Alberto took the card and read the amount. His one good eye opened wide. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. But I do have to ask two things in return. Things that you can do for me today.”
“What is that?”
“One, make no attempt to contact Mayfield Bakery. They are a competitor of ours, and we would prefer you not communicate with them.”
Alberto nodded his agreement.
“Second, I would like to do a brief interview with you, learn a little about you and your background. Your résumé speaks for itself.” He smiled. “But I would like to get to know a little about the man, not the chef. Is that okay?”
Alberto nodded once more, and Eliot pulled up a chair. He pulled the list of questions he’d prepared from his jacket pocket. They were very specific questions, things he needed to know in order to continue impersonating the man.
Chapter 9
Eliot was starting to realize he had a shadow. Wherever he turned, Lonnie would be there watching him intently with her large doe eyes. He’d smile. She’d smile back. And he would walk away, only to be ambushed again a few minutes later.
He was forming loaves of cinnamon-flavored bread that afternoon, when she finally worked up the nerve to speak to him. Even after the mixer was done with the dough, Eliot always took the time to knead it with his hands the way his mother taught him. He’d learned working in the factory that the mixer wasn’t always as thorough as it should be. And there was nothing less tasty than dough with an uneven amount of yeast and cinnamon.
“How long you been a baker?” she asked, standing on the other side of the table, nibbling on an elephant-ear pastry.
“All my life.” Eliot felt that was at least partially true.
“You’re very good at it.” She smiled in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t the usual casual smile she gave him. This one had purpose.
“Thank you.” He glanced around the empty kitchen, wonder
ing where Dante was. The boy always seemed to be no more than two steps behind her. He decided to ask. “So, where’s Dante?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You got a girlfriend?”
The uncomfortably feeling grew even stronger. He glanced around again, and saw Sophie had rolled out of the office. Heading toward the front of the store, but hearing Lonnie’s question she’d paused.
Eliot glanced in her direction and they briefly made eye contact as he smiled and said, “Not at the moment.”
Sophie looked away and quickly rolled her chair to the front of the store. Eliot was so busy watching Sophie, it took him a moment to realize Lonnie’s expression had changed, as well. Suddenly, her eyes seemed clearer, more focused—on him.
“Why not?” she asked, tossing the last bit of elephant ear in her mouth and dusting the crumbs from her fingers.
Eliot shrugged, wondering how to get her off this subject. “What about you?”
She smiled shyly. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” She looked up at him, and Eliot was suddenly extremelyuncomfortable. Mentally challenged or not, this was a young woman fully aware of her sexuality and the art of seduction. He wondered if Sophie, who was so protective of the girl, was aware of just how much her little cousin really knew.
As if he’d been summoned, Dante appeared in the doorway. “Lonnie, I’m going down to make a delivery at Montgomery High. Wanna come?”
“No thanks,” she answered, never taking her eyes off Eliot.
Dante threw a quick glare at Eliot, but Eliot pretended not to see it while continuing to knead the bread. He wanted Lonnie gone from him as much as Dante did. The last thing he needed was Sophie’s little cousin coming on to him.
“Why not?” Dante was asking, as he walked closer. “You always come with me, and we always go to the park afterwards.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Not today. Maybe next time.”
As Sophie came back into the kitchen, Dante said, “Sophie, I need Lonnie’s help with the Montgomery delivery—is that okay?”
Lonnie’s attention snapped to Dante, and she practically snarled, “I said no!”
Sophie smiled, seemingly completely oblivious to the under-current of emotions. “Why not, Lonnie? It’s a beautiful day out. I kinda wish I was doing the deliveries,” she said.
Lonnie’s eyes darted back and forth. She was obviously torn. She couldn’t exactly explain that she wanted to stay and continue to flirt with the new baker, and she didn’t have any legitimate reason for not going. Eliot watched the slow smile come across Dante’s face, realizing he’d won.
She huffed. “Fine.” She turned and, moving quickly around Dante, headed out of the kitchen. Dante followed at a slower pace.
Sophie frowned at the pair. “Wonder what’s got into her?” She looked at El, expecting an answer.
And he shrugged, trying to look clueless. Sophie turned and rolled her chair back into the office.
As he loaded the metal baking sheet with the long loaves of bread, Eliot replayed the entire incident in his head, and finally concluded that things were not what they appeared with Lonnie Mayfield. Mentally challenged, my ass,he thought, sliding the tray into the oven.
An hour later, he and Wayne were once again kneeling before the older oven, trying to get it going. Eliot was showing the other man how to push the coils back into place for a temporary fix. This was the fifth time it had stopped working in the past two weeks.
“So, where did you work before you came here?” Wayne asked, trying to sound casually interested. Eliot wasn’t fooled.
He’d expected this interrogation eventually, he was only unsure as to why it took so long. He gave Wayne the brief history he’d learned from Alberto like the well-rehearsed lie it was, ending with his employment at Catalan’s in Houston.
Wayne seemed to accept the story, but Eliot knew it was not the last time his past would come up. This man would love nothing better than to find a reason to get rid of him.
“Catalan’s?” Wayne asked, recognizing the name of the five-star restaurant. “How the hell you end up here?”
“Wayne!” Sophie snapped, rolling up to the pair.
Kneeling by the oven, Eliot found himself right at eye level with her as she came to a stop beside him. For a moment their eyes met, and he wished they were alone. But Wayne was right on the other side of him, as always, watching him closely. And Mae was just across the room, vacuuming up a busted bag of flour.
There were always too many people around as far as Eliot was concerned. Far too many people for him to attempt to explore whatever this was, this something that seemed to be happening between them. He’d known she was attracted to him from the moment he met her, but she’d tucked away that initial desire. He’d not seen that look in her eyes again in the past few weeks, until lately.
