bra underneath, and I watched his gaze immediately fall to my ample breasts rising and falling in their lacy confines. I hoped his attention would stay there instead of lingering on my stretch marks and the slightly sagging skin around my middle. Not to mention my wide hips and thick thighs, which were so expertly concealed in the ballgown I wore as The Red Velvet Queen.
“Breathtaking,” is all he said as he moved in a circle around me, pressing soft kisses to my shoulders and moving my hair out of the way to brush a kiss against the back of my neck. I shivered as he made his way back to stand in front of me. There was something so reverent in his gaze, worshipful. I couldn’t believe that the real me seemed to be meeting his expectations. Maybe exceeding them.
I might as well let my true self out. I was no wallflower. I was a Domme, for fuck’s sake. Not some shy, demure virgin. If I was going to show him my true self, I should show him all of it. Nothing held back.
“Have you ever been with an older woman before?” I asked, my courage ramping up.
What’s the worst that could happen? I asked myself. That was usually a dangerous question to pose, and I had suffered the curse of that naïve nod to optimism more than once, but in this case it was clear he was drinking me in, loving everything his gaze and fingers and mouth stumbled upon.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 52
