Sugar Rush

by McIntyre, Anna J.

  “I’ll be back in the morning to make sure you’ve moved out. Leave my car in the garage. Don’t try to rent the house for February; I’ve already paid for the month.”

  Beaumont arrogantly walked past Jeff, obviously not concerned the young man might get physical. Their shoulders brushed, and Beaumont nudged Jeff aside. Standing in the doorway, preparing to exit, he turned around one last time and faced Jeff.

  “Stay away from my granddaughter. You totally fucked this thing up. I don’t know what the hell you thought you were doing encouraging her in this harebrained fudge business. If you think you can get your hands on my company by screwing my granddaughter, you’re even stupider than Lexi.”

  Had Lexi’s grandfather not been in his eighties, Jeff would have planted his fist in the man’s arrogant mug. He didn’t care what Beaumont said about him, but the way he talked about Lexi infuriated him. He silently watched as the elderly man made his way down the walkway. It was then Jeff noticed Ethan’s car parked across the street. He hadn’t noticed it when he’d come home from dinner.

  Five minutes later, he frantically paced the floor, the cell phone in his hand. He tried calling Lexi, but her answer machine picked up. When he sent her a text message, he received a response, but not from her. This is Angie. I’ve been instructed to delete your text messages. She doesn’t want to read them and neither do I. Delete.

  Sickened, Jeff considered his options. A few minutes later, he sat down at his computer and wrote Lexi a letter. After printing it out, he began to pack his things. He doubted he would be able to get a rental car this late in the evening, so he looked through the phone book, searching for a taxi or shuttle service to take him to a hotel. He stacked his suitcases by the front door, then went to the walk-in-closet and stared at the boxes neatly stacked along the wall.

  He already knew what he was going to do. It came to him when he was writing the letter. He couldn’t take the boxes with him; they belonged to Lexi. He couldn’t leave them in the house, because her grandfather would throw them away and then the old son of a bitch would go home and fire his housekeeper.

  One by one, Jeff carried the boxes to Lexi and Angie’s and set them by the front door. It took him twenty minutes before he finished delivering all the boxes, stacking them in neat piles. On the drive to Lake Havasu City, they had filled the back seat and trunk of the car, yet now it didn’t seem like there were that many, not when one considered they supposedly held everything Lexi owned when she left the estate. He wondered what that said about her life with her wealthy grandfather.

  After leaving the boxes, he brought over the items Lexi had left in his garage, including the EZ-UP, folding table, ice chest, and camp chairs.

  Jeff knocked on the door and waited.

  “I told you I would call the police. I mean it,” came Angie’s terse voice.

  “I understand, but I brought over Lexi’s things, and they’re here by the front door. I don’t want to just leave them. Someone might take them before morning.”

  Assuming he was talking about the items Lexi used at the swap meet, Angie told him to leave and promised she would bring in the things after he was gone. Jeff tucked the letter he’d written to Lexi in one of the boxes, then turned and headed back to his house. The boxes were still sitting outside when the shuttle service arrived to take him to the hotel.

  Chapter Twenty

  Angie peeked out the front window. She’d turned off the outside light forty minutes earlier and couldn’t see what Jeff had left on the porch. Lexi was in her bedroom, still sobbing inconsolably. Angie thought it was probably a good thing she didn’t own a firearm or she might have blown Jeff’s head off when he came pounding on the front door. He was gone now, and she figured it was probably safe going outside to bring in Lexi’s things. It wasn’t just Jeff she wanted to avoid; there was Ethan Beaumont to consider. Angie didn’t know if Lexi’s grandfather was one door down. Perhaps he was outside, waiting to bully his way into the house.

  Still peeking out the window, she flipped on the outside light, illuminating the front porch. To her surprise, a number of boxes were stacked on the pavers. She knew Lexi didn’t have that much stuff over at Jeff’s house. Cautiously, she unlocked the front door and opened it slightly, sticking her head outside.

  The moon illuminated the street and yard, and there didn’t seem to be anyone lurking in the shadows. Stepping on the porch, she walked to the stack of boxes and removed a lid from one. Frowning, she looked inside. It contained Lexi’s clothes; she recognized them. They weren’t clothes her friend had purchased at the thrift store after being exiled from the mansion. They were clothes Lexi had worn when she was still in college. Hastily, Angie removed some of the other lids, and saw the boxes contained Lexi’s belongings; things Ethan Beaumont confiscated when Lexi refused to marry Jerome Peters.

  Looking around nervously, Angie placed the lids back on the boxes, and then began bringing them into the house. She moved quickly, jittery that Jeff or Ethan might suddenly appear.

  After bringing in the boxes, she dragged in the EZ-UP, and then the folding table, ice chest and camp chairs. Before coming into the house, Angie ran to the end of the driveway and looked down the street, to the house Jeff had been renting. The lights were all out, and there was no car in the driveway. It looked as if no one was home. Running back to her house, Angie closed the door behind her and locked it.

