Sugar & Spice (Spicetopia Book 1) Read online

  Marcus: Okay, I’ll wait. :)

  I headed into the kitchen where I could hear my mom already rumbling around, hopefully making coffee. Reed was probably still asleep. It had been way too quiet around our apartment this week with River in the hospital. I couldn’t wait to have my little man back home. It wouldn’t be much longer now. Dr. Grimes said he was pleased with River’s bloodwork since they started the antibiotics.

  Maybe things in my life were finally starting to look up? I was seeing an amazing guy. My son seemed to be thriving, for the most part. And the Sweets might actually be forced to get their fucking act together where their employees were concerned.

  “Hey! How was last night?” my mom cooed from the corner of the kitchen where she was pouring coffee into a mug. I noticed she had another mug right next to hers, presumably for me. Best. Mom. Ever.

  I couldn’t even answer her question. A long, wistful sigh came out in lieu of a response.

  “That good, huh?” She grinned. “I want to hear all about it!”

  I let out a raspy chuckle. “Uh, no, I don’t think you want those kinds of details.” I took the mug she was offering with a grateful smile then fixed it up with cream and sugar.

  She smiled and shook her head at me. “When are you seeing him again?”

  “He wants to see me today,” I answered between sips. “But I’m too busy, really.”

  “Why not go out tonight? After the boys are asleep? I don’t mind.” She winked at me. What is the relationship version of a drug pusher? That’s what she is.

  I shook my head as I took yet another sip of coffee, my hands cradling the mug as if it were the Holy Grail. The caffeine was filtering into my bloodstream; I could feel it. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “No, I’m telling you. Again.” She set down her mug and gave me her “business” look. She’d be breaking out the Italian next if I didn’t agree.

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I will meet him for like an hour later tonight.”

  “That’s my girl.” Satisfied, she put her empty mug in the sink and went off to gather up laundry.

  I grabbed my phone and asked Marcus if we could meet at eight for drinks. It only took him a few seconds to text back a confirmation and address.

  I managed to make it on time for once. It was amazing how motivating seeing Marcus was in helping me cross off all the items on my to-do list. Even the session with the new client didn’t completely zap me of energy like it normally would. I parked and found Marcus waiting for me right outside the cute little restaurant and bar on a canal in one of the ritzy shopping areas near downtown.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek with a smile that made me go weak in the knees. I almost regretted agreeing to meet him in person instead of having a repeat performance of our romp the night before.

  “Thank you.” I took his hand as he led me inside. He asked for a booth, which I doubted they’d be able to deliver on during a busy Saturday night, but the hostess took one look at Marcus and grinned before immediately ushering us to a booth far in the back of the restaurant, right by the water.

  “Wow, that was impressive!” I noted as we sat down and he cracked open the menu the server had left.

  He winked. “I think my accent gets me special treatment sometimes.”

  I didn’t know if it was his accent or his sexy nerd looks, but either way, it was fun to be out on the town with someone like Marcus. He had this swagger about him, like he owned the world. It was hard to believe he was a recent college grad with a temp gig at Sweetopia. I could hardly imagine what kind of confidence he’d have when he finally secured his dream job. I imagined The Bard’s Bakery was not it.

  “What a beautiful night!” I exclaimed, looking out across the canal. The railing was looped with tiny twinkling fairy lights and all the other lights along the water seemed to be winking back. There was live music across the way from a different restaurant’s deck, and it filtered gently through the warm night breeze. It was just loud enough that it could be enjoyed, but not too loud to inhibit conversation.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me again,” Marcus noted, lifting his eyes above the menu to stare at me. “I know you’re busy with mom stuff.”

  I mustered a soft giggle. “Yeah, my two boys keep me busy, that’s for sure.” I knew this was the perfect time to interject the part about River’s condition, but it was such a downer. I didn’t want to put any kind of damper on this beautiful evening. There would be plenty of time to tell Marcus when I got to know him better.

  Listen to me—talking as if we were an item, a couple.

  I was adamantly opposed to it when I first met him, but that was back when I thought he was like most other twenty-something men I had known: self-absorbed and immature. He seemed to be wise beyond his years, and he truly seemed to care about me.

  “What are they into? Your boys? Reed and River, right?” he asked. “Reed is the older one?”

  “Wow, good memory!” I was impressed. We’d briefly discussed them the night before, but the main focus of our previous date was our heart-stopping, passionate tango between the sheets. I took a sip of the water the server had brought before answering his question. “They love playing outside, of course. Reed plays soccer and is pretty athletic. River loves books and video games. He’s a bit of a nerd like his mom.”

  “Hey, nerds rule,” Marcus interjected with a wide smile. “I’m a proud nerd!”

  “I love that about you,” I admitted. “I’ve always had a bit of a thing for nerds...”

  “Lucky me!” He flagged down the waitress and proceeded to order us two alcoholic drinks.

  I felt like such an adult all the sudden, which was weird because I always got to experience the non-fun parts of adulting: taking care of kids, working two jobs and paying bills. But I rarely got to partake of the fun parts: indulging in adult drinks, staying out late, or enjoying sex. This week, it was like all the fun adult stuff I’d missed out on during the past few years had been crammed into two nights. Maybe it was just the start of a new and exciting adult adventure for me? I was almost too scared to hope for it.

