Second-Chance Sweet Shop

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Second-Chance Sweet Shop Page 10

by Rochelle Alers


  Sasha attempted to stifle a yawn as he drove out of the parking lot. “Sleepy or full?”

  “Both,” she admitted, smiling. “Thank you for inviting me to come with you.”

  “Anytime.”

  “How often do you come for Military Monday?”

  “I try to make it at least once and no more than twice a month. I really like hanging out at the lake house.”

  “What you really like is fishing.”

  Dwight gave Sasha a quick glance. “Yup. It’s the only thing I like better than dentistry.” A beat passed, and then he asked, “Do you fish?”

  “Some.”

  “How much is some, Sasha?”

  “Just say I’ve learned to fly-fish.”

  Dwight’s teeth shone whitely in the glow of the illumination coming from the dashboard. “Are you saying you’ve mastered the wrist action?”

  “Some,” Sasha repeated.

  “We’ll have to see how much ‘some’ you have if you ever decide to join Kiera and me at the lake.”

  “How about your mother? Does she ever join you?”

  “She did when I first bought the place, but she’s not much for roughing it.”

  “Does roughing it translate into bathing in the lake?” Sasha questioned.

  “Nah,” Dwight said, laughing. “The house has all the comforts of home with indoor plumbing, hot and cold running water, electricity, heat and air-conditioning. There are quite a few retirees who live there year-round.”

  “How secluded is it?”

  “Just say you have to know where you’re going to find it. Anytime you need a break and want to escape for a day or two, just let me know and I’ll make it happen.”

  “It sounds tempting.”

  Dwight heard the hesitation in her voice and wondered if she thought he had an ulterior motive for inviting her. “The cabin has two bedrooms, and there’s also a loft that sleeps a third person.”

  “I’ll definitely think about it.”

  “My invitation comes with no strings attached, and because of this I promise you nothing physical can ever happen between us.”

  “Do you really find me so unattractive that I repulse you that much? I constantly overhear customers that come into the shop tell Kiera that she’s a beauty just like her mother.”

  Dwight did not want to believe what had just come out of Sasha’s mouth as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Your ex must have really done a number on you if you believe you’re not an attractive woman, Sasha.”

  “Leave my ex out of this.”

  “Why?” he countered.

  “Because I don’t want to talk about him.”

  Signaling, Dwight maneuvered off the road and came to a stop where he would be out of the path of coming traffic. Shifting into Park, he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to look at Sasha. “We don’t have to talk about him, but I think we need to straighten out a few details so you can understand where I’m coming from.” Her eyes appeared abnormally large as she stared at him. Reaching over, he rested his hand on the nape of her neck, his fingertips pressed against the runaway pulse. “You don’t have to concern yourself with me trying to get you to go to bed with me, and it’s not because I don’t find you attractive. But our sleeping together would only complicate things for both of us. My daughter works for you and the situation could become somewhat awkward if or when we broke up.”

  * * *

  Sasha was mute for a full minute as she replayed what Dwight had just told her. She’d asked him if he’d found her unattractive because whenever she was out with Grant, he would compare her to other women he’d claim he found more beautiful. And to a small-town girl who rarely wore makeup and bought her clothes off the rack, Sasha had always believed she would never be able to compete with the more glamorous wives of the other recording stars. Even after she hired a dresser who selected her clothes and a makeup artist taught her what to use to enhance her best features, the insecurities lingered.

  She did not want to talk about her ex-husband, because she couldn’t. She’d signed a nondisclosure agreement not to divulge the details of their marriage because to do so could negatively impact the wholesome country-boy image his publicist had created for him. Only her mother knew, after she’d sworn her to secrecy, what she’d had to go through during her five-year marriage.

  “I only asked if you found me unattractive because I know how everyone talks about how beautiful Kiera’s mother is,” she lied smoothly.

  Dwight’s fingertips feathered over the column of her neck. “It’s not about how a woman looks on the outside, Sasha. Some women are like an apple—beautiful on the outside, but once you bite into it you discover it’s rotten to the core. You’re one of those rare finds who’s beautiful inside and out.”

  Sasha didn’t know if Dwight was telling her she was beautiful because he thought that was what she wanted to hear, yet there was something in his voice and reassuring touch that lessened her despair and filled her with a sense of strength she didn’t know she had. Something unknown communicated that Dwight was good to and for her even if they never became lovers. He had proved that during the time they’d spent at the Wolf Den. She’d found him attentive and protective whenever a man appeared to express an interest in her. He would place a proprietary arm around her shoulders or kiss her hair, silently signaling she wasn’t available.

  She’d admitted to her mother that one day if or when she married again it would be for love, and having Dwight as a friend was a bonus, given her dearth of experience when it came to men. She’d slept with one man before Grant, and if or when she slept with the next one, she prayed it would be her last.

  Sasha rested her head on Dwight’s shoulder. “You are so good for a woman’s ego.”

  “It’s about the truth and not my attempting to boost your ego, Sasha. I’ve been divorced a lot longer than you have, so it’s going to be a while before you stop blaming yourself for what you did or didn’t do.”

