Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer
Page 2“Or the cops warning you about littering.” Sophie chuckled.
“That would be just my luck.” She ran the palm of her hand over the cat’s middle and sighed. “And she is pregnant, isn’t she?”
Sophie nodded sadly. “Yep, no doubt about it. You’ve got two homeless hussies on your hands.”
She was dirty, tired, jetlagged, hung over, and, she realized after glancing at the email that had just come in on her cell phone, had just thirteen hours to scrape together an office outfit before starting a new temp job in the morning. She’d been dying for a good night’s sleep, but if she didn’t clear up the airborne toxins, it would probably mean none of them would actually wake up in the morning. Her throat felt dry.
“Can you put some coffee on, Soph?” Piper’s stomach clenched as she dragged in her suitcase. Last night should not have happened, for so many reasons. A one-night stand with a complete stranger? What was she thinking? “Got work in the morning and I feel like crap.”
“So don’t go.” Sophie bounced up from the sofa with a grin, her pink, sweater-clad pregnancy bump looking a gigantic marshmallow.
“I have to go.” Piper wished for once that she didn’t have to be the sensible, reliable sister. It had been fun to let it rip in Florida, but now it was over. “We have no other regular income right now, remember?”
Sophie’s freckled nose twitched and her blue eyes grew wide. “Business slow?”
“It’s doing fine, sweetheart, but silvering pretty shells for a living only works for one person, not two with a baby due any day. Still, I just got an email to say I have a temp gig in a finance department tomorrow.”
She pushed the three unanswered texts on her phone from the one night stand boy, Matt DeLeo, to the back of her mind. And then remembered the two unanswered calls she’d let go to voicemail. The unknown number was probably him as well. What would be the point of further contact? They lived thousands of miles apart and he was a self-confessed bum. A bum with a body like a Renaissance marble statue. She shook her head to dislodge the memory and winced. She didn’t remember giving him her cell phone number…
Piper almost laughed at the drama her little sister injected into her words. Four years younger than Piper, Sophie had always been a pro at turning on the waterworks. “I would never turn you away, and you know it. This arrangement is only temporary, right?”
Sophie sniffed and picked at a spot of pink fluff on her tummy. “I couldn’t go back to Alessandro, you do know that? And Mom and Dad are still angry I hooked up with him in the first place. I don’t think they’d have me back even if I begged.”
“You could try. They’ll come around when the baby’s here, trust me. Why don’t you give them a call and try to make up?” Piper yanked open a kitchen drawer. “You may even change your mind about letting Alessandro back into your life, but somebody has to pay the bills in this place while you sort your life out.”
“You were the only one I could turn to.”
“I know. It’s okay,” Piper said gently, “but I could really use some help around the place from time to time. Cat poop excluded.”
Sophie smiled gratefully. “You could always ask the old man for a loan.”
Piper slammed the drawer shut hard, a roll of trash bags gripped in her hand. “Are you crazy? Mom sold Aunt Jean’s bead collection to get me through college as it is. I can look after things myself just fine. And you, lady, can do your own dirty work and ask Dad for money.”
“I’ll bet you’re too proud to even let them pay for your wedding when your turn comes.”
“Wedding? Jeez, everything about this town has to do with love, weddings, happily ever afters, and pink. So much sickly, disgusting pink. One more wedding commission will probably make me sick, but I need all the money I can get. Correction, we need all the money I can get.”
“No way. I’m a realist and you should be too, in your position. Do you realize I’ve fallen a little behind on the mortgage? This is getting serious.”
Sophie looked genuinely uncomfortable, enough to make Piper qualify her harsh statement. “Where’s all the love after the heart-shaped gold sequins are swept away, tell me that? Divorce stats are ridiculous, sweetheart. They come here to Passion Creek, marry, leave, fight, and then split up. It’s a joke.”
“Not all of them. I’m sure some couples make it.”
“I guess you’re right, but even so, the only way I’ll marry is if I love someone so much I’d die without him. And he’d have to ask me obviously, not the other way around.”
“I guess.”
Piper tore off a garbage bag and frowned. “Sorry, I forgot. About you, him, the baby, and everything.”
“Yeah, it’s a freaking mess.”
“And you can’t even drink to forget.”
“I can eat.”
“There’s milk and cookies.”
Piper grinned. “I’ll dump the cat poop and then we’ll order in. Tacos? Pizza?”
“Fish and chips.” Sophie tossed over a takeout flyer. “There’s a brewhouse that delivers. Never heard of them—think they’re new—but it sounds good and they’re way cheap.”
Piper looked at the menu and laughed. “Well, what do you know? The Railway Tavern, right next door to where I’m working tomorrow, the Passion Creek Brewery accounts payable department. Okay, let’s go for it, and if it’s foul, I’ll take it back there in the morning.”
Forty minutes later, Sophie tore a piece of crispy batter off her fish and closed her eyes as she crunched down on it. “This is good.”
Piper grinned at the dribble of malt vinegar that trickled onto her sister’s sweater and offered a piece of fish to the cat that had snuggled up against her thigh. “Yep, sure is.”
Sophie picked up a french fry. “Oh, I forgot to say. There’s been a whole load of calls on the landline today, so I guess the shell trade must be picking up. Hopefully you won’t have to be a wage-slave temp for too much longer if Silver Bells starts raking in the dollars.”