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ChapterSixteen
STRICTLY BUSINESS
Bentley
I’d thoughtit was a terrible idea to show up at Kenzie’s apartment after getting her address from Joyce. Even though I knew it wasn’t good, I still went there. Her place was exactly what I pictured for her.
Small, but packed full of crazy.
I would have fucked her on every surface of that studio if my sister hadn’t texted. Now, instead of making Kenzie scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain, I’m headed toward Celia’s bakery.
I don’t know what’s broken, but she sent a 911 text and those don’t get ignored. Not for my baby sister.
Her bakery is downtown and called “Sweet Delights”. She got her Associates degree in business and used her trust fund from our grandparents to open this spot two years ago. Our parents thought it was a joke, but now that she’s making over a million a year, they’re trying to get her to franchise.
Thankfully, Celia knows better than to let them get a hold of her business. Sure, one day she might expand, but for now, she’s young and enjoying what she’s doing. I’m damned proud of her. Well, as long as I don’t have to hear about her dick cookies that she sells online.
When I pull up, I do a once-over of the building. The white paint is pristine, and the windows are painted with colorful cupcakes and cookies. The light-pink door draws the eye, but not annoyingly so.
I get out of my SUV and head inside. The checkered floors are my least favorite, but small white tables cover most of them. The glass shields on the counter sparkle under the dim lights, and I call out for my sister.
“Back here,” she yells in return.
Once I’m behind the counter, I smell something burning and quicken my pace, hoping she’d have been smart enough to call the fire department if something was on fire.
There is still smoke in the air, and she’s waving a towel around frantically with tears on her cheeks. Her sad blue eyes land on me, and her shoulders drop. “I don’t know what happened.”
I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her, uncaring that flour is getting all over me. “It’s okay, sis. Tell me what’s broken and I’ll fix it.”
She points to the oven. “I had cookies in there for five minutes. The oven wasn’t getting hot enough, so I turned it up. A minute later, there’s smoke filling the room and my cookies are crispy instead of moist.”
I’m not a mechanic, but I’ve always had a knack for following a problem to its source. I might be able to fix her problems tonight if it’s what I think it is, but worst case, I’ll at least save her some money when she hires a proper repair person if I can narrow some things down.
My thumbs wipe away her tears. “Why are you baking this late anyway?”
She blushes, and I hold up my hands. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Celia laughs, and I at least feel better that she’s cheering up, even if it’s at my own expense.
As I start to move the commercial range away from the wall so I can get a look at the wiring, Celia takes a seat on a stool and twiddles her thumbs. “What were you doing? You got here quicker than I expected.”
“I was out,” I answer, then grunt when the oven gets stuck on a divot in the flooring.
Celia hums. “Out where?”
“Busy here, sis.” I shove hard and finally have enough room to get around to the backside.
“Right, but I’ve seen you multitask before. Your failure to answer tells me it’s somewhere I should know about. Did you meet someone?” she asks, talking quickly.
I roll my eyes. “Why does everything always have to do with a woman when I don’t want to talk about it?”
She hops off the stool and leans against the oven. “Because I know you, Bentley. The only thing you’re private with is your love life, or lack thereof. Who is she?”
I look up to find her hovering over me with a grin on her face. “It’s nobody. I was working on fundraiser stuff. Speaking of, you can repay me for tonight by volunteering the day of and working one of the booths. It’s carnival-themed.”
She claps her hands. “I could do face painting for the kids. My decorating skills come in handy for that.”
“That would actually be really great. I’ll tell Joyce about it tomorrow,” I say after I’ve unplugged the oven’s power source.
