C.A.K.E

Chapter 16: Crystals & Handcuffs

“What are we going to do?” Arden asks.

Eli rests his hands on the edge of the vanity, hanging his head over the sink. He curls his fingers into

fists so tight, that his knuckles begin to glow a pearly white.

He shakes his head, then slams his fists against the quartz vanity. Arden flinches at the sound of his

hands hitting the slab of stone. Eli lifts his head and stares at the mirror. His eyes are hooded marbles

of ice.

Arden places her hand on Elliott's shoulder, keeping her focus on the reflection of the distant man in

the mirror. He doesn't acknowledge her touch. The growing tension in his jaw drains the anger from

her, making room for another emotion.

“Eli?”

Elliott rushes past her, out the bathroom. He grabs his keys and heads for the front door.

Arden follows him, pleading for him to talk to her. Still no answer. He steps onto the elevator with a

scowl painted on his comforting features.

“Elliott, wait.” She reaches for his hand. But he slips out her grip. So she steps onto the elevator with

him.

She asks where he's going. Again, he stares straight ahead. He's moving like a robot on autopilot. A

shutdown like this doesn't happen often. But when it does, he's colder than an Alaskan winter.

Jamming the stop button with her index finger, she brings the elevator to a halt.

“I understand that you're upset.” Arden steps in front of him and lifts his chin. “But you'd better talk to

me.”

“You know where I'm going, Arden.” He places his hands at her waist and moves her aside. Then he

starts the elevator on its way again.

She does know where he's going. But just as he reminded her not too long ago, that woman isn't worth

the jail time.

“I want to throttle her just as much as you do. But we're not going to be much help to Rowan and

Teagan if we're both behind bars.”

Elliott stares back at her like he's trying to process what she just said. The elevator stops on the ground

floor. Its doors open, revealing the underground parking garage that's accessible only to residents. He

pauses on the threshold, leaning his back against the pocket where the elevator doors disappeared.

“You're right.” He nods at her. “You should go back upstairs.”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and starts a very determined walk toward his car.

Arden chases after him. Her eyes travel down to his bare feet. Their reddened state, and his apparent

oblivion to the cold concrete floor, quickens her own feet.

“Elliott,” she screams after him. Her voice hits the bare concrete walls, before bouncing back to her

ears.

He keeps walking, even seeming to speed up into more of a trot. He unlocks his sedan and reaches for

the door handle. Arden places herself between him and the car, pushing the driver's side door closed

again with her back.

A silent standoff ensues. His eyes stare down into hers, neither breaking the trance. Another minute or

so passes, before he attempts to move her aside. He places a hand on her waist, exerting a gentle

pressure against her weight. She doesn't budge.

He sighs and scratches at the forming stubble along his jawline.

“Arden, please. Get out of my way.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I'm not going to let you do something stupid.”

“She has been using drugs around our kids. Letting that anorexic piece of shit model shoot up in the

same house where our kids sleep.” His voice drops to a darker tone, one that Ardi doesn't recognize.

“Nothing is more stupid than that.”

She takes a breath. “No disagreement here.”

“Then, please . . . move,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears pool on the brims of his eyes, making

them glisten like a moonlit lake.

“No, Elliott.”

Arden places a hand on either side of his face. The tears in his eyes win the battle against the rims of

his eyes. Hot, salty rivers begin to paint his face, marking her hands as well. She uses her thumbs to

wipe away his heated tears.

Arden's mobile begins to ring, making them both flinch. The device announces her brother's name,

then begins playing the Ghostbusters theme song. She lets it ring, ultimately sending her sibling to

voicemail.

She relaxes a bit as she watches the hint of a smile spreading across Eli's lips. He folds his hands

around hers.

“Does he know that's your ringtone for him?”

She shakes her head, and they both ease into a small laugh. As it fades into a shared sigh, Arden

leans up and places her arms around his neck. He pulls her closer, letting his arms settle at her waist.

