“I’m good for now. I just have to find my phone and text Grams. J.T. is working today, so he can help her out.” The guy who’d hit me was lying motionless under Royal, his chest jerking as he sucked in breath. “Why would he want to dump cockroaches into your air vent? Is he trying to get you shut down?”
“That’s a good question,” Royal said conversationally. “I’m sure we’re going to have all sorts of questions for this guy. I’d like to know if this is the first time he’s tried something like this. And if it was his idea or if he’s working for someone else. But West is going to have plenty of time to ask while he’s rotting in jail.”
“Fuck you,” came from the face shoved in the grass.
“Creative. I expected better from someone who was about to dump roaches into the HVAC.”
Tennessee Sawyer came around the corner of the building, almost a carbon copy of his brother, except Royal’s hair was more of an auburn brown and Tenn’s was pure espresso. Tenn had the same build as Royal, the same perfect Sawyer bone structure, but he’d never done it for me the way Royal did.
Then again, Hutchins women were always a sucker for a charming smile. It was our downfall, generations deep. Royal’s was so full of charm it was lethal. Tenn had a nice smile too, but he was straightforward. Serious. Royal had the kind of grin that had a girl out of her panties before she could think twice.
“What the hell is going on?” Tenn demanded, his brow furrowed with concern. “Daisy, are you okay? Hope said you’d bring some samples by, but it’s barely dawn.”
I gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m up early to start the baking. I knew the kitchens would be open and I wanted to have the basket delivered before you both got to the office—”
All of a sudden, I remembered the basket of cookies and brownies I’d baked early that morning and had painstakingly wrapped in the ribboned packaging I’d decided on for The Inn, now scattered all over the side lawn along with my phone.
Before I called Grams to seriously underplay the reason for my delay, I had to find my phone.
I stood and looked around, catching sight of my basket by the corner of the building, upside down on the grass, the light catching the cellophane-wrapped treats that had spilled everywhere. Dammit.
I tried not to think about my tired fingers tying all those ribbons into bows only hours before. I was supposed to make a good impression. To wow them with my delicious treats presented so temptingly in their pretty basket with ribbons that matched The Inn's logo.
Instead, everything was scattered all over the grass. The brownies had probably held up, but the cookies would be a crumpled mess.
“One second,” I said to Royal and Tenn. “I dropped everything when he ran into me. I have to find my phone.”
I went to my knees in the wet grass, turning the basket upright and filling it with as many packages of cookies and brownies as I could find. Royal and Tenn spoke quietly amongst themselves. When I glanced up, I found Royal's eyes fixed on me despite his squirming captive.
I looked away, focusing on my task, surrounded by the disaster of my latest bright idea, the pain in my swelling cheek a tight throb. I wished I could disappear. I wished I’d never come here. If I were playing that game, I wished I’d done a lot of things differently.
I finally found my phone. I chickened out and sent Grams a quick text instead of calling.
Still at The Inn. Can you open without me?
She answered almost immediately.
On it, baby girl. See you when we see you.
Grams thought I was working too hard. If only she knew. Grams still lived in the house where I'd grown up. A few blocks from Main Street, it was walking distance to the bakery. I, on the other hand, lived in a small apartment above the bakery which made it easy to hide the long hours I'd been putting in.
Then again, I might be fooling myself. It was never easy to put one over on Eleanor Hutchins. She might be my grandmother, but she was still sharp as a tack. The second she saw my cheek, there’d be hell to pay. But that was a problem for later.
First, I worked on reassembling the cookies and brownies in the basket. With so many broken cookies it would never look as nice as it had when I’d packed it, but it would do. I'd take the broken cookies back to the bakery and put them to use in something else.
Rising slowly, my muscles aching in protest and my cheek throbbing, I walked back to where Royal and Tenn waited with our captive.