  “So, I’m guessing Sweetopia is just a stepping stone to what you really want to do with your life. Right?” I asked while we waited for our drinks to arrive.

  “You could say that,” he answered, his eyes flickering with passion. “I’m actually somewhat of an artist. I’ve been studying art since I was your son’s age, and I’ve gotten to do a fair amount of traveling to check out ancient and Renaissance pieces. I’m really into both time periods. That’s why I’m going to Greece here soon—to study sculpture with Kristoph Kostopoulos, the famous art historian and archaeologist.”

  “And Sweetopia is going to let you leave during the middle of the busy season like that?” It did seem strange that I could barely get a weekend off, but the Sweets would let some summer temp come and go as he pleased.

  “Oh, well, yeah, it was arranged way in advance,” he explained. “Like I said, the accent helps a lot.” He winked again, probably his third wink of the evening. Was that like a British thing? I wondered.

  “What do you plan to do with all your art knowledge?” I pressed a little harder. “Like for a job?”

  “Good question.” The server arrived right then with our drinks, which were a pretty coral color. He took a sip of his and swirled the liquid and ice around in its glass for a moment. “I honestly don’t know yet. I guess I will have to go back to school at some point. MFA maybe? Maybe teaching? Or work at a museum?”

  It seemed a little strange to me that he hadn’t figured that part out, but who was I to talk? I had dropped out of college and had been wanting to pursue an acting career for what seemed like forever, and what had I achieved? I was a costumed character at a children’s theme park and a dominatrix. And I was six years older than Marcus. I was not one to judge when it came to setting and achieving goals.

  “What about you?” His eyes lifted from the drink to
meet mine. And there was that smoldering look again, the one that said he wanted to rip my clothes off and have his way with me. I really liked that look.

  “Oh, right now I just want to make it through the week,” I said with a sardonic laugh. It wasn’t untrue, even if it did sound pathetic. “Eventually I want to be an actress. I was hoping that this Red Velvet Queen gig would lead to something with Sweet Enterprises, but I don’t think they like me much.”

  “No?” He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

  I shrugged then followed it up with an eye roll, because of course I knew the reason. “They wanted to hire a robot. They got a real person instead. You know, one with a need for breaks and days off and fair compensation. That sort of thing.”

  He continued to stare into my eyes, but his expression didn’t waver. I wasn’t sure what that meant. That he was on the Sweets’ side? How could anyone be on their side?

  Maybe she was more involved in this employee uprising than I previously believed. But she’s so busy with her kids—and she’s relatively new at the park—she can’t be the one organizing it. It was probably Colleen. Colleen was the name I should give up to my parents. She and Buster were probably behind it. I didn’t want to say anything that might get Jolie in trouble. I knew she needed this job. Maybe I could put in a good word so she could get the Red Velvet Queen role on the silver screen—if there is a movie...

  “Marcus?” came her soft voice floating across the table.

  I didn’t know where my mind had wandered off to, but she had already finished half her cocktail. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a moment. Do you want another? Something to eat?”

  She giggled. Maybe the alcohol was affecting her already. “No, nothing to eat. Another one of these might be nice. So fruity!”

  “Yep, my man Carlos behind the bar just added this to their summer menu. Fresh mango. Can’t go wrong with fresh mango.”

  She just stared at me like how the hell are you on a first-name basis with Carlos?

  “I used to work here,” I lied. Duh, that was stupid. Especially after I said I got a table because of my accent. The truth was that I came there a lot with Clem, and with Carson too, if he could ditch the ball-and-chain for the evening. Going out drinking with my bros was one of the only things the three of us did together.

  Confusion flickered across her features, but she took a long sip of the cocktail. Good. Maybe she won’t realize what I said. God, I feel like such a tool.

  “So how much time do you have tonight?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

  She glanced down at her phone, which she had placed on the table next to her pocketbook. “Maybe an hour? Sorry I can’t stay longer.”

  I wondered how many times I would get to see her before I left for Greece next week. I needed to make the most of every moment. I hated to say this, but I was going to miss her when I was gone. I wished I could ask her to come with me.

  “Maybe we can walk along the canal for a bit after our second round?” I suggested, searching her face for clues she was beginning to have feelings for me as well.

  Feelings. I didn’t do feelings. At least I had never done them before. I couldn’t even sleep last night, I was so high on the endorphins that had flooded my body when I fucked her senseless. Only that second round, it didn’t feel like fucking. It felt like something different...something more intense, more meaningful.

  Maybe that was what lovemaking was? What we had done last night?

  She laid her hand on top of mine and locked her amethyst eyes with my deep dark browns. “I really like you, Marcus.”

  “Good, I really like you too,” I fired back more confidently than I was feeling.

  “You’re just so real. So down to earth. I really appreciate that. I can’t handle fake people. Ain’t nobody got time for that, right?” She smiled, then the server stopped by, interrupting the moment.

  I ordered two more drinks as her words sank in. She thinks I’m real. Down to earth.

  Fuck.