Arden tilts her head and kisses Elliott. The softness of her lips melds into him, imparting a calm as easy

as a low country breeze. She pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“She's not going to change us, Eli,” she whispers, staring up at him. “Ro and Tea deserve better than

that.”

He nods. She feels his hand tighten into a fist against her back. As he stares off in the direction of the

other parked cars that surround them, she smooths her hands down his shoulders over and over.

After a few seconds, he turns back to her. His eyes have returned to their usual vibrant blue. The

tension in his muscles has relaxed. She breathes. He's back.

He hugs her close, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Then he pulls back and kisses her

forehead. “Let's go.”

Eli taps the lock button on his car's key fob and intertwines his fingers with Arden's. The couple takes

the elevator up to the lobby. They find Adam standing at the concierge desk about to place another call

to his sister.

“You two suddenly forget how to answer your phones?” Adam asks, coming towards them.

“Sorry.” Eli glances at Arden. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Oh God, I know what that means.” Adam makes a face.

“We weren't ...” Arden tries to explain. But Adam puts his hands to his ears and begins humming. She

tries to pull one of his hands away from his head. He resists, accenting his humming with defiant

grunts. “Oh grow up, Adam.”

He shakes his head and starts for the door. “You two are freaks. I'll be in the car.”

She rolls her eyes at her brother's back, as he exits the building. Sometimes, it astounds her that he's

the older child. No wonder her parents tried a second time.

“You sure he's older than you?”

“I'm not even sure we're related. I think he followed my mother home from the grocery store one day.”

“That must be it.” Eli chuckles and takes her hand again. The smile fades from his face, while he plays

with her fingers.

“You okay?” She takes his other hand.

“Yeah.” He nods, staring down at their feet. “Think I might take the kids to see my parents for a little

while this afternoon.”

“Sounds good.” She pushes a thick lock of honeyed curls away from his face. “Then maybe we could

all meet at Dad's place for dinner tonight.”

“Good,” he whispers, still transfixed by the floor.

“Hey, we'll figure this out.” She lifts his head and locks eyes with him. “With your parents and my father

behind us, all of Alabama will burn before Melinda gets anywhere near our children again.”

“I know.” He pulls her in close and kisses the crown of her head. “See you tonight.”

Eli agrees to meet her at the Mitchell estate with the twins and his parents. They share another quick

kiss and whisper I love you, before parting ways. Arden glances over her shoulder, as she makes her

way out to Adam. Elliott waves at her, before stepping onto the elevator. Sighing, she steps through the

lobby's revolving door.

“Everything okay?” Adam opens the car door for her.

“It's fine. Why?”

“Well, you're sporting the I don't give a fuck hair bun. Eli looks like he could spar with Satan right about

now and win.” He smirks at her. “Wanna try lying to me again, Elmer?”

She purses her lips and looks away from him. “I'll tell you in the car.”

Adam helps her into his Porsche Cayenne and jogs around to the driver's side. While he tries his best

to navigate the downtown streets, she relates the night's insanity to him. He listens without much

interruption, throwing in a whispered remark here and there.

“You call the police?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

“I don't want to have their mother arrested.” She stares out the window at the silent structures passing

by in a blur of stone and mortar. “We'll handle this as quietly as possible.”

“Melinda doesn't deserve your discretion.”

“But Ro and Tea do. This arrangement has been hard enough on them. The last thing they need is to

find a TMZ article about their absentee mother's drug abuse.” She chews the inside of her cheek, then

shakes her head. “I will not make them a headline.”

Adam sighs and then brings the car to a stop behind Arden's Audi S7.

“I swear, little sis. You some kind of saint. Any other woman would have taken a razor blade to

Melinda's crazy ass a long time ago.”

“Trust me.” She scoffs. “I've murdered her in my dreams plenty of times.”

He laughs and reaches over her to grab the flashlight and his semi-automatic handgun from the

glovebox. “Stay in the car, killer.”

