Ana nodded. “You are Sugar Dancer, Kat. And the thing is, your story is interesting and inspiring.”
Her lips twitched. She loved Ana, she truly did, but the girl was laying it on a bit thick. “Hardly.”
Ana touched her arm. “It really is. You’ll see if you trust me. You’ll have to do hours of taping, but some of it will be during your regular work when you can just ignore the camera crew. But I also need to get demo pieces of you prepping, baking, decorating and maybe a good one of you setting up a wedding cake at a venue. It’s a lot to ask of you. But I’m asking.”
The idea of it terrified her. Excited her.
“Kat, we’d have good footage to send to the shows.” She slid off her stool, went to the desk and picked up her iPad. After returning to the stool, she set the computer on the table by Kat. “I have three picked out. It’s part of my marketing plan.”
Her head spun, and Kat gripped the edges of the table. “Ana, I can probably do the taping in my bakery. But I can’t go on a cooking show.” She hated her weakness. But this part of Ana’s pitch wasn’t new. The girl had been hounding her about going on a show that featured bakers.
“Cross that bridge when you come to it. You can always say no if—no when—a call comes to have you on a show.” Resting an elbow on the table, she added, “What’s your ultimate goal for Sugar Dancer?”
Kat smiled. “Open bakeries all over the U.S. and make Sugar Dancer a brand right down to premixed packages for baking at home.” Ana had pulled that dream out of her more than once. “But I need additional capital to open more bakeries.” Plus all the issues of scouting locations, finding the right employees and training them, it was a huge time and financial investment.
“You need exposure. Give me this shot. And trust me. If you don’t like the final project, I’ll only turn it in for my grade. We’ll write up a contract that the work can only be used for my grade unless you give approval.”
“When do you need an answer?”
Ana looked sheepish. “I need to start taping tomorrow or Saturday at the latest.” She touched her computer screen. “I’ve got a proposal for you here to look at. But I do need an answer by tonight.”
“Ana! Why did you wait so long to ask?”
“For one thing, I’ve been working on it and I didn’t want you to see it until it was right. And I didn’t want you to think too long and talk yourself out of it. Sometimes you just need to take a leap.”
The bell rang, indicating a new customer coming through the door.
Rising, Ana said, “I’ll make Sugar Dancer and you shine. You have nothing to lose here—if you don’t like the final product, you can refuse to allow me to do anything with it other than turn it in for a grade.” She headed out to help the customer.
Kat pulled the iPad onto her lap and began reading Ana’s proposal. Her chest squeezed. Where Kat usually didn’t talk about her leg or the mugging publicly, Ana wanted to use all that as part of Kat’s backstory, along with leaving the family business to follow her dream.
The idea made her anxious. But she also understood what Ana was doing—giving Kat a story of triumph over tragedy. Having her life exposed after years of hiding gave her a lightheaded sensation. Could she do this?
Well she’d never know if she didn’t try, now would she? A month ago, she’d have sworn having a relationship with a man was impossible. She was doing that. Maybe it was sex only, but that was still progress. Excitement and nerves fizzed in her veins, energizing her. Rising, she stored Ana’s iPad then picked up the tray of the pretty raspberry hearts. In the front, she expertly slid the rack of fresh cookies into the glass case.
She looked around Sugar Dancer, taking in the round chrome tables with the fire-red seats. Half the tables had customers eating treats and chatting. A few kids hung out at the high bar with stools that stretched along the back wall. Pecan walls set off the canvasses of brightly colored dancer forms. Kat loved the way the artist had made it appear that each dancer was made from sugar crystals.
Natural light flooded the bakery from the floor-to-ceiling windows on Kat’s right.
“Thinking about it?” Ana handed her a cup of coffee that was already sweetened and lightened.
“You’re persuasive.” Kat sipped the drink. She still had a long evening in front of her, including two cake tastings for prospective brides.
“So you’ll do it?”
Kat set her coffee down. “I dreamed of owning my own bakery since my brother gave me an Easy-Bake Oven.” Marshall. Her stomach rippled with the memory. While her parents had thought her baking a waste of time, he’d supported her.
“Oh! See, that’s a great anecdote for your bio piece.”
Ana’s enthusiasm was contagious. “But now I want more. Sugar Dancer is just the beginning.”
The other girl’s grin lit up her face.
“Let’s try it. I’ll be your marketing project. If we like the tape, submit it, and if I get a callback—then we’ll see if I can manage my panic attacks enough to do it.”
And while she was taking risks, Kat pulled out her cellphone and called her brother. She had to try.
* * *
“Smells great in here. What’s for breakfast?”
Closing and relocking her bakery door since she didn’t officially open for almost an hour, Kat eyed her brother. He looked good. She was still a little surprised that he’d agreed to meet her for breakfast less than twenty-four hours after she’d called him. “Hello to you too.”
Marshall flashed a grin. “Lila makes me eat healthy. I can’t sleep nights from the noise of blood whooshing through my disgustingly clear arteries. I need some fat to clog those suckers up.”
Shaking her head, Kat headed to the coffeepot. “Go in the kitchen. I’ve got several kinds of muffins and a coffee cake on the cooling racks.”
“Sweet.” He breezed past her.
That was Marshall. He held a PhD in immunology, worked ridiculous hours researching and developing better medications and protocols for connective-tissue disorders, but when something caught his attention, he bubbled with little-boy enthusiasm. Just as he’d done for her baking disasters when she was a kid.
He carried a plate filled with muffins, cake and cookies.