  Marcus is real. Down to earth. Cy is a real spoiled brat.

  Maybe I wasn’t really Cy anymore? I would come clean to her before I left for Greece. If she could forgive me, maybe we could pursue something...more serious...when I returned?

  There had to be a way to give my parents what they wanted, keep my inheritance, and get the girl too. I was smart. I could figure this out.

  After we finished our second round of drinks, I paid the tab, and we left, hand in hand, to stroll along the moonlit canal. The silver moonbeams dappled on the water, streaked with the reflection of all the golden lamps dotting the sidewalks on each side. Jolie’s hand felt so small and soft in mine. I knew she was six years older than me, but something about her was so delicate, vulnerable. I wanted to take care of her. Wanted to protect her.

  I couldn’t remember ever feeling that way before about anyone.

  The canal crossed over the street and curved its way toward the beach. I loved all the water in my hometown. Getting to walk on the beach with this beautiful creature would be the highlight of my night. Amidst the croaking frogs and crickets’ serenade, we stepped off the sidewalk onto the cool silver sand. Twenty yards ahead the gulf gently lapped at the shore.

  “Want to walk along the water?” I asked, squeezing her hand in mind.

  “Yes, but I need to leave pretty soon...” She sighed then reached down to take off her sandals so her bare feet could sink into the sand. I followed suit, and then we made our way across the beach toward the water.

  “Oh, it’s so warm,” she giggled as the waves rushed over her feet.

  I couldn’t bear to go another moment with my lips not on hers, so I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her toward me until our chests met, followed soon after by our lips. I would stand here with the waves rolling over our feet devouring her for as long as she would let me.

  Eleven

  I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there was a little extra spring in my step as I bounced into the castle that Monday morning in my pink Sweetopia polo shirt. Though I would have loved for Jolie to spend the night after our epic romp on Friday night or our moonlit stroll on the beach on Saturday, I did understand she had to take care of her sons. I left her to that all of yesterday, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. I still couldn’t believe I was dating a MILF.

  Me, dating? I didn’t know if that was really what to call it, but we had definitely progressed past hooking up in her dressing room. That wasn’t going to stop me from hunting her down in her dressing room before work, though. I just couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  I took a right, then a left to head toward the bakery when I was suddenly tackled from behind. “What the fuck?!” I glanced behind me to find my older brother Clem hanging on my back. “Get the fuck off me, dude!”

  “Hey, were you whistling?” he asked as he jumped off me. I noticed his company polo shirt was a light gray in color. That seemed patently unfair.

  “Whistling? Do I look like the type of guy who whistles?” I was so used to having my accent in this building that it came out automatically.

  “What, are you pretending to be British now?” He pursed his lips as he looked me up and down. “And since when do you wear glasses?”

  “It’s part of the disguise, dumbass. Remember? Undercover boss?” I whispered the last part. Still kept the accent up, though.

  “Knock off the accent, for fuck’s sake. You sound ridiculous,” he chided me.

  “Too late now. Everyone here knows I have it!” I beamed at him.

  “Including The Red Velvet Queen, right? I know you’re banging her.” He shoved me at the shoulder, knocking me back against the concrete wall of the tunnel.

  “What the hell was that for? And how is it any of your business who I bang?” I seethed. Then I thought of Jolie, and my features softened. “By the way, I prefer the term ‘make sweet love to.’ Get it?”

  “As long as you’re pumping her for information, it’s my business. You know, some people t
hink she’s the mastermind behind all the negative press we’re getting.” Clem folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t say I blame you, though. She is the perfect target. Hot as hell too.”

  I glared at him. Even though I’d heard him and Carson talking about her before, now that I’d gotten to know her—especially intimately—I found their comments completely obnoxious and unwarranted. She was mine now, and I wouldn’t stand for them ogling her like a prime piece of meat.

  “So, the queen does put out, then? Is she any good?” Clem continued, and I had to fight off the urge to pop him in the mouth. “Even more importantly, have you gotten her to call off the strike? Or the press conference tomorrow night?”

  “Marcus?” came a familiar voice behind me.

  Fuck. It was Colleen.

  I shot my brother a glare but didn’t say a word. He waved to Colleen and then disappeared in the direction she had come from.

  “You know Clem Sweet?” she asked, cocking her head to stare at me.

  “A little,” I answered. “He hired me...and my sister used to date him.”

  Where were these lies coming from? They were flying off my tongue like arrows shot from a bow. Arrows I had absolutely no control over.

  “I see.” Her eyes never left mine as she crossed her arms in front of her. I could tell from those two little words that her suspicions had not been quelled.

  “So, the location for the meeting tonight?” I reminded her.

  Her brows furrowed for a second, and then a small smile curled her lips. “It’s been rescheduled.”

  “Really?” I wanted to mention that I knew the media thing was happening tomorrow, like Clem just told me, but then I’d have to explain how I knew that.

  She shrugged. “It’s not up to me.”

  “So do I get an invite?” I pressed.

  She shrugged again. “Also not up to me. We’ll see.” She brushed past me and headed toward the bakery. “Why are you late, anyway?”

  She was clearly as late as I was.