Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,82

available to you. Not in any way. Respect that, please. If you don’t, it will come at a price. One you won’t be able to afford, even with all your money and influence. I will take this story—my story of a single mother working in the sex trade to provide for her young child, only to be bullied by a powerful businessman when she tried to change her life—to the media.”

“Don’t make empty threats. I know you wouldn’t do that to your daughter.”

“I would do that, to protect my daughter. I don’t want you in our life. You have no right to be there. I’m positive that most respectable media outlets would provide me with anonymity in exchange for the story, especially when I have proof of your identity, and I’m not interested in receiving payment for my story.” The satisfaction she’d anticipated feeling failed to materialize, even when some of the color drained from his face. “I’m leaving now. I truly hope I never have to think about you again.”

From behind the reception desk, Enzo’s assistant gave her a thumbs-up as she passed.

Candace had stuck her neck—and her boobs—out today for personal reasons only. If, in doing so, she’d also protected other women from Enzo’s demands and control, even better. Still, she wasn’t looking to be anybody’s hero. Right now, she just wanted to be free. Of Enzo. Of Candy. Of every bad decision she’d made.

Alone in the elevator, she removed the padding from her bra. Buttoned her blouse and tucked it into her skirt, then slid her arms into the blazer and fastened its two buttons. She secured her hair in a quick bun. With one floor left to descend, she wiped off the scarlet lipstick. By the time the chime signaled her arrival at the main floor, Candy was gone.

Only the concierge and security guard were present in the lobby. Her heels on the tile floor echoed as she crossed to the door without giving either man a glance. If they watched her go, their attention bounced off her defenses without registering. She didn’t need Candy’s strength anymore. She had her own, and she was free.

Jake

There was a good chance this stunt was going to bite him in the ass. A chance he’d take, because if it didn’t bite him, it might win him the girl. Both the girls.

Jake hopped out of his SUV and headed toward Candace’s door, sending the text he’d pre-written as he approached.

I’m at your place. I know I don’t deserve a minute of your time. I don’t deserve a chance to apologize. But I’m hoping you’ll open the door anyway. I’m knocking now. Please open the door. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right with you.

“Hey,” he said to the neighbor when the man stuck his head out the door. “Just knocking. Politely. I swear.”

“I’ll be watching,” the man said. “I’m always watching.”

The swoosh from her incoming reply drew Jake’s attention from the heavy-browed neighbor.

I’m not home.

The neighborhood watchman retreated into his townhouse as Jake fired off another message.

I know you are. I’ve been waiting out front for you since before you left to take Macy to school. Sorry if that’s creepy. Also, you should learn to be more aware of your surroundings. I wasn’t even attempting to hide, and you didn’t notice me. Good thing your neighbor is around to keep an eye on things.

His head snapped up at the sound of her chain lock and deadbolt.

“My neighbor?” she asked, standing in the semi-open doorway. “What are you talking about?”

Goddamn, she was beautiful. There was a new lightness about her, not only in the way she looked, it was more of a presence. Even more than she’d had before.

“The man next door.” He forced his gaze from her face to glance toward the neighboring unit and its now-vacant front step. “He threatened to call the cops on me last time I was here. Which I deserved. He poked his head out and gave me a subtle warning when he saw me coming up the walk just now.”

“Really?” She stepped partway out to take a look. “I’ve never spoken to him, beyond a generic greeting. I don’t even know his first name.”

“Well, whatever his reason, he feels protective of you. I respect and appreciate that, because I feel that way too.”

She nailed him with a one-eyebrow-raised stare. “Is that how you rationalize stalking me?”

“Stalking is harassment and also implies movement, neither of which I did, or would ever do. If