Page 12 of Sugar Coated Lies
“A famous sports player?” I take a guess.
He shakes his head. “That is the new Vice President of the Livingston Pecan farm.”
I squint, confused.
“It’s only the largest pecan farm in Georgia and the US! And about a twenty-minute drive from here. Your pie must have really impressed him. He may want to collaborate. The advertising would be huge for us. Do whatever he wants. Give him as much pie as he wants. And above all, keep him happy.”
“I-I don’t feel comfortable talking business with him. You should talk to him. You’re the owner.”
His cheeks, what I can see of them over his beard, redden. “And you’re my employee. Now do what I said or feel free to leave.”
AKA quit.
If I weren’t in such a bad financial predicament, I might have taken him up on his threat and walked out.
Annabeth shuffles through the back door and freezes when she sees Gary.
He pins her with a stern gaze. “Cover her tables until our special guest leaves. Our little Everleigh, or rather her pie, has caught the attention of a big fish.” He grins, and it’s a creepy sight. “I’ll be watching.”
He leaves the kitchen, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Something about him makes me so sick.
“What happened?” Annabeth walks over.
“Gary is pimping me out.”
“What?” She glances at Mike.
He dries his hands on a dishtowel and walks over. “Talk to the man. Find out why he’s here, if you can, but don’t do anything you’re not comfortable doing. You hear me?” Mike says with all the protectiveness of a father.
I love him for it, but Mike is as old and out-of-shape as Gary. The two would die from heart attacks if they ever got into a fight. And I could never let anyone get into a fight because of me.
Annabeth says, “If he likes your pie and wants to collaborate as Gary says, this could be a win for you, too.”
“I’ll try to be quick,” I say to Annabeth. The early dinner shift hits hard on a Saturday.
“Enjoy the break and the view while you’re out there.” She wiggles her brows.
I roll my eyes and return to Mr. Pecan Pie. I’ll have to Google him later.
“Sorry about that.” I hook a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Did you still want company?”
He blinks as if surprised and gestures to the booth across from him. “I wasn’t sure you’d be allowed.”
“I wasn’t, either.” I giggle and sit. “So…the pie is as good as you remember?”
His gaze flits about my face and hair. “Better. Much better.”
“My boss tells me you’re in the pecan business.” Might as well be honest.
His lips purse, and he nods. “I’m surprised he knows who I am.”
“I am, too.” I lean forward and rest my hands on the table. “Is that why you’re here? Your business and possibly our pies?”
He inhales a deep breath and takes his time to respond, as if he’s not sure what to say.
“I’m sorry if that was presumptuous.”
“Not at all. I am the VP of a pecan farm, and your pie is scrumptious. I haven’t tasted any as good before, and I’ve tasteda lotof pie.”
