Page 2 of Sugar, Sprinkles, and Secrets
“And I bet Mila feels bad for trying to take your toy, right, sweetheart?” I ask the little girl in my arms, who stopped crying at the sight of her brother being upset. “So, maybe we can work this out without involving the man in the big red suit?”
“I’m sorry, Dante,” Mila whimpers to her big brother.
“I didn’t mean to hit your face, Mila. Promise. I’m sorry too.” Dante reaches out and rubs his sister’s back. I look up and meet Max’s gaze. Dammit. Why does he have to be so good with them? This would all be so much easier if he was a jerk or maybe hated kids or puppies or something awful.
“Alright, I think the crisis has been averted. Why don’t you two see if Betty has that batch of muffins out yet and each take one back to the playroom if she does?” That makes them both scramble down, injuries and hurt feelings quickly forgotten.
“Sorry if I overstepped, you just had your hands full—quite literally,” Max says with his boyish grin, and he has the audacity to have adorable dimples too. The nerve of this man.
“I appreciated the assist, thank you. Daycare is closed today so they have to hang out in the playroom off my office.” He doesn’t need to know how alone I am, but I find myself spilling my guts—well, at least what I’m allowed to share. “Your breakfast is on the house this morning.” I put my hand up to stop his protest. “I insist.”
“Well, we both know I’ll be back tomorrow.” And I will live for that moment of escape when he does.
“I’m glad to hear it. Have a great day, Max.” I try to keep my smile in the friend zone, just in case he can somehow tell the difference between that smile and the I-could-love-you smile … although I think when it comes to Max Riley, they are one in the same.
It’s almost tragic we can’t be together, but I know how he feels about liars, and I won’t do that to him—Ican’t do that to him. I care too deeply to cause even more pain than what he has gone through this year. The whole situation is probably a moot point anyway because if my life has taught me anything, it’s that everyone I love leaves and the only person I can really count on is myself.
But if I was really honest, I might allow myself to admit that I may already love the man. Apparently, I’m not only lying to him but also to myself. I wish things could be different—but I can’t tell him any of that, not when I can’t even tell him my real name.
Chapter two
I finish the coffee from Cara’s as my nine a.m. conference call wraps up. I make it a point to stop by Sprinkles every morning before work, and it has nothing to do with the baked goods or coffee and has absolutely everything to do with her.
Cara Diaz blew into town almost eighteen months ago to open her bakery in downtown Forrest Falls.
With gorgeous olive skin, striking dark features, large brown eyes you could get lost in, and an hourglass silhouette that would bring any man to his knees, she is breathtaking. She has this contagious laugh and it’s like she is joy incarnate. Cara is unlike any woman I’ve ever met before, and while some people interpret her New England demeanor as brash or rude, I think it’s refreshing and honest. Her confidence is incredibly sexy, as is her delicious backside that I am a very big fan of. She once complained about how hard it is to find jeans that fit right as a size fourteen, there are even stores that won’t carry sizes that fit her. I told her that should be a crime because with an ass like hers, she’s a walking masterpiece and jeans should be tailor-made to her. Cara laughed at my comment, but I meant it.
I met Cara when she came into Java Jive to meet with the owners about them being the exclusive coffee roaster for her new bakery, Sprinkles. I overheard her mention she was new to town and couldn’t help but introduce myself after her meeting wrapped up. I played my cards slowly and waited a few weeks before asking her out. We were on track to something serious and real, and I loved spending time with her. She has custody ofher niece and nephew, but they were just like fun little pint-sized bonuses to spending time with Cara. I thought we were building something good and honestly long term, but after the drama that went down earlier this year, she was quick to let me know we were better off as friends.
Without discussion or debate, it was just … over.
Or it may have been for her, but it’s never stopped on my side, if anything, I care more about her today than when we were officially dating.
I wasn’t surprised when some people decided to judge me for the sins of my mother, but I was flabbergasted when it felt like Cara was one of them. She insists it had nothing to do with my mother’s arrest, but the timing leaves little doubt for what else could make her pull back so quickly from me. The FBI surrounded my childhood home and arrested my mother for a slew of charges—after she shot the nicest girl in town—and then the woman I was seeing ended things with me soon after. To be fair, I definitely withdrew from Cara initially when everything hit the fan, but I was so shocked and ashamed by the reality of what had happened. I didn’t think anyone could understand that level of betrayal and I didn’t want it to reflect poorly on Cara for spending time with me. By the time I got my head out of my ass, things clearly had changed. At a time when I could have used the support of a girlfriend, she firmly placed me in the friend category without any discussion. Cara’s a great friend, and she has been there as best as she can be over the last ten months, but that is not the category I want to be in, and I want to get us back on track.
