40. And The Tables Turn
CELESTE
The Oxford Englishdictionary didn’t have a word to convey the emotional gamut running through me. All of the warning signs from the past two days led me to his arrival and I ignored every single one of them. Look how that turned out. I’m sure Mama and Daddy were having a good laugh at my expense while whatever guardian angel they sent after me was shaking her head in dismay.
Wes looked good. He always had an incredible body, but it was obvious with the bulging biceps and round shoulders under his t-shirt that the past decade was spent concentrating in the gym. Reading between the lines of Maggie’s vague reports over the years, I knew he had done some shirtless photo shoots in exotic looking places, and from just one encounter with him, I could see why. His hair was shorter now, no longer the shaggy mess hanging around his face, though I supposed now he no longer needed the shield from the world. He had gone ahead and made it his own.
And those blue eyes. The clearest cut sapphires to ever exist. Just looking at them again made me want to go back in time to when his presence was the safest place in the world to be. To do everything with him all over again, just to experience the joy, love, and craziness packaged as the Wesley Madden experience. He had been the greatest love I’d ever known, then let me freefall into darkness when he disappeared.
However, seeing him in The Comfy Cushion—no matter how sexy—meant a world of trouble. Iris was bound to notice a man who looked identical to her sitting in our restaurant and calling me “lovebug.” Or worse, Desiree would see him and I’d lose Iris forever. That was a chance I couldn’t take. No one was going to take my little girl from me.
The only way I could see to prevent that from happening was to go over to Ms. Shirley’s house after closing up tonight and let him get everything off his chest. I remembered all too well how immovable a stubborn Wesley could be, so if he needed to say his piece and then get on with his life, I would let him. But he needed to immediately leave River’s Run afterwards and never come back.
Just the thought of hearing him out made me breathless and twitchy. There was no way I could tell him about Iris. Unless Wesley had an entirely new personality, learning he had a daughter going on eleven years old was going to send him through the roof and he would be a battering ram to fight with Desiree over her. No, it was far better to end the war before it began and leave Iris out of it.
“Jesse, I’m gonna head back to the office for a spell,” I called out. “Let me know if anyone comes in.”
“Sure thing, boss,” he replied as he scrubbed his prep space.
Back in Daddy’s office with the door firmly shut, I allowed some of the emotions to rise to the surface. I missed Wesley so much. He hadn’t just been my first love, he had been my first friend. Someone who knew me inside and out, and accepted me anyway. Wes was the one who saved me from my own darkness, who brought laughter back into my life. He was the reason my daddy had a full year after his cancer diagnosis, a year where he received the best possible care in the world.
But we also hurt each other so deeply that day. I was grown enough now to recognize how poorly I treated him. Obviously, I had a reason to panic after having unprotected sex, though truth be told, if Iris was the outcome at the end of that choice, I would have made the same choice in every lifetime. Yet I could forgive myself for being a dumb kid. I didn’t think I could ever forgive him for promising to be there and then abandoning me. Nothing had ever kept us apart before. Not a single one of Mr. Madden’s threats ever swayed Wesley in the slightest. So what could have possibly done it then?
Wracking my brain for the answer to that question only served to circle my thoughts. There wasn’t a good reason, it was as simple as that. The Wesley I thought I knew and loved wasn’t real, and whatever promises this current Wesley spewed out would be just as empty and meaningless as those had been.
I needed to guard my heart as carefully as I guarded my daughter. Walls were going up and staying there.
A knock resounded through the room as Jesse said, “Boss, there’s somebody here for you.”
I hastily swiped the tears from my face and vowed to never again cry over Wesley Madden. “Be right there,” I said. It was time to grow up. My fairytale ending had disappeared when Prince Charming left.
Out in the dining room, I received the second shock of my day. Thankfully, I wasn’t holding anything hot this time.
Benedict Madden III, Wesley’s father, was standing in The Comfy Cushion. His tailored black suit and black shirt made him look like the Harbinger of Death, complete with the menacing scowl and dark eyes. Just seeing him made a shudder run down my spine.
“What do you want?” It was hard to be polite to him. The insults of never being good enough for Wesley were as fresh now as the day he uttered them.
The smile he gave me was malevolent. “It’s a pleasure to see you, too.”
“Wesley isn’t here,” I replied quickly. It was habit to protect Wes from his father, even after everything that happened.
“No, Desiree sent me. I bought this…diner…from her and I’m here for our meeting. Where is she?” The way he paused on diner while casting a judgmental eye about the room set my blood to boiling. We might not have white glove service like the restaurants he frequented, but that was because my parents built this place from the ground up on a dream and hard work.
Right on cue, my stepmother sauntered through the door, a triumphant sneer on her lips. “My apologies, Benedict,” she drawled. Somewhere throughout the day she had changed into a black wrap dress with a low neckline. It looked like she had her eyelashes redone, too. She batted them coyly at Mr. Madden. “I do hope you can forgive me.”
Thank God she didn’t have Iris with her.
The way he appraised her figure would have made a cat throw up. “Where is this recipe book you kept telling me about? That’s what I paid to see.”
Excuse me?!
“My mama’s recipes are NOT for sale,” I said vehemently. “And neither is our restaurant. There’s been some mistake.”
Desiree’s eyes flashed in my direction. “You failed, Celeste. This place isn’t going to be a burden on my family any longer so that I can indulge in your childish dreams to be like your mama. She’s dead, and The Comfy Cushion along with it.”
I was too stunned to speak. I knew Desiree could be cruel—downright evil, really—but this was on a whole other level. Her true colors were bleeding through and it made my stomach bottom out. “Indulging” in my dream? From the thriving restaurant she ran into the ground with her greed and poor decisions?
“Go get the book,” she commanded. An eyebrow rose in challenge, the proud smirk on her face gloating at her right to order me around.
“No, I won’t.” Mama’s recipes were what made The Comfy Cushion so special. They were what used to make people drive hours out of their way just to stop by. Our menu varied constantly as she tried something new, and guests loved that, too. There was magic to her cooking, magic that couldn’t be recreated by just anyone.
Mr. Madden scoffed at us. “Is this how you do business, Desiree? I offer you half a million dollars to put this pile of garbage in my stores and you can’t even pony up? We’re done here.” He turned on his heel towards the door.
“No! NO!” Desiree was frantic, skittering after him on her stilettos with her arms failing. “I’ll get the recipes! Don’t you worry, Benedict! You’ll have them, I swear it!”
Mr. Madden paused in the doorway. “You have three days or the deal is off.” The door bell’s chime after it closed seemed to mock the drop in temperature as his presence lingered.
Desiree rounded on me with pure hatred burning in her eyes. She crossed the dining room in two strides and slapped me hard across the face. My head flung backward, a hand clamping on my now throbbing cheek.
“You’ll produce that book by the time he returns or you’ll never see your daughter again.”
Somehow, the slap hurt less than the threat.