Arden does as she's told, watching as her brother checks the front and back seats of the sedan. He

starts the vehicle's engine and even goes so far as to survey the trunk as well. Finding no apparent

threats, he signals to her.

She steps down from his car and makes her way over to where he's standing holding open the door of

the sedan for her. Arden gives him a hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

“It's nothing. You know that.”

Adam hangs onto her even tighter and plants a kiss on her cheek as well. Then he takes one more look

in the backseat before he lets her settle into the car.

She watches him get back into the truck in her side-view mirror. She waits for Adam to flash his

headlights, then they both pull away from the curb. They wave to each other at a stoplight, going their

separate ways. Adam heads for his Vestavia Hills home, while Arden makes the short jump to

Homewood.

When Arden reaches the parking lot of SoHo Sugar, the limited space at the back of the building is

deserted. Joe and Nadia are both late ...again. She sighs and parks the car in her designated space in

the far corner of the lot. Instead of going inside to begin her usual hectic day, she sits frozen in her

seat. Her mind has other plans.

She glances at the time illuminated on the center console. It's 4:30 in the morning. Her father is often

up by five every day. Though he's essentially retired, he wakes every morning to greet the sun like he

has a regular nine to five.

The most Warren sees of the inside of an office is the monthly board meeting at the phone company.

He should be out of bed and making his customary cup of coffee in less than thirty minutes. The trip

from the bakery to the Mitchell estate should take about that long, maybe a little less at this time of the

morning.

Exiting the parking lot, she heads for the highway. She takes 65 South toward Montgomery, keeping

careful watch of her speedometer. Forty miles later, she's coasting up the tree-lined drive of her

childhood home.

One of the house managers, Ivana, appears in the doorway of the three-story house. Before Arden can

reach for the handle, Ivana opens the driver's door and extends a hand to her.

Accustomed to her father's routine, the woman is already dressed in one of her smart sweater sets and

starched slacks. Her dark hair is in the same effortless fishtail braid she's been wearing for years, a

style that complements her rounded face.

“What are you doing here so early? ...Is something wrong?” The older woman's brow wrinkles.

Arden assures her everything's okay.

Ivana eyeballs her, cocking her head to one side. She's been with the family since Arden was six years

old. So she can tell when one of the Mitchell children is telling a half-truth.

“I'm fine. Everyone is fine. I promise.” Arden squeezes Ivana's hands. “I just wanted to talk to Daddy.”

“And this couldn't wait until the sun was fully awake?” The strength of her Russian accent lingers in her

speech.

It's most apparent when she's excited or angry. When they were younger, Adam and Arden would often

play pranks on her just so she would yell at them in Russian. Hearing the familiar accent now makes

her smile.

“I guess not.”

“Okay, don't tell me.” Ivana sighs. “Your father's in his study.”

She gives Ivana a quick kiss on the cheek and jogs up the porch steps into the house. She makes her

way to her father's study at the back of the house.

“Hi, tater tot.” A booming voice greets Arden, as she steps into the large oak-paneled room.

Warren Mitchell looks up from his newspaper and beams at his little girl. Grinning just as hard as he is,

she walks over to his desk. He stands and pulls her into a hug. She allows herself to be engulfed by his

competent arms, nestling her head against his chest. He holds onto her, rocking her side to side in an

easy circle.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she says, her voice muffled by his starched button-down shirt.

He holds her at arm's length. “You came to have breakfast with your old man?”

“I need some advice.”

“About Melinda?”

“How did you...?”

“Adam called me.”

“I should have known.”

“Never mind your brother.” Warren leads her over to the quilted leather sofa and sits down with her.

“What's your head telling you to do?”

“Convince Eli to file for sole custody of the kids.”

“And I wouldn't disagree with you if Ro and Tea were younger. But a legal fight with Melinda could last

for years.”

Arden takes a deep breath. “So what do we do?”

“Rowan and Teagan could have themselves emancipated.” Warren continues his point before Arden

has a chance to become alarmed. “That way no one, namely Melinda, has a say in where they choose

to live.”

