Chapter Thirty-Four
Familiar nerves danced in August’s stomach, but he was ready. “Excited” was going a little far, but Sloane had come up with a good plan. No more dating his “fans.” No more IG Lives, at least for the near future. He’d promised to stay open to the possibility if a really cool idea came up. Like he could ever say no to her. She’d looked at him with her soulful eyes and he’d been toast. Happily.
“Remember, be yourself,” Sloane said.
Right. That was the plan.
“I believe in you.” She followed that up with a soft kiss. He nearly groaned when the short embrace ended. He’d never tire of tasting her lips, of inhaling her scent, of luxuriating in her presence. He was in love with her. But he sensed a reserve in her that hadn’t entirely gone away after their talk in her shower.
So he’d go slow.
She’d closed her heart years ago, and to expect her to simply open it because he was the awesomest guy in the world was ridiculous. But he was only human. She had her reservations, but so did he. Would she want to stick by his side through good and bad, through thick and thin, or would she retreat like his dad and his ex-wife had?
But torturing himself like that solved nothing. It’s not like he’d told her the full truth about why he’d decided to pursue social media stardom, so he needed to chill. Being a hypocrite was not the move. They were together now, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d be together for the rest of their lives.
But first, a podcast. Good Lord, he was doing a podcast.
“We should do a podcast and use it as neighborhood outreach,” she’d said. “We’ll help the community at large and the business at the same time. It’s perfect.”
Her excitement was infectious. “Can I ask you something?” At her nod, he finally gave voice to a question that had been plaguing him for days. “You really seem to be happy doing what you’re doing. Do you really want to work for that other company?”
She looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Yes! It’s a dream job, and I won’t be riding my brother’s coattails.”
The look on her face made it clear the subject was closed, so he simply nodded and changed the subject. That was yesterday. Today was today.
He looked at all the equipment Sloane had purchased and set up. She’d had a lot of fun using the company credit card. He had no clue what everything did. Wires and speakers and little black boxes were everywhere.
“Trust me. I got it,” Sloane had assured him as they unpacked the boxes. And she did. Apparently, being a sound engineer was in her bag of tricks as a social media manager. It was sexy as hell.
She slipped on a shiny new pair of professional-looking black headphones. “Ready?”
He adjusted his own headphones and nodded. “Yes.”
“Excellent. Recording begins in three, two, one.” She injected a light tone into her voice. “Welcome to Sugar Blitz Talk with SugarBae, August Hodges.”
“What’s up, Sloane?” he said. He sounded normal. The key, as always, was to focus on her. They were just talking like they always did. He never felt more comfortable, more himself, than when he was speaking with her.
“I’m excited to be here and to talk about issues that are close to both of our hearts.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed. “Exactly. We want to highlight unsung women in society, and the work they do to make their communities better.”
Sloane’s eyes gleamed. “As you know, I’m ridiculously excited about this. Every week, we’ll talk to a different woman from communities all across the US. If you want to nominate one of these special women, please hit us up in our inbox. We’re starting with a local hero right here in San Diego.”
That was his cue. “Our first guest ever on this podcast is Cynthia Franklin.”
“For those of you not in the know, August and his partners are planning to open a second location of their cupcake shop, but some residents aren’t happy about it.”
“That’s right,” Cynthia interjected, looking him up and down disapprovingly. “We’re not.”
August exchanged an amused glance with Sloane. Cynthia still wasn’t sure if they were setting her up, but she hadn’t been able to resist the allure of telling her side of the story.
Sloane spoke. “She’s been a community organizer for decades, heavily involved in making San Diego a better, more equitable place. She’s organized fundraisers for the local library, civil rights sit-ins at city hall, and tons of other things.”
Cynthia’s frown showed no signs of abating. “I know your date with my daughter didn’t go well. Is this your way of buttering me up so I don’t kick your behind?”
A burst of genuine laughter bubbled from August’s chest. “Only if it works.”
Cynthia’s lips pursed. “The only reason I didn’t hang up when you called is because my daughter said you were very nice, checking in on her after your date. You can’t be all bad.”
August covered his heart with his hand while he struggled not to laugh. Look at that. He was, dare he say, having fun . “Thank you. I think.”
Sloane laughed. “Tell us why you’re concerned about the shop.”
The expression on Cynthia’s face turned serious. “It’s not just the shop. It’s what you plan to do after the shop opens. Open up more businesses, jack up the rent, push out residents who’ve been here for decades.”
“We have no plans to do that,” August said.
She let out a joyless laugh. “I’ve heard that before from people who probably meant it, but then the allure of money becomes too much to ignore, and all those so-called principles go right out the window.”
“I don’t doubt it, but all we can do is continue to be us and show you who we are. If you’ll let us.”
Cynthia harrumphed. “We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will,” Sloane said. “That’s one of the reasons we invited you onto the podcast. We wanted you to be the first to hear the news.”
“What news?” Cynthia’s suspicion had ramped up to Level 533. It took everything in August not to wilt under her glare.
Donovan and Nicholas, who’d been hiding in the hallway, entered the room.
