not just take the book and run?
As he watched Mae carry in a small box, he rushed to take it from her. “Here, Mama Mae, I got it,” he said, having already picked up on the nickname the small staff called her by.
She smiled up at him with gratitude and brown eyes full of trust. “Thank you, El, that was starting to get a little heavy.” She chuckled, reaching back to stroke her lower back. “These old bones can’t do what they used to.” She glanced down at his clinging shirt. “El, do you usually work in these kinda clothes?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t.” He laughed. “I just rushed off this morning without a change.”
Eliot realized this was the problem. This woman, who reminded him too much of his mother. Her blind trust and acceptance of him was like a fragile glass vase that he was contemplating smashing on the floor. He had to do it. Uncle Carl would expect him to do it. But somehow he could not bring himself to do it, he thought.
He was restocking the box racks in the front of the store when Eliot saw Wayne’s old pickup truck pull up. The moment of truth had arrived.
He climbed down from the racks and he waited inside the door, surprised by his own nervousness. It wasn’t like Sophie Mayfield was truly his employer, after all.
As Eliot watched Wayne open the passenger door and help the young woman inside position herself on her crutches, he was surprised by her youth. She was petite, with long, brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. At first glance, she didn’t seem to be much older than Dante and Lonnie. Listening to the others’ descriptions, he’d expected something akin to a force of nature.
Using the crutches, she limped toward the front door, and Wayne walked at her side before holding the door open for her. Glancing up, Wayne’s eyes met Eliot’s for a moment, and it was clear to Eliot that Wayne was expecting him to be instantly rebuked. Eliot’s mouth twisted, as he considered what the other man might have told her about him.
She limped to the entrance as the crutches bunched her shirt beneath her arms and Eliot found himself temporarily distracted by a smooth expanse of brown-skinned tummy revealed.
She stopped beside his car, looking at it for a long moment. Eliot would have paid anything to know what she was thinking. Then she continued limping toward the door.
In a way, she was almost as fragile as Mae, he thought, sighing heavily. These were no greedy moguls hungry for money and power. What had he wandered into here? he wondered.
As he was considering simply confessing the truth and reissuing his offer to buy them out, her eyes came up and met his, and all bets were off.
The sharp-witted soul that stared back at him from those eyes was no child. And Eliot knew in an instant that she was already considering the truth. That he was not who he said he was. He saw the questions in those amber brown depths, probing, and thinking. And Eliot knew this was his true adversary.
This was no sweet old lady who reminded him of his mother. His eyes roamed over her shapely form. No…nothing about her made him think of his mother. And despite her size and the crutches, she was about as helpless as a black widow.
She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Everything from her large, almond-shaped eyes and sharp little nose to full, shapely lips that had him licking his as he considered how soft hers would be. All covered in flawless mahogany skin that had the pads of his fingertips tingling with the need to touch her.
She looked as if she should be traipsing across the state in beauty pageants, not here running a small bakery and becoming a thorn in his side. And Eliot fought a smile, as he saw desire reflected in her dark brown eyes. They fairly twinkled with surprise and interest. Despite his grungy appearance after a day of working harder than he had in ten years, she liked what she saw, he thought. Eliot wasn’t a vain man, but he knew when a woman found him attractive.
Then she smiled, perfect white teeth so bright they could rival the sun. “Welcome to the Mayfield Bakery, Mr…”
“Montagna. Elberto Montagna, but my friends call me El.”
“Nice to meet you, El. I’m Sophie Mayfield.”
“Mayfield?” El frowned slightly.
“Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you this morning, but as you can see something came up.” She laughed. “The floor—when I hit it.”
Eliot smiled, liking her already.
“You’re back!” Lonnie came charging out of the back headed straight for Sophie, but Wayne quickly intercepted the girl and caught Lonnie up against him. The momentum knocked him back a step and Eliot realized the impact would’ve knocked Sophie down.
Two things occurred to him at once. The quickness with which Wayne stepped in to protect Sophie spoke of an intimate connection. Eliot didn’t want to dwell on that. And the second was that Lonnie had not realized she would knock Sophie down. Suddenly the blank look to her eyes made sense. She was apparently mentally challenged. It was fairly obvious at first meeting, and the people who loved her were aware of her shortcomings and compensated for them.
From Wayne’s arm, Lonnie’s enthusiasm did not diminish even slightly. “You’re back! You’re back!”
Eliot watched as Sophie braced her body and nodded to Wayne to release her, and Lonnie threw herself against her cousin. Sophie shifted for a moment before regaining her bearing.
“Yes, I’m back. See, I told you it was nothing.” Sophie smiled at the girl.
“Is the cast heavy?” Lonnie asked.
“A little, but I’m getting used to it.”
“Welcome back, Sophie.” Dante had come out of the kitchen behind Lonnie, and he was followed by Mae.
They all crowded around Sophie as if it were a family reunion and they had not seen each other in years. Eliot knew from earlier conversations she’d spent only one day away from them.
Mentally, he compared this small group of five to the hundreds of employees of Fulton Foods. The differences were like night and day, and yet this small group was now giving Fulton a run for its money.
It was amazing, really, and Eliot knew without a doubt the woman on the crutches was the reason why. She was the reason for all that new equipment in the back. She was the one who wanted to go after their contracts. She was the one with the ambition; she was the one who’d rejected their generous offer, not Mae. And therefore, as much as he might not want to, he knew she would have to be the one he brought down. And since he’d already decided he could not steal Mae’s recipes, he had no idea exactly how to go about his mission. Especially considering Sophie, unlike her trusting grandmother, seemed to have suspicions about him. He only hoped his earlier phone calls worked.
“I was meeting our new baker.” She gestured to Eliot.
“El here has been working his little heart out this morning.” Mae came to his side, making herself his advocate. “Even though he was hired to bake, he has been a real sweetheart about helping me with the inventory all afternoon.”
He nodded, his mind on the way Wayne stood protectively close to Sophie. It was becoming apparent that the two were close, and irrationally, Eliot found he didn’t care for their relationship.
“That’s