She seemed to have come to a decision. She’d been allowing him to look closer, to look into her again, and he found that was all he wanted to do. Like now or anytime she was near. She was all he could think about. The air in the room would thicken with unspoken thoughts.
“How he came to be here is none of your business—or mine, for that matter. Did you get the oven fixed?”
“Yes, temporarily, but you need to call a professional, Sophie. This temporary fix can only last so long,” Wayne said.
“I know.” She bit her lip. “But we just can’t afford it right now.”
“I thought business was good,” Eliot said, closing the oven door. “I mean with all the new contracts.”
“It’s getting better, but we have a long way to go before it can be categorized as good.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh, but don’t worry, we are stable,” she quickly added, mistaking his grunt for concern.
Over the past weeks Eliot was beginning to understand why his generous buyout offer had been rejected. For Sophie and Mae it wasn’t about the money. They needed the money to grow the business, but it was the legacy of the business that mattered most to them. How was he supposed to talk them into selling when all he could offer was money? That approach would never work.
Wayne had stood and turned on the oven. Pressing his hand
against the glass window, he nodded, satisfied. “That will hold it for a while.”
Mae finished her vacuuming and began rewrapping the cord. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you these past weeks, El,” she called over her shoulder.
“Here, Mama Mae, let me get that for you.” Wayne crossed the room and lifted the heavy vacuum to carry it out to the shed across the alley, where they kept overflow supplies, broken kitchen equipment and various other things.
“Wayne, when you’re done with that can you run me down to the hospital for my checkup?” Sophie called.
“I can take you,” Eliot offered.
Wayne almost dropped the vacuum on his foot. “I’ll take her,” he said quickly.
Sophie was looking up at Eliot. “No, Wayne, it’s fine. El can take me.” She smiled. “Thanks for the offer.”
He smiled back. “No problem.” Finally, they’d have a chance to be alone.
A few minutes later, El lifted Sophie out of her wheelchair, enjoying every second of holding her small body against his. He wrapped one arm around her back, the other under her knees, and took his time sitting her down in the bucket seat of his champagne-colored sports car. He was careful not to bump her cast.
She glanced up at him with those sparkling brown eyes that revealed much of what she was thinking. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” He grinned playfully.
“Nice car,” she said, as he climbed in beside her.
“Thanks. Now, where are we going?”
“I really appreciate this.” She dug around in her purse and came up with her doctor’s business card.
Glancing at the address, he started the car and began to back up. “I meant it when I said no problem. Besides, like you told Lonnie, it really is too nice a day to be inside.”
She rested her arm on the console between them, glancing over the controls. “I’m sorry about Wayne’s rude question.” She
looked at him and quickly looked away. “I guess I should warn you that I know about your circumstances.”
He frowned. “My circumstances?”
“You know…how you came to be no longer employed at Catalan’s.”
“Oh, right.” He nodded, remembering that she thought he was someone else. He couldn’t afford to forget that.
“But I meant what I said. It’s not Wayne’s business or mine.”
“Right, well, we all make mistakes.”
She snorted quietly. “A mistake.”
As he pulled out of the parking lot he opened the sunroof and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” She looked at him with wide, innocent brown eyes. “I just don’t know if I would call sleeping with a powerful man’s wifea mistake.”
“Mistake, indiscretion, whatever word works for you.” He didn’t like the judgmental tone he was hearing in her voice. Even though he was not the one who’d actually done the deed, she was sounding a little too prudish for his taste.
“Do you do that often?”
“What?”
“Sleep with other men’s wives.”
Eliot smiled to himself. Maybe that wasn’t judgment he was hearing but jealousy. “Depends on the woman.” He looked directly at her. “I find some women are simply irresistible.”
“Was she worth it?”
Eliot considered his life, his ambitions and dreams for the future. Would he be willing to sacrifice all he’d built in life for one night with another man’s wife? “No.” He shifted gears and changed lanes as he merged onto the freeway. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“Like what’s between you and Wayne?”
“Friendship, a great working relationship and trust.”
“Nothing more?”
“That’s none of your business,” she answered coyly.
“Oh, I get it. You get all up inmy business, all the while
talking about how it’s noneof your business. But when I ask a question, you throw that back in my face.” He laughed, and she laughed with him, realizing he was right. “I answered your questions. It’s only fair you answer mine.”
She sighed. “No, there’s nothing more between us.”
“You sound disappointed.”
She shrugged. “He’s a good man, just not the one for me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’ll know when I meet Mr. Right.” She nodded.
Eliot Wrightalmost laughed out loud. “Sure you will.”
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“What are we talking about here? Love at first sight?”
“Something like that.”
“Then no, I don’t believe you. You can’t love someone you know nothing about.”
“Maybe not love at first sight, but there’s a feeling you get when you meet someone you know could be special in your life. Know what I mean?”
“Yep. It’s called lust, and it keeps a lot of divorce attorneys in business.”
“No, not lust, and not love. It’s something in between. I can’t put a name to it.”
He chuckled. “When you do, please let me know what this mysterious something in between is.”
She tilted her head, watching him warily. “Are you always this cynical?”
He almost answered yes but bit his tongue. He hadn’t always been, but twenty years with Carl Fulton had removed any traces of the optimistic boy he’d once been. “Sorry, it’s just been a rough few months.”
“I’m sure,” she said, sympathetically. “Someone with your obvious talent being forced to work for a small bakery in a backwater town. I’m a little surprised you took the offer.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” he answered, thinking of his uncle and knowing she would believe he meant something different.
“So why don’t you have a girlfriend or a wife of your own?”
He put on his signal and got over preparing to exit the freeway. “Back to my love life again?”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t really sound it.