Episode 9: Bold Move
Sugar’s eyebrows knitted together as she flipped the card over. Normally, there wasn’t anything on the back, but there was a phone number in this case. Her heart raced at the discovery.
She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and dialed the seven digits. Her pulse pounded as she brought the phone to her ear, listening to it ring. She sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, jittery with anticipation. She counted the rings, and just before the last one, she changed her mind and hung up. Tossing the phone from her hand like a hot potato, she watched it slide halfway across her desk.
She had a strong gut feeling that a man had sent the flowers, and she had sworn off all men.
Sugar had told herself this.
She had told her meddling sisters this.
She had told the universe this.
She didn’t need to know who C was, nor did she want to deal with him, but she kept the flowers because they were too gorgeous to throw away.
“He has good taste, though,” she muttered, tilting her head as she admired the arrangement from where she sat.
Just then, the phone rang and vibrated with an incoming call. Fear spiked inside her for the briefest moment before she realized it was Mallory. She picked up the phone and answered.
“What is it this time, Lory?”
“I’m not... going to be... able to... come in tonight,” Mallory informed her between wet kisses.
Annoyance grated at her, but curiosity got the better of her, knowing her mind would be filled with disturbing visions if her little brother answered truthfully.
“Pray tell why. Are you sick?”
“Well, I am seeing... a nurse as... we speak,” Mallory said between another series of noisy kisses that made her want to gag. This time, she heard a giggle in the background.
“Will you be able to get a doctor’s note?”
“Mm hm, I’m working on it,” Mallory hummed, followed by a low moan from a woman.
“Bye, Lory,” Sugar huffed irritably, ending the call. Another call came in before she could even move the phone from her ear. She answered immediately.
“I don’t want to hear any of your silly excuses. I have a business to run, so every time you chase after these chicks, I’m the one who gets left in the dust. Excuse me for being tired of you choosing play over work. I don’t have that luxury. I can’t afford that luxury,” Sugar spouted.
Silence.
“Play isn’t as expensive a luxury as you think.”
Sugar’s eyes widened at the smooth, deep southern voice that was very much not her baby brother’s. But it scratched an itch in her brain with its familiarity. After that, it didn’t take long to figure out who it was.
The ‘who’ she was on the phone with was also the same ‘who’ that sent the flowers and the same ‘who’ she cleaned the blood off his face in her empty restaurant at nearly three o’clock in the morning.
“So, you remember me then?” His tone was pleased—charmed, even.
“How could I forget? Our introduction was very,” she cleared her throat, “unique.”
“I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances.”
Sugar scoffed. “Actually, the circumstances we met under were perfect because they allowed me to see what kind of person you truly are.”
“And what kind of person do you think I am?”
“Trouble,” she answered, her grip tightening on the phone. “You got pushed out of a car, bloodied and battered. You didn’t want medical attention because you didn’t want the police involved. I only patched you up to be kind, but don’t mistake my kindness as an invitation. I don’t want a man. I don’t need a man, and if I did, it wouldn’t be you. I’ve had enough trouble in my life to know that you’re trouble, too. So, thanks for the flowers, but no thanks to everything else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. C, I have more important matters to attend to.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from them,” he replied so calmly that it surprised her.
She had just insulted him, yet he responded respectfully, even-tempered. Lance would have exploded. Hell, plenty of men would have become angry and defensive after such sharp-tongued accusations.
But he didn’t.
She detected no hint of anger or disappointment in his voice.
It was almost as if he had expected her rejection and had accepted that fate before even sending the flowers.
If that were the case, then why would he even bother?
“Um, thank you for,” Sugar paused, searching for a word, “understanding,” she finished, biting her bottom lip, uneasy.
Uncomfortable with prolonging the conversation any longer, she quickly ended the call. Pulling the phone away from her ear, she stared at it for a long moment, biting her lower lip.
That wasn’t what she expected.
That wasn’t what she expected at all.