  “Lexi?” Angie called out softly a few minutes later. She stood outside her friend’s bedroom, tapping her knuckles against the paneled door. There was no sound coming from the room. Lexi either had stopped crying, or had fallen asleep. Angie stopped knocking. She wondered if she should wait until the morning to tell Lexi about the boxes, and let her sleep. In the next moment, the door opened.

  “Yeah?” Lexi said wearily. Disheveled, Lexi looked at Angie through red-rimmed eyes. Her hair desperately needed combing, but neither girl cared.

  “You need to come see what is in the living room.”

  “It isn’t Jeff or my grandfather?” Lexi stepped backwards, into the bedroom.

  “No.” Angie reached out and took one of Lexi’s hands. “It isn’t a person. Come, you need to see this.”

  Lifelessly, Lexi let Angie lead her out into the living room, where she was confronted with a stack of boxes. “What’s this?” she asked with a frown.

  Angie let go of Lexi’s hand and walked around to the other side of the boxes, still facing her friend. “I think it’s all your stuff you left at your grandfather’s house.”

  “I don’t understand.” Lexi walked to the boxes and started removing the lids. “I still don’t understand; where did all this stuff come from?”

  “Jeff brought them over. Do you think your grandfather brought them to Havasu?”

  Lexi was considering that possibility when she froze, and started shaking her head. “No, Jeff’s had them all along.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw these boxes stacked in the master closet in Jeff’s bedroom.”

  “What did he say they were?”

  “I never asked. They were shoved to the back of the closet, and I just assumed they belonged to the owner of the house.”

  Lexi sat on the floor and started going through the boxes, one by one.

  “Wow. I never thought I’d see any of this again. I wonder why Grandfather gave this to Jeff.”

  “You think he did?”

  “I don’t see how else Jeff got my things.”

  “Would you like some green tea?”

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  Angie went to make some tea while Lexi sorted through the boxes. It didn’t take long to go through the first three; they contained clothes. The fourth box held some of her mementos that she’d stored in her closet back at her grandfather’s house. She wondered who had transferred her things from the boxes in her closet into these new ones. Shoes filled the fifth box. On top of the shoes was a folded piece of paper.

  Her first impulse was t
o toss the paper aside, believing it was trash, but then she paused and unfolded it. It was a typed letter. Her eyes flashed to the bottom of the page; it was from Jeff. A half an hour earlier, she would have torn it up and refused to read it. Since she’d stopped crying, she had started asking questions. Alone in her bedroom, there was no one to give her answers. Perhaps this letter would tell her what she needed to know.

  Dear Lexi, I am not asking you to forgive me, but I think you have the right to know what all of this is about. I hope you don’t tear up the letter before reading it, because I feel you need to know some things about your grandfather, and about me.

  Most of what I told you about me was not a lie. I’m from Portland. I have my master’s in business, and I did start working with my current employer right after college. What I didn’t tell you was that the company I work for belongs to your grandfather. Actually, he is no longer my current employer. Your grandfather fired me tonight, right before I was about to quit.

  When he kicked you out of the house, he gave me an unusual assignment. I was to keep an eye on you. His story at the time was that you were vulnerable, and he did not want someone taking advantage of you. I tried to tell him that was not within my job description—but I imagine you know how that went.

  I suspect there are several reasons he picked me. One, I was his personal assistant and had signed a confidentiality agreement, so he knew he could trust me to keep quiet. The second reason, when I was in college I worked for an electronic store, and I know my way around surveillance equipment.

  I was instructed to install surveillance equipment in your apartment to keep closer tabs on you. I confess I purchased the equipment, but I never installed it. When it came time to do so, I couldn’t. I didn’t know you and Angie at the time, but it felt too much like an invasion of your privacy, so I stalled your grandfather.

  I rented the apartment across the hall from you. I then realized I could no longer work for your grandfather under these conditions, so I started looking for another job. By the time you decided to go to Havasu, I knew your grandfather would send someone else if I refused to go and just quit.

  I need you to know; I never told your grandfather about your hot fudge venture. I was serious when I said I thought it was a great idea.

  I think I know why your grandfather wants you to marry Jerome Peters. Peters is the only person he trusts to take over his business. Since they are partners, Peters will continue to own a large share of the company when your grandfather dies. I believe the thought of the company being torn apart at that time, divided between the interests of his heirs and Peters’, troubles your grandfather. The only way he can feel secure that won’t happen is if Peter’s children are his great-grandchildren. To do that, Peters must marry you.

  Your grandfather’s behavior in all of this has not been rational, and I have to wonder if he is suffering from some age-related dementia. In his efforts to manipulate you, he even went so far as to instruct me to get hold of your checkbook, so he could find a way to drain your bank account. My response to him was that you had little money.

  My biggest regret is not coming to you sooner with what was going on. Ironically, I intended to tell you everything after dinner tonight, but then your grandfather showed up.

  After I finish this letter, I will bring over the boxes. If you are reading this, then you obviously have them. Your grandfather instructed the housekeeper to pack up your belongings and throw them out. She couldn’t bring herself to do that, but did not want to lose her job. I offered to take the boxes, and keep her secret. So please, no matter how much you hate me now, please don’t let your grandfather know you have them. If you do, she will undoubtedly lose her job.