“That would make them adults in the eyes of the law.” Ardi looks down at her hands. “They wouldn't be

my babies anymore.”

“In another year, they won't be babies either way. Children have to grow up. Doesn't mean we have to

stop being their parents.” He kisses her hair. “Isn't that right, tater tot?”

Arden laughs and rests her head on his shoulder. “Where did you even come up with that nickname?”

“Took one look at you when you were born, and the name just came to me. Ever since then, you've

been my little tater tot.” He scratches his head and smirks. “I wish there was some grand story behind

it. But I'm a simple man, sweetheart.”

“That's good enough for me.” She smiles at him.

The two are silent for a few moments before that gnawing seed of doubt in Arden's gut voices itself

again. “Do you think this whole thing will work?”

“It will. I'll make sure of it.” He gives her shoulder a gentle rub. “Harrison will have the papers drawn up

by the end of business today. Don't worry about it.”

Willing to breathe a little easier for the moment, she lets him change the subject. They spend another

hour or so discussing simpler matters, like her Aunt Hillary's annual gem social.

Arden dreads going every year. But not going would mean snubbing one of the most powerful women

in Birmingham. Not to mention, making things more difficult at home for her Uncle Sebastian. Hillary is

impossible enough without feeling slighted. So Arden will suck it up for the sake of her mother's

brother, and the sake of anyone else who has to deal with that woman.

Besides it also means she'll have a chance to catch up with her cousin, Scott. Since he moved to

Phoenix, life hasn't left them much opportunity to see each other. He's like the younger brother who she

never wished she had. But much like with Adam, she wouldn't trade her cousin for all the diamonds

and pearls in the world.

“Hillary said Scott's bringing his new fiancee, Priscilla.”

“Well God help the poor woman if she's going to have Hillary Nolan for a mother-in-law.” Arden rolls her

eyes and frowns.

Warren nudges her knee, smothering a laugh. “Be nice, Ardi.”

“That was the censored version.”

He shakes his head. “You need to get to work young lady. A bakery doesn't run itself.”

Warren rises and pulls Arden to her feet. They walk arm in arm toward the front of the house. As she's

stepping out the front door, Ardi tells her father she'll see him for dinner. His face seems to light up.

He kisses her forehead. “Drive safe, darling.”

“I will.” She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Bye, Dad.”

Arden drives back down the manicured road, and out of the front gates. She takes advantage of the

car's voice command and requests that it play an old Snoop Dogg track. Turning up the volume, she

hits the interstate doing eighty.

Half an hour later, Arden is pulling up to the bakery. It's almost seven. She's lost some valuable prep

time. But her mood brightens a bit when she spots her employees' vehicles. Joe and Nadia's cars are

in the lot, along with a UPS truck.

Arden greets the gentleman and signs for the delivery. She unlocks the back entrance of the bakery,

propping the door open for the man. As package after package is unloaded from the truck and into her

office, she searches her brain's inventory for any recent business purchases she might have made.

None come to mind.

She gets a look at one of the boxes and notices there isn't a return address on any of them. A few of

them are even gift wrapped in dark navy paper with bows of silver ribbon. By the time the man is done

bringing in boxes, every surface in her office is covered.

One of the smaller boxes catches her eye. The wrapping looks familiar. If she remembers correctly,

Swarovski uses this same packaging. She opens it to find a pair of crystal earrings. A coy smile lights

on her face. It gets wider with every package she opens. Something made of crystal or chocolate rests

in each one.

Almost as giddy as a schoolgirl, she takes a seat at her desk. She reaches for the phone and notices

that there are several messages waiting for her. Arden grabs a pen and notepad, then puts the phone

on speaker.

The first message is from a bride seeking Arden's services for her wedding cake. Already inspired by

the woman's theme and colors, she makes a quick sketch. She jots down the woman's information and

files the drawing, before skipping to the next message.

At first, all she hears on the other end is dead air, and maybe the faint sound of someone breathing.