  A trembling smile parted her lips. “You think?”

  “I know,” he said confidently. “Now, it’s time I get you home so you can get your beauty rest.”

  Sasha wanted to tell Dwight that not only was he good for her, but also good to her. He was the first man who’d treated her like an equal, and for that she was grateful. The man she’d given her virginity to would go into jealous rages and reprimand her like a father with a child whenever he’d believed she wasn’t being attentive enough. And she did not want to think about Grant, who calculatingly found ways to emotionally abuse her because he’d believed there wasn’t enough room in their marriage for two celebrities.

  Dwight secured his seat belt and the remainder of the drive was completed in silence, and when he maneuvered into the driveway to her home, Sasha knew she wasn’t the same person she’d been when she’d opened the door for him. She waited for him to come around and help her down.

  “Thank you for a wonderful time.”

  Dwight angled his head. “Does this mean you want to do it again?”

  Sasha smiled. “Of course. And I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go fly-fishing with you and Kiera.”

  “That’s a bet.”

  “Good night, Dwight.”

  “Good night, Sasha. I’ll text you later in the week about when to expect me to pick you up for the dinner dance.”

  “Okay.” She turned and walked up the steps to the house, unlocked the door, and then closed and locked it behind her.

  “How did it go?”

  Sasha turned to find her mother in a nightgown and bathrobe standing in the middle of the living room holding a glass of water. “How did what go?”

  “Your date with Dwight.”

  Bending slightly, Sasha kicked off her shoes. “It really wasn’t a date.”

  “I’m not so old that I don’t know when a man com
es to a woman’s home to take her out that it’s a date.”

  “All right, Mama. It was a date. And it was perfect.”

  “That’s all I need to know. Good night.”

  Sasha watched her mother walk across the living room to the staircase. “Good night, Mama. By the way, do you want to know if he kissed me?”

  Charlotte stopped halfway. “No. That’s too much information. Don’t stay up too late.”

  Sasha smiled. “I won’t.”

  She’d planned to be in bed by ten. Her workday usually began between five and six in the morning and ended twelve hours later. And now that Aiden Gibson wanted her to bake for the Den, she knew hiring an assistant sooner rather than later was now a priority. As she climbed the staircase to the second story, she smiled when she thought about the hours she’d spent with Dwight. And she’d been truthful with her mother when she admitted it was a date and that it was perfect. And as perfect as she found Dwight, Sasha realized she could not afford to lose focus. Not when she needed all her energy to grow her business.

  * * *

  Dwight sat up in bed with a mound of pillows cradling his back and shoulders, staring at the images on the flat screen. It was past midnight and he knew he should’ve been sleeping instead of watching the encore of basketball playoff games.

  After dropping Sasha off, he’d come home to find a note from his mother that Kiera had decided to stay with her rather than have a sleepover with the neighbor’s daughter. He wondered what Victoria had said or done to entice her granddaughter to sleep in the guesthouse. Dwight had given up completely lecturing Victoria about turning into the indulgent grandparent as she attempted to give or take Kiera whatever and wherever she wanted.

  Against his protestations, Victoria had gifted Kiera with a pair of diamond studs, totaling two carats, for her sixteenth birthday. The earrings had been a gift to her from her husband for their twentieth wedding anniversary. He much would’ve preferred his mother give his daughter a strand of her pearls, but Victoria overrode him when she said it was her right to give her only grandchild whatever she wanted. Dwight had not missed his mother’s backhanded reminder that her only child had elected to give her only one grandchild. However, it wasn’t his mother or daughter that kept him from going to sleep but Sasha. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her about their not sleeping together.

  Was he attracted to her? The answer was yes.

  He’d asked himself did he like her, and again the answer was a resounding yes.

  But the defining question was the probability of his sleeping with her. And if he were truly honest, his body said yes while his head said no.

  Dwight realized his ambivalence about Sasha stemmed from two factors: she was his daughter’s employer, and she lived in Wickham Falls. He wasn’t bothered if they were seen together out and about because they were friends—without benefits. What he couldn’t understand was Sasha believing he’d found her unattractive, and he wondered if she was conscious of the differences in their race, and of the fact that Adrienne, at the age of sixteen, had won a beauty contest.

  Well, the quiet, talented redhead did not have to concern herself about her appearance. What she failed to realize was that not only was she cute, but she claimed an understated sexiness he found appealing.

  Picking up the remote device, he turned off the television and rearranged the pillows, so he lay in a more comfortable position. Sleep was slow in coming, and when it did, he temporarily forgot about the sweetness of Sasha’s mouth when they kissed; the subtle hypnotic scent of her perfume that had lingered in the Jeep when she was no longer there. But an image of the way she innocently lowered her eyes and glanced up at him through her lashes visited him in an erotic dream. It served as a reminder of how long it had been since he’d slept with a woman.

  Chapter Seven

  Sasha felt like the hamster she saw in a pet shop running around on a wheel until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. She was overtired and close to burnout. Even when she’d sat at Adele Harvey’s bedside around the clock for three days, leaving only to shower and change her clothes, she hadn’t felt this fatigued.