“What is this?” Cynthia hissed. “What’s going on here?”
“Everyone, Nicholas Connors and Donovan Dell, the other co-owners of Sugar Blitz, are joining us,” Sloane said. Donovan and Nicholas slipped on headphones and sat.
“Happy to have you here, fellas,” August said.
“We’re happy to be here,” Donovan said.
“Some might even say thrilled, ” Nicholas, ever the showman, added.
“I’m not one of them,” Cynthia said.
August laughed. “Give it a minute. Maybe you will be.”
“All three of us wanted to be here to share the news with you, Cynthia. While we can’t say we loved having picketers outside our business, you did make us think,” Donovan said. He nodded at Nicholas.
“As you know, we own several buildings on this block,” Nicholas added with a charming smile.
“Yes, I know,” Cynthia said, clearly uncharmed.
Nicholas laughed and nodded at August. As a group, they’d decided August would be the one to share, since this was “his” podcast after all.
August leaned toward his mic. “In addition to committing to hiring people from this neighborhood, we’ve decided to turn one of the buildings into a multipurpose community center.”
Cynthia’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. What?”
August’s smile spread. “It’s true. The community center will be a place for people to gather, but we are also committed to making it a place where people can get job and skills training as well as rental and housing assistance. Kids can get help with their homework and play sports while they wait for their parents to get off work.”
Sloane had laid out the idea to him and his partners. They’d all come onboard quickly because it was brilliant. Sloane was brilliant. And she was his. And he was hers.
Sniffling brought him back to the present. Tears had started to slide down Cynthia’s cheeks. “Are you serious?” she asked.
August looked across at Sloane. She, too, was crying. Okay, yeah, this was a cool moment.
“Yes, we are,” he said.
“The plans are still in development, but it’s absolutely happening,” Sloane said.
Cynthia clasped her hands together. “Oh, my goodness. I can’t wait to tell my husband.”
Sloane leaped from her chair. “Why don’t you call him? Do you mind if we listen in on the call?”
“No, after that announcement, you can do whatever you want.” Cynthia dialed her phone and set it on the table. Sloane set up a microphone next to it to catch the output from the speaker.
“Hello,” Ben said. His voice came through loud and clear. August looked across at Sloane, who was beaming. She was pleased with that development. He grinned. Always with her eye on the social media prize.
“Ben, honey, we did it, Ben! We did it,” Cynthia said, practically kicking her heels.
“Did what?” Ben asked. “Are they treating you well? Do I need to come down there?”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes, they’re treating me well. No, you don’t need to come down here.”
“You sound worked up. What’s going on?”
A couple who was suspicious together stayed together, apparently. August looked at Sloane again. Her lips were twitching.
Cynthia quickly explained.
“Yes, ma’am!” Ben exclaimed when she was done. “I knew you would get those young’uns to see the errors of their ways. My wife is the baddest woman on the planet.”
The call ended, and, as planned, Nicholas and Donovan took their leave with high fives all around. After a five-minute break, they resumed taping.
“Your husband’s support was very sweet,” Sloane said.
“Thank you,” Cynthia said with a proud smile. “Ben is with me every step of the way.”
“But you’re the leader,” August said.
“I am, and my husband has always supported me in my causes. He never tries to steal my shine. He’s there to support me, never to talk over me.”
“That’s great that you have such a supportive partner,” Sloane said.
“It is,” August said. “You’re lucky.”
Cynthia gave a wise, all-knowing nod. “And don’t I know it. I’ve seen a lot in my day. Partners not being partners to their spouses. Not supporting them when they need it most.”
“Yeah, my mother never got the credit she deserved.” August stilled. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Sloane sat up straight and reached for his hand. “August, are you okay?”
Yeah, this was not the direction this episode was supposed to go in. He searched for an answer. No, he wasn’t okay. Not when it came to his mom.
“Why don’t you tell us about her?” Cynthia said quietly, reaching for his other hand. “You look like you have a lot on your mind. Like I always tell my daughter, the healing can only start after you acknowledge the feelings.”
August shook his head. “We’re supposed to be talking about you.”
“We can do that after you say what you need to say.” Her eyes, once so suspicious, now offered only kindness and sympathy. Understanding.
August’s eyes fluttered shut as memories bombarded him. “She was a chef. Self-taught. There wasn’t any money to send her to culinary school, but she didn’t let that stop her. She was always trying new recipes, studying the techniques of world-renowned chefs to get better. She fed the neighborhood. Anybody who needed some good home cooking with a twist knew they could stop by our house at dinnertime, and she’d feed them. And they’d leave with the best dessert they’d ever had in their entire lives.”
“Sounds like an incredible woman,” Sloane said.
“She was, and then she got sick. She passed away when I was young. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I found out my father had built his success on her recipes.”
A lifetime of weight lifted from his shoulders as he told the unfiltered truth for the first time in his life. He may not ever be comfortable speaking in front of a crowd, but speaking the truth would always be his calling.
“Your father?” Cynthia asked.
“Yes, he’s Dale Hodges.”
“The chef.”
“Yes.”
Telling the truth had never felt so good.