Then a symphony of baritone sounds and syllables kisses her ears. Arden recognizes the utterance as

her name being whispered by one of the sexiest voices that she's ever heard.

She rises from her chair and backs herself against the wall. It's him. The man who has invaded her

subconscious, making her dreams his playground.

The message ends and the phone announces the time and date received of the next one in the lineup.

Again, nothing but silence. Nothing but him screaming his feelings at her without saying a single word.

Arden puts her hands to her ears. It's too loud. His longing for her is loud enough to drown out the

entire world. She closes her eyes, wishing she had recognized the number and deleted them. All of

them. All fifteen of his messages.

She reaches forward and hangs up the phone. She takes stock of her surroundings again. All of the

pretty packages wink back at her as if they knew all along. These weren't gifts from her sweet and

hardworking husband. No, these were bribes meant to entice something out of her. Plain and simple.

Unable to breathe all of a sudden, she flees her office and runs smack into Joseph. The baking sheets

he was carrying land on the floor between them in a cacophony of metal.

“Woman, where the hell have you been?” Joe's voice accosts Arden as she bends to help him retrieve

the fallen trays. “I have been running this operation by myself for over two hours.” He folds his arms

across his chest. “Now, explains yourself.”

His powers of exaggeration are staggering. If anyone has been “running this operation,” alone, it's

Nadia. Joe might crack an egg every once in a while. But he won't do the time-consuming baking

required to keep this business running. Plus, he has a tendency to call her bitch a lot. So Arden

decides to have some fun.

“Sorry, Joe. But I've been digging my way out your momma's fat rolls all morning.” She smirks at him.

“That ain't no easy task. You know how much that big bitch sweats.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” He narrows his eyes at her, then continues his walk to the prep kitchen.

Ardi follows behind him. “Ain't enough penicillin or tequila on God's green earth.”

“I don't even have the time to turn you out.” Joe pats his coiffed hair with one hand and stacks the

cookie sheets on their designated shelf. Then he gives Arden a quick kiss on each cheek. “Now for

real. Where you been?”

“Went to see my father this morning.” Arden sighs, and rubs her temples.

“I'm sure Warren Mitchell just loves social calls at the crack of dawn.” He folds his arms across his

chest and raises his brow at her.

“Melinda is in town.” Arden lets the words rush out like air escaping a balloon.

“Oh honey, you need a drank.” Joe leads Arden over to a stool and holds it in place for her to take a

seat. “Just hold on. Jojo will fix you right up.”

Arden laughs. “Joe, I haven't even told you what's going on yet.”

“Baby, you don't have to.” He glances at her over his shoulder, while he raids his private stash of liquor

that Arden pretends not to know about. “Papa knows, chile.”

“Then you also know I don't drink.”

“I do.” He nods back at her. “But just saying that bitch's name is enough to make a priest hit the bottle.

Now, here. Drink this.”

He hands Arden a shot of vodka. She refuses to touch it.

“No,” she says, with a firm nod of her head.

“Then I'll get lit enough for us both.” He downs the shot and pours himself another. Once he's properly

hydrated, he pulls up another chair beside Arden. “All right, boo. Spill it.”

Joe crosses his legs towards her and props his elbow on top of them. He rests his head on one hand,

then uses the other to take Arden's hand.

She's silent for a moment, while she considers whether airing her issues at work is the best thing to do.

But Joseph has been with her from the bakery's beginning. He knows things about her that even Eli

doesn't know. Joe is a vault.

Her reservations take a backseat, and she begins relaying the last twenty-four hours. She details

everything from the twins' escape to Melinda's unannounced and disruptive visit.

“And on top of that, her little boyfriend used our bathroom to shoot up.” Arden shakes her head and

sighs. “I don't understand how Eli ever dealt with that woman.”

“Well, you know every man has one.” He smirks. “That one ratchet bitch from his past who makes

everybody question his sanity.”

“Then Melinda is definitely Eli's ratchet bitch.”

“What you gon' do?”