If I only had any idea how the hell to do that.
I’m a problem solver by nature; it’s one of the reasons my best friend hired me when he started his streaming company with his buddy from college. I was the first employee hired at Lux, and it’s been a very lucrative journey since. I may not have the bank account of Jack Callahan or Wells Sinclair, but I’ve made more money than I ever imagined possible when I took a chance on their streaming start-up company almost twenty years ago.Between stock options, my generous annual salary and bonuses, I’m a millionaire multiple times over, but I also just really enjoy my job. For the last ten years, I’ve managed the music division of Lux. Jack’s been my best friend since we were in preschool, and while I didn’t know Wells before joining the company, when you help build something as impressive as Lux, it brings you close quickly.
“My man,” Wells chirps as he flops into a seat in my office. “Are you going to ever smile again or is this depressed puppy look your new vibe?” He pulls a protein bar out of his pocket and takes a bite, raising his eyebrows as though I’m going to actually answer his question. “Seriously, it’s a real downer. Can we do something about that? Can I buy you something to cheer you up? Say the word.”
“What can I do for you, Wells? Don’t you have things you could do that don’t involve you harassing me?” I deadpan as I reply to an email from my assistant.
“Boo. Where’s the fun in that? Listen, I know what will help.” He hits his fist on my desk like a brilliant idea just came to him, but I know Wells, and he came in here with an agenda. “Let’s head to Vail this weekend and hit the slopes. I’m thankful for a lot of things in my life, but I’d be happy to find some ski bunnies to add to that very long list of gratitude. What do you say? Maybe it will get you out of this funk.”
Wells is spinning this as though it’s a favor to me, but we both know the favor is entirely for Wells. He isn’t a selfish person in general, quite the opposite actually, but he isn’t the best at saying what he actually needs, so it always comes wrapped up in a more complicated package than just shooting it straight. If Wells can stay busy and in motion, he doesn’t have to sit still and process the emotions of everything that’s happened, including the reality of how truly terrible his own mother is. Huh, maybe we should start a club. I tilt my head and take him in. “Please tell me Tinsley is not going to see your mother for Thanksgiving?”
“Hell no. I doubt that was ever the plan even before everything happened. However, she suddenly added another concert inSydney, which of course sold out immediately. I suspect my little sister was planning on that all along; that little mastermind just waited until last minute to avoid even more drama with mommy dearest.” He’s right—Tinsley always intended on adding a last-minute show for Sydney ever since she planned the initial tour last year, but Wells doesn’t need me to confirm that information.
Tinsley Sinclair may be an international country music star these days, but she will always be Wells’s little sister first and foremost. She’s the only member of his family worth his time, and it’s kind of amazing that Wells and Tinsley turned out to be such good people when the rest of the lot are liars, cheats, and crooks. “Why don’t you make up a reason why you need to go to her concert in Sydney? It’s not like you really need an excuse to avoid your mother right now, but Tinsley’s the only person in your family you actually want to spend Thanksgiving with anyway.”
Wells barks a quick laugh. “Shit. You’re brilliant. I’m so glad Jack didn’t listen to me when I said to fire you.” Wells winks at me in jest. It’s been a running joke since the first time we had a disagreement in their dorm room and Wells told Jack to fire me, and Jack told Wells to shut the hell up. Wells had just shrugged and said whatever, and that was that. “Thanks man, I needed your wisdom. Do you want to come to Sydney then? Get all thankful down under?” Wells’s joking manner quickly shifts into empathy. The guy may joke around and love to party, but he is loyal to the bone with a heart of gold. He pauses and lowers his voice. “No one would blame you for getting out of town for a bit, you know.”
“Nah, I better stick around. It’s going to be the first major holiday since … well, everything. My dad and brothers need me, and Uncle Frank will probably be around too.”
“Of course, man. Of course. You guys let me know if you need anything, alright? I’m going to have my assistant create some kind of emergency to get me out of the country for the next week until Thanksgiving, but you know I’m just a phone call away.”
“The London branch hasn’t had any facetime with company leadership in at least three months; you could pop over there.”