“If Lila finds out,” Kat scolded as she followed him to a table, “you’ll be in trouble.”
He took a monster bite out of a chocolate chip muffin. “Worth it.” After devouring another bite, he added, “So worth it.”
“Trying to clog up your arteries in record time, I see.” Warmth filled her chest. Marshall used to choke down her mistakes and say that she was getting better. He’d been there for her the only way he knew how. Now she was going to bring up something that could ruin their relationship.
“How is business going?”
Okay, niceties first. “Good. What about you? You have two drugs in the pipeline? How’s the research protocols going?” It was a very complex, intensive process to run the test groups.
“The Lupus test is super promising.” His eyes glowed. “When we have more time, I’ll tell you about it.” He chose a banana nut muffin. “But I came here to find out how you’re doing.”
A little pang hit her chest. She’d hated her job at SiriX, but she loved hearing Marshall talk about his work. He cared deeply about what he was doing, driven to find better medications to help Lupus patients. Why didn’t she call him more often?
Setting the muffin down, Marshall pushed to his feet.
Crap, she’d been daydreaming instead of answering. “What are you doing?” Was he leaving?
“I’m getting more coffee.”
“I’ll—”
He tugged her ponytail. “Sit. I’ll get it.” He returned, topped off their cups. “More cream and sugar?”
“No thanks.” He knew she took cream and sugar. Marshall wasn’t as oblivious as people believed. He saw and catalogued everything around him. That absentminded-professor thing he did—that was a way of avoiding confrontation. Marshall didn’t waste energy arguing, he just quietly did what he wanted to do.
Sitting, he finished off his second muffin. “I care, Katie. You gave up a lot for Sugar Dancer. I want to know it’s worth it.”
Easy to answer. “Yes. I love it.” Leaning forward, she launched into how far the bakery had come and told him about Ana’s marketing project.
His eyes crinkled. “Way to make the parents insane. Expand the bakery, prove them wrong.” He checked the time on his cellphone. “Better tell me why you wanted to see me.”
She bit the insides of her cheeks, part of her not wanting to rock this boat. Would Marshall believe her? Or would this come between them? Hell, she could be making a wild leap based on assumptions about David with no real proof.
Yet the ache in her leg reminded her that what had happened had been real. And it hadn’t been a mugging.
She had to try. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but I think David might be into something he shouldn’t be. And if I’m right, whatever he’s into caused our attack six years ago.”
Please don’t get up and walk out.
Kat held her breath, waiting.
Marshall reached across the table and caught her hand. “I don’t know what happened that night you and David were attacked. It’s possible David’s version is true. You have traumatic amnesia and you’ve experienced some personality change whether you want to admit it or not.” Squeezing her hand, he said flatly, “You don’t remember what happened, Katie. Your flashes could be real, or they could be a manifestation of your mind trying to fill in the blanks. You know it’s possible.”
She ground her teeth together, struggling for the logic that might reach him. “Yes. But what if David’s version is a lie? You said you don’t know. You weren’t there.”
He regarded her carefully. “The best thing you ever did was leave David and SiriX.”
Whoa, that was a conversational shift she hadn’t expected. “What does that mean?”
Marshall glanced at the table, then back up. “Do you know why you’re not in my wedding?”
That was like poking a sore spot she didn’t want to admit she had. She needed to stay unemotional and focused if she had any hope of getting him to hear her. “Because David’s your best man.”
His mouth whitened as he compressed his lips. “No. It’s because I want you safe. You’re not the only one seeing changes in David. Right now, you’re off the radar. If David is into something dangerous, you’re not in his life, not as his fiancée or at work. You’re safe and you’re going to remain that way. Stay away from David and from SiriX.”
Confusion blanketed her mind, then slowly evaporated. “You’re…” What? She didn’t know.
“Protecting my sister. I don’t know what David is or isn’t doing. I really don’t, so swallow your questions. But I know this—he didn’t do shit to protect you that night. I’d rather see you with a man like Sloane who has the guts to stand up for you. Don’t misunderstand me. Sloane hurts you and I have access to drugs that will render him permanently impotent.”
This whole conversation was incredulous, but she laughed. “That’s evil.”
“Geniuses are like that, haven’t you heard?”
Relief mixed with concern. “What do we do? How do we find out if David’s into something? It could affect SiriX and all of you.” Kat may not be a part of that world any longer, but she cared what happened to her brother, her parents and all the employees.
Resolve hardened his eyes. “You do nothing. Stay away from him.”
“But I’m worried about you. What if—?”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “Katie, if it’s true, you’ve paid enough of a price. You let me worry about it. Now I have to go.”
Kat got up and headed to the door. Following her big brother just as she had when they were kids. Only now, the stakes were high and potentially dangerous. “What are you doing?” He had layers few people suspected.
“Waking up and using my vastly superior intelligence.” He took her by the shoulders. “Focus on your bakery. Expand it. When you’re ready, I have some money I can invest, and I’ll cosign a loan for you if you need it.”
Her throat tightened. “You would do that?”
“Invest in my sister? Yes.”
The realization that she hadn’t lost her brother swamped her with emotion. She gripped his arm. “I know David’s your friend, but be careful.”
His eyes took on a solemn weight. “We haven’t been friends in years. David’s in my wedding because I never got around to mentioning that fact to him. Or Mom and Dad. Or anyone else except Lila.”
That was exactly the kind of layers she was talking about. He was keeping David close and watching him, but not confronting him. “Damn. You are devious.”
“That’s evil genius to you, baby sister.”