  Aiden Gibson, as promised, had called her to place an order for six cakes: coconut cream, bourbon-pecan pound, German chocolate, chocolate-raspberry truffle, strawberry cheesecake and red velvet.

  Langston Cooper had come by the shop to inquire when she would be available for an interview, and again she told him she did not have the time. She had also put off meeting with Georgina Powell with the excuse that if Georgi came by her house late in the evening, she would set aside time for them to talk. She had just finished decorating the last of three dozen cupcakes with colorful tulips for a mother who wanted to take them to school for her daughter’s eighth birthday when Kiera entered the kitchen.

  “Miss Sasha, there’s a Miss Campos asking to see you.”

  “Tell her I’ll be right there.” She set down the piping bag and discarded the disposable gloves. Using Russian piping tips to create leaves and colorful flowers, she’d decorated all the cupcakes in less than ten minutes. Pressed for time, Sasha had called in her prior experience when she’d been a contestant in a timed competition.

  Sasha walked into the front of the shop to find Nicole Campos sitting at one of the three bistro tables. She now could count on regular customers who came in most mornings to order coffee and the daily special. It seemed so long ago that she’d come to Preston McAvoy’s office to retain the attorney to file an application to set up a corporation. She knew Nicole was just as shocked to see her as she was to discover that Nicole now worked for the law firm.

  She took a chair opposite Nicole, immediately noticing obvious changes in the woman who’d attained the rank of captain in the Corps piloting Black Hawk helicopter gunships. Her face was fuller than when she last saw her, and her hair had grown out of the pixie cut. Even her tawny-brown complexion was darker, as if she’d spent time in the sun.

  “Congratulations on your engagement.” Word had traveled quickly around The Falls that Fletcher Austen and Nicole had gotten engaged. And she could count on her mother to keep her abreast of local gossip. Charlotte tended to talk to everyone who came into the shop.

  Nicole’s eyes went to the diamond ring on her left hand, as a slight blush further darkened her delicate features. “Thank you.”

  “Have you set a date?”

  Nicole nodded. “Yes. That’s why I’ve come to see you about a wedding cake.”

  “When do you need it?” Sasha asked.

  Lowering her eyes, Nicole focused on her outstretched hands. “A week from this coming Saturday. I know it’s short notice,” she said quickly. “But Fletcher is insisting we marry before I start showing.”

  “You’re pregnant.” The query had come out like a statement.

  Nicole nodded again. “I just completed my first trimester, and even though I’m willing to wait until after I have the baby to get married, Fletcher says he doesn’t want to be labeled a baby daddy.”

  Good for him, Sasha mused. There were some men in town who had chosen not to marry the women who’d had their children, preferring instead to live their lives by their leave. Fletcher Austen, a former decorated soldier, had become a much sought-after bachelor once he returned to civilian life to work in his family-owned auto repair business.

  “How many people are you inviting?” It would be the first wedding cake she would bake since opening the shop.

  Nicole shrugged under the suit jacket she’d put on over a white cotton man-tailored shirt. “I’m not sure. Fletcher keeps adding folks to the list, so right now it’s anyone’s guess. Of course, our families are invited, but then he began contacting some of the people he served with. I didn’t want to be outdone, so I invited some of my buddies from the Corps. He just told me this morning that he’s also invited everyone who hangs out at the Den on Military Monday.”

/>   Sasha did not envy Nicole, and she wondered if Dwight had received an invitation. She knew what went into planning a wedding, but to continually add names to the guest list was certain to create premarital problems. “I need a ballpark figure, Nicole. Fifty. Seventy-five.”

  Nicole threw up her hands. “Make it a hundred. I’d rather have too much than not enough. I refuse to let this wedding stress me out. I intend to show up, say my vows, eat, dance, and then go to bed and sleep until nature or hunger force me to get up.”

  Sasha laughed. “Where do you plan to hold the wedding and reception?”

  “Everything will be done at the house. We’ve already ordered a tent, tables, chairs, DJ, and the Gibsons are going to cater the food. I told Fletcher I want simplicity and not some catering hall where people have to get all dressed up.”

  “Come into the back with me, where we can talk about what type of cake you want.” Sasha smiled at Kiera, who’d just handed a customer a box filled with an assortment of muffins she’d baked earlier that morning. Most days she was able to sell out most of what she’d made that day. “Are you certain you don’t want something to eat?” she asked Nicole again once they were seated in the area she’d set aside as her office.

  “I just ate, so I’m good for another few hours.”

  Forty-five minutes later Sasha had entered every detail for the cake for the Campos-Fletcher nuptials into the desktop. Nicole had chosen a romantic look of pale pink hearts and flowers on tri-level stands, positioned at six, twelve and nineteen inches in height. Each cake, eight, ten and twelve inches in diameter, would serve at least one hundred guests. It took Nicole longer to select the cake, and eventually she decided on red velvet and carrot, both with cream-cheese fillings, and a classic white with confetti sprinkles.

 

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