“Right now, I'm going to get started on the coffee cake, and the dough for the croissants.” Arden finds

her apron and slips it over her head. Before heading to the sink to wash her hands, she gives him a

hug. “Thanks for listening to me.”

“I got you, boo.” He shrugs. “Besides, you sign my checks. When the rent is due, I'll listen to you all

night long.”

Arden rolls her eyes and laughs. “Joe, get out my kitchen.”

Joseph disappears from the kitchen to relieve Nadia from her duties at the front of the cafe. She joins

Arden in the heat of the kitchen to perform a small miracle. They open in less than an hour. And there's

still quite a bit to be done. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

But the hour passes, and the two women manage to make their usual breakfast pastries and six

different types of bread. They even get the bakery's desserts and lunch items prepared on time. Arden

is putting the finishing touches on an anniversary cake by the time the lunch hour rolls around.

Nadia bursts through the double doors that divide the kitchen from the dining area holding an empty

tray.

“I think we might be able to take a breath. The rush is starting to thin out.”

“Thank God,” Arden mutters, spinning the revolving cake stand to study her work. “Never thought I'd be

happy to hear business was slowing down.”

“Me either.” Nadia grabs another tray of pecan sticky buns for the display case and heads for the doors

again. “Oh, and Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is back,” she adds with a wink.

Arden groans to herself. Furrowing her brow, she pipes another buttercream rose for the top of the

cake.

“Tell him I'm busy, please.”

“You got it, boss.” Naddy scoots out of the kitchen, leaving Arden to brood.

She's thinking of what she intends to say to Casper when she feels someone's fingers tracing a trail up

her arm. Her breath catches in her throat. The piping bag and the flower nail she's been holding fall

onto the counter in what seems like slow motion.

The intruder puts his lips to her ear, and his hand on her waist. Then he whispers to her. His accent

wraps every word in dark velvet, making each syllable seem special.

“Good morning, love.”

His breath on her neck and the woody scent of his cologne, have her ready to say yes to a lot of things

that she shouldn't even be considering. Refusing to face him, she attempts to calm herself.

“You―.” She clears her throat and tries again. “You can't be here.”

Arden scrambles off her seat. In her haste, she loses her footing. A pair of hands reach out to save her

from taking a nosedive onto the floor. Now cradled in his arms, she's forced to look him in the eyes.

“Careful.” He smiles at her, bringing her body upright once again.

Arden smooths her hands over her clothes. “What are you doing here, Casper?”

“I came to see you.” He reaches for her. But she dodges his touch. He tucks his hands into his pockets

and nods. “Did you get the things I sent over?”

“I did,” she answers, near breathless. “Plus every one of your messages.”

Casper licks his lips. He glances down at his shoes, and then back up at her. “How did you like your

presents?”

“You sent half of the Swarovski fall collection over here.” Arden shakes her head. “That is not okay.”

“You don't like the jewelry?” He takes her hand and kisses it. “I'll return them. Get you whatever you

want.”

An involuntary shudder runs through her. “Casper, do you just refuse to see my point?”

He nods and smiles. “Yes, I do.”

She pulls her hand from his grasp. “You cannot buy me gifts.”

“I can't compliment you. Can't kiss you. Can't be alone with you.” He sighs, leaning against the

stainless steel counter. “I can't kiss you.”

“You said kiss twice,” Arden whispers.

“I know.”

Arden is silent for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating in her chest. “We shouldn't even be

talking about this.”

“Why not?”

“We are both married.” She turns back to her work. Though she's slow in doing so.

“On paper.”

She faces him. “Look, Casper―.”

“Call me Cash,” he says, stroking her cheek.

“Casper,” she continues her eyes stern. “My marriage is very real on paper and off. It won't go away,

because it's inconvenient for you. And you can't just―.”

Catching her hands mid-air, he pulls her into him. He kisses her, causing a charge to surge through her

body. Her mind is screaming to push him away. But her body has no intention of yielding to reason.

