Page 48 of Shine: Sins of the Father
He rubs the top of my head, messing up my hair as he steps across the threshold. “What? Can’t I come check on you? Maybe I want a cupcake.”
“The second part, I believe.” I close the door behind him and move around behind the case, grabbing him a red velvet. “So, what’s new with you? How’s Tori doing? Don’t you have a lumber mill to run?”
“We closed an hour ago. And Tori’s fine. She goes to court tomorrow for the sentencing of Alex Powers.”
“Oh, right. The man who owns that vineyard.”
“Yeah, Lorenzo Cellars.”
“Well, that will finally be over, huh?”
“Yeah, they got him and the foreman, Charlie Thompson, for conspiracy and arson. Word is they could get a minimum of three to five years. Maybe more, depending on the judge.”
“I know the entire mill burned, but at least no one was killed,” I say.
“Tori’s father took it pretty hard, but it’s mostly rebuilt now, and business is looking up. Plus, he’s suing Powers for damages. Before it’s all over, Raymond Sawyer might own Lorenzo Cellars lock, stock and barrel for what he did.”
“Is he happy with your work? You’re doing a good job, right?”
“He is, yeah. I think there are ways we can improve.”
“You like working for your father-in-law?”
“Yeah, I do. We get along great now. I’m happy there, and Tori is happy her father and I have buried our differences. It’s all good. How about you? I hear business is great.” He proceeds to polish off the cupcake.
“It is. I’m actually at a point I can afford to hire some help.”
“That’s great, Fee.” He licks his thumb.
I turn to write tomorrow’s special on the board, stretching high.
“You need a footstool?” Rafe asks.
“I’ve got it.” I finish writing the flavor of the day when I hear Rafe suck in a breath.
“Fiona. What the hell?”
I turn to find him staring at my stomach. “You been eating too many cupcakes?”
“Are you calling me fat?” I move behind the register, and adjust the apron, but I feel my eyes sting. Oh, God. Not now.Don’t you dare tear up.
Suddenly, Rafe’s joking expression fades from his face, and he frowns. “Fee, take off that apron.”
“Quit teasing me. If you call me fat again, you can just leave.” I point at the front door, really hoping he’ll go.
“Fiona.”
“What?” I reply, but won’t look at him. I busy myself with printing the end-of-day register totals. I hit a few buttons, and the tape starts printing. It’s two feet long before Rafe reaches across the counter and takes my hand.
“Hey.”
Now I have to look at him. “What?”
“Are you knocked up?”
“What a crude thing to say, you jerk.” I yank my hand free.
“Okay, I’m sorry. But your belly’s poked out like you're pregnant. You’re not, are you?”