  I am sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to do that. I think I first fell in love with you when I saw your portrait at your grandfather’s office. Maybe that is why I didn’t put up much of an argument when first given the assignment. It gave me the opportunity to get close to you.

  Please hold onto your dream. Don’t let your grandfather’s actions and my part in all this paralyze you.

  You have one secret weapon against the manipulations of your grandfather—and that is that he doesn’t know you. He really has no idea how bright, special, and creative you are.

  I’m leaving the house, and staying at a hotel tonight. I’ll have to rent a car to go back to California, because the one I was using belongs to the company. You need to know your grandfather has rented the Havasu house for February. I don’t know if he intends to use it, or install someone in it to watch you.

  If you need to contact me, you have my cell number. Please know, I am on your side, Lexi. I’ve always been.

  With love, Jeff

  Lexi sat frozen, holding the letter in her hands, staring at the words. She didn’t quite know what to think. Silent tears slid down her face.

  “Here’s your tea.” Angie walked into the living room carrying two cups of hot tea. She set Lexi’s cup on the glass coffee table. Lexi quickly wiped away the tears, using the back of her hand.

  “What are you reading?” Angie asked as she sat on the recliner.

  “It’s a letter from Jeff. It was in one of the boxes.”

  “Well, that was pretty sneaky of him, the jerk.”

  “Angie, I want you to read it and tell me what you think.”

  “Okay.” Angie set her tea on the side table and reached over, taking the sheet of paper from Lexi. Settling back in the chair, she read the letter while Lexi silently watched.

  “Wow,” Angie whispered when she finished. “He doesn’t sound like such a jerk.”

  “I don’t know what to think. I’m still numb.”

  “What do you want to do about your grandfather? Do you want to leave Havasu?”

  “No! Absolutely not. I refuse to spend the rest of my life running away from him. Eventually, he’ll get the message I won’t be forced into an arranged marriage. If he starts bothering me, I’ll go down to the police department and see about getting a restraining order.”

  “You think you can get one?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

  “Are you going to call Jeff?’

  “I don’t think so. I feel a little better about him. I suppose he was just another person my grandfather manipulated. I can understand he was trying to keep his job until he found something else. But the lies. If he had just been upfront with me, told me what my grandfather was up to… Instead, he chose to lie to me. I really can’t get beyond that.”

  “I understand,” Angie said sadly. “It was just that I really did like the guy.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  Neither one mentioned the fact that Jeff had professed his love in the letter. Yet, they both thought about it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Together, Angie and Lexi moved the boxes into the spare bedroom. Lexi was happy to be reunited with her wardrobe and other personal belongings. Most of the clothes were fairly wrinkled, so she shoved the outfits back into their respective boxes until laundry day.

  “Do you want to talk?” Angie asked when they were finished.

  “Not now. I just want to go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  Angie gave her friend a hug and told her to sleep well.

  The next morning, persistent knocking at the front door woke Angie. Cursing under her breath, she stumbled out of bed and pulled on her robe. The knocking continued. She walked to the living room and glanced down the hallway leading to Lexi’s room. Her friend was either sleeping or ignoring the noise.

  She looked through the front door’s peephole. It was Ethan Beaumont and another man she didn’t know. If she hadn’t recognized Lexi’s grandfather, she would have guessed they were Jehovah’s Witnesses, since both men wore business suits, and people rarely wore such formal attire in Havasu. Instead of answering the door, Angie opened the front living room window overlooking the porch.

  “What do you want?” Angie asked the men. The two seemed surprise when she called out.
Apparently neither one noticed her opening the window.

  “Would you please just open the door? I don’t want to talk through the window,” Ethan snapped.

  “No. You just woke me up, and Lexi is sleeping. What do you want?”

  “It’s almost ten in the morning. Get my granddaughter up. I want to see her now.”

  “No, Mr. Beaumont. You upset Lexi last night, and I certainly don’t appreciate you having my apartment bugged.”

  “I never bugged your apartment, young lady. Now please, I want to see my granddaughter. Now,” Ethan snapped. He was clearly losing patience. The second man stood stoically, revealing no emotion.

  Angie shut the window and locked it. Instead of opening the front door, she went to Lexi’s room.

  “What’s all that noise?” Lexi asked groggily when Angie walked into her room.

  “It’s your grandfather; he’s pounding on the front door. He has some man with him.”

  “Oh, shit. I don’t want to see him. What did he say?”

  “For starters, we shouldn’t sleep so late.”

  “Oh, that’s so my grandfather. He believes everyone should be up by six.”

  Lexi sat up in her bed, holding the top of the comforter so it covered her bare breast. Angie grabbed the robe at the foot of the bed and tossed it to Lexi, who quickly put it on.

  “So, what does this other man look like?”

  “Short, reddish hair, older dude. Kinda pudgy.”

  “Not a clue. Wondered for a moment if he brought Jerome Peters.”

  “I know what Peters looks like. It isn’t him. So, do you want to talk to him?”

  “Not really, I have nothing to say.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him you don’t want to see him.”

  Angie returned to the living room and opened the window.

  “She says she doesn’t want to see you,” Angie told him.