When his hands move down her frame, she checks back into reality. Arden breaks their kiss, stumbling

backward like an alcoholic fresh off an all-night binge. Her hand lands in the test batch of buttercream

that she left on the counter.

“This is wrong ... This is so wrong.” Bracing herself against a nearby table, she tries to catch her

breath. “This is so wrong.”

“Yes, it is.”

He walks over to her and takes her hand. Bringing her fingers to his lips, he licks the frosting off them

one at a time. He stakes his claim on her lips again.

“Arden, the―.” Joe bursts into the kitchen. Arden and Casper release their hold on each other. Though

they aren't quick enough. “Oooh, whee!”

“Joseph.” Arden swipes her thumb across her lips, before clearing her throat. “Wh―what is it?”

Joe moves his hand away from his mouth long enough to speak.

“Just something about the POS system. But it can wait.” His eyes take stock of all six feet, three inches

of Casper with unabashed interest. “More importantly, who this?”

She runs her hands down the length of her skirt and answers the question without making direct eye

contact with him. “Joe, this is Casper. Casper . . . meet Joe.”

“It's a pleasure, Joseph.” He extends his hand, which Joe accepts with a lecherous smirk.

“I'm sure you are, handsome.”

Arden hides her face in her hands, screaming on the inside. Her cheeks are on fire.

“Casper was just leaving.” She glances at him. “Weren't you, Casper?”

“Right. I should get back to work.” Casper adjusts his suit. Then he leans down and kisses Arden's

cheek. “I'll um . . . call you later.”

She just nods, too stunned to do anything else. Casper says goodbye to Joseph, and gives her one last

glance, before stepping through the double doors of the kitchen.

The second that the door swings shut again, Joe is on Arden. “Who the hell is Casper? And how long

has he been ringing your bell?”

She ignores his late 70's disco reference, and his questions, going to find herself a drink of water. He

follows her around the kitchen, demanding answers. After Arden has done enough quick-stepping to

qualify for a ballroom dance championship, she offers him an explanation.

“He hasn't been ringing anything. We're just friends.”

“Oh, okay.” Joe nods, narrowing his eyes at her. “So you kiss all your friends like that?”

She doesn't look up at him. Instead, she surveys the cake she'd been working on before Casper

interrupted her. She makes a few touch-ups, while he stares at her. He starts humming Biz Markie's

Just a Friend.

Putting down the piping bag, she shakes her head. “It is not like that.”

“Then honey, how the hell is it?” He grabs a box for the cake and passes it to her. “Because he looked

ready to put it on you good and right all night.”

“And I wanted to let him.” She takes a seat at the counter and hangs her head. “I don't know. I have no

idea what I'm doing with him.”

“Well hopefully, you'll get a little oil change and a tire rotation out of him twice a week.” Joe straightens

up, glancing at Arden out of the corner of his eye. “Hell, if you don't, I will.”

“You're not helping, Joseph.”

“Help?” He scoffs. “When did I ever give you the impression that I was the black Dr. Phil?”

Arden rolls her eyes at him and rubs her temples. “I can't believe I let him kiss me.”

“Let me stop that delusion right there.” Joe removes her hands from her head and makes her look at

him. “The woman I saw looked like she was enjoying herself. So you kissed him, too.”

She shrugs. There was nothing not to love about that kiss.

“Eli is busier than a horn in rush hour traffic these days. And I know, when you leave here most nights

that you're home alone.” He gives her hands a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes when your man isn't

around to do the necessary repairs, you got to find an outside contractor to get the job done.”

Arden takes a second to consider Joseph's almost comical analogies. A little companionship would be

nice. And sometimes a woman just needs to be touched by a pair of hands that doesn't belong to her. If

Casper's interested in the position, what harm could there be in just getting to know him better?

“Get to know him better.” She scoffs, murmuring to herself. “Please, Arden. That isn't all you want to do

with him.”

Nadia comes looking for the order she just completed. Her soap opera love life can wait until after

business hours. Ardi hands the cake box to the young woman, and the three of them head back to the

front of the cafe.

