“You’re not funny,” I say, though I’m already softening by the smile Beau’s giving me.
“I’m a fucking riot and you know it.”
I shake my head as I close the glass case. “Give me a second to deliver these.”
“Customer always comes first,” he says, turning to watch as I head back to Phyllis and Kitty.
“We’d sure like to,” Phyllis says as she stands up, not making it hidden that she’s checking my brother out. Which… gross. I mean, I know what the world says about him. That’s he’s a cocky, six-foot-four, well built, bearded, professional golfer who is kind of an asshole but knows when to turn on the charm, making him a media favorite. To me he’s the eight-year old boy who put frogs in my shoes knowing damn well the little fuckers freak me out.
He’s also my knight in shining armor and the reason I’m standing in Sugar and Sweets.
But still… gross.
“Oh Phyllis, you make me blush every time I come in here,” Beau says as he walks over to grab her coat off the rack by the door, stepping back next to her to help her put it on. “Here, let me help you into this.”
“You’re the only man I’m okay with getting me into clothes and not out of them,” Phyllis says, which makes me immediately turn beet red, while also want to go hide in the kitchen. “You’re a true gentleman Beau.”
“Only sometimes, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink to my seventy-eight-year-old customer.
“Goodness gracious” I grumble. “Don’t let him sweet talk you Phyllis. He’s nothing but trouble.”
“Don’t tell her that, it’ll only make her want him more,” Kitty says as she puts on her coat and scarf. “Been friends with this woman for fifty years and to this day I have to remind her that we stay away from red flags, not run toward them like a goddamn bull.”
“You know about red flags?”
“Oh sweetie. Red flags have been around since men…” she trails off, though I also think that she didn’t need to finish that sentence. She’s pretty much right. “Let’s get you out of here before you get another restraining order against you. That other one expired.”
“You shush!” Phyllis says, slapping her friend as Beau and I can’t stop laughing. “It wasn’t a restraining order. Howard asked the night orderly that I not be allowed to sit by him at bingo.”
“Bye ladies!” I say with a wave as they exit the bakery. “Stay warm and out of jail please.”
“No promises!” Phyllis calls out before she and Kitty exit the bakery. There have been a lot of great things that have happened since the bakery opened, and meeting those two has to be in the top three. When they’re not harassing my brother or the other male clientele.
“Those two are a fucking hoot.” Beau says as he grabs their cups of coffee off the table. “I think Phyllis pinched my ass.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I say. “Wait. Why are you cleaning up? You don’t have to do that.”
“Now, what kind of owner would I be if I didn’t pull my weight around here?”
I tilt my head as I block his path to come behind the counter. “The kind who comes in a few times a month to remind me that he’s the owner.”
“Gabi… you know that’s not why I come in here.”
“I know,” I say, gesturing for him to sit at the counter. “It’s just… my head is all over the place these days. And when you come strutting in, it’s a reminder that it’s another day that has passed that this place is yours and not mine.”
“Soon,” he says.
“I really hate that word…”
I feel like the word “soon” is a leading contender for my autobiography. When I was married, it was the word Justin used to put off something I wanted, but he had a convenient excuse for. Those include, but were not limited to, opening a bakery and starting a family.
During my divorce my lawyer would say “it should be over soon.” I don’t know what his definition of soon is, but two years to me isn’t soon.
And now, soon I’ll own Sugar and Sweets. I clearly trust my brother more than my ex, and even my divorce attorney, but I still fucking hate that word.
Except in this case, Beau is right. And this was the plan all along. I’m getting impatient and I know it. In my defense, this has been years in the making for me.
When Justin was heading to medical school, it obviously wasn’t practical for me to work at, or try to start my own bakery.So I agreed to work a corporate accounting job until he finished and became established. Then it could be my turn.