While Joe and Naddy decide on a new nickname for Casper, Arden busies herself with getting the

bakery's point-of-sale system back online. When they decide on the nickname, Mr. Goodbar, she

smiles in agreement.

“He's smooth chocolate. And he probably has plenty of nuts to go with it,” Joe says, getting a high five

from Nadia.

Arden shakes her head and goes back to her office. She's trying to decide what to do with all of the

merchandise that Casper had shipped over here when Nadia knocks on her half-open door.

“Arden, there are two officers out front who want to speak with you.” Nadia's voice cracks as she's

relaying the message. The lines forming on her forehead make Arden's pulse speed up a bit.

“What about?”

Nadia shrugs. “They didn't say.”

She nods. “Be there in a minute.”

Her baking assistant leaves the doorway of her office, and Arden begins running down a list of horrific

scenarios. Something could have happened to Elliott or the kids, or her father, or Adam. She takes a

deep breath.

“Maybe it's nothing. Calm down, Arden.”

She turns off everything in the office and grabs her handbag, before locking up the room. Then she

walks briskly to the front of the bakery.

Two uniformed police officers greet her, as she emerges from the kitchen. “Arden Stone?”

“Yes. What's this about?” she asks, trying to keep her tone even.

“Turn around and place your hands behind your back, please ma'am.” One of the officers approaches

her, producing a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt.

“Excuse me?” A short laugh escapes her.

“You're under arrest for the possession of an illegal substance and child endangerment.” The other

officer takes her handbag and begins to read her rights, while the first cuffs her.

“Wait a minute!” Joseph tries to step between her and the officers. “Ya'll can't just take her. This is

some bullshit!”

“Sir, back off. Or we'll be forced to detain you as well.” The one holding Arden's bag presses towards

Joe with a fierce gleam in his eye.

“Try it then, big boy,” Joseph says, starting a heated back and forth with the officer.

“Joseph, stop.” Joe ignores Arden and continues to argue with the boys in blue. “Joe!” He looks at her.

She continues in a harsh whisper. “You're a black man in Alabama, arguing with two white officers. Just

stop talking.”

The one who cuffed her must have heard what she said because he yanks her arm. Which doesn't

serve to help his case, if he was offended by her statement. One thing her dad always told her, if you

find yourself on the wrong side of the law, just shut up and don't resist.

“Let's go.” The officer urges Arden toward the door. He pushes her past the handful of customers who

have been standing with their mouths hanging open during this whole ordeal.

“Joe, call my father.” Ardi speaks to Joseph over her shoulder.

“I'm calling him right now.” Joe pulls out his phone, as Arden is placed in the back of the officers'

cruiser. He taps on the window of the vehicle and flashes the Black Panther sign at her. “Stay strong,

boo. Fight the power.”

If she weren't trying to remain stoic at the moment, she would laugh out loud at Joseph. That man

doesn't have a lick of damn sense. If this had to happen today, she's glad he's here. Her nerves relax a

bit more when she hears him rattling off the details to her father.

The officers settle into the front of the vehicle and pull away from the building. Arden cranes her neck to

look back at Joseph standing on the curb outside of SoHo Sugar until it becomes too uncomfortable for

her.

She turns around and finds a spot to focus on in the back of the passenger seat. She picks a place

where the seat's leather is starting to fray and tries to block out her surroundings.

“What's a pretty thing like you doing using drugs?” The one driving stares at her in the rearview mirror.

Arden doesn't respond. Though the feeling of his eyes on her is bringing to mind plenty of smart-ass

remarks. She turns her head and stares at the houses and trees passing by her window.

The officer sucks his teeth and directs his attention to his partner. They amuse themselves by

discussing how she's one of the most attractive junkies they ever arrested.

She lets them have their fun without any complaint from her. They won't be wearing those badges for

much longer.

Besides, she has more pressing matters to consider. Like which knife to use when she murders

Melinda.