“It was anonymous. These things usually are, and they’re usually a bunch of nonsense, but I still need to check. It’s standard city protocol.”
“Okay. Do you want to come today?”
“Tomorrow is fine. How about 2:00 p.m.? I’ll also have to see your work schedules to know how many employees are present at any given time.”
“Whatever you need.”
Sarah got off and tried keep the frustration from showing on her face.
“Is there a problem?” Rosemary asked worriedly.
“No, the city just does inspections now and then.”
“I heard you mention a complaint. Who would complain? Everybody is so happy here.”
Sarah shrugged. “Stephen doesn’t know—it was anonymous. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
On reflection, an anonymous complaint didn’t sound like Tyler Prentiss. Of course, she couldn’t think of anyone else it could be, either, though the memory of the silent calls she’d been having popped into her mind.
Don’t be paranoid, Sarah ordered. It was unlikely the two problems were connected.
“I heard Tyler dropped by this morning,” Rosemary said, still looking upset.
“Yes, he apologized.”
Rosemary brightened. “I’m glad to hear that. He means well, but he’s protective. The truth is, I was a complete mess after Richard died. I’d let my husband handle all our personal affairs and wasn’t the least prepared when...” She swallowed. “Richard died of a massive stroke. He was older than me and should have retired years ago, but nothing could make him slow down.”
“It must have been a shock.”
“He simply wouldn’t take care of himself. But I shouldn’t keep you—you have enough to do.”
Sarah smiled. She didn’t mind the moments that she and Rosemary got to talking. Thanks to the older woman’s ability to manage the business end of the sweet shop, she was getting more time to do what she loved most.
“Actually, I’m going to finish my blackberry tarts, then go home and take a nap,” she explained. “I’ll come back later to make fudge.” Her candy chef had asked for an extra day off this week, and she didn’t want to run low.
In the kitchen, Sarah found someone else had finished the tarts, so she gratefully left. At the house, she set the alarm and unplugged her landline before lying down. Theo delightedly jumped up with her and settled down, purring.
“Hey, baby.”
It was crazy to feel edgy, even though she knew it was unlikely that anything weird was going on, but it still took time to drop off. The question kept revolving in her head—who could have complained? She easily met the county’s guidelines for commercial kitchens.
Finally she began counting black cats in her head. Happy, playful black cats, and with Theo leaning against her shoulder, she drifted to sleep.
* * *
ROSEMARY WAS DISAPPOINTED she didn’t find Nathan in the garden when she got home. She’d brought him a sandwich and salad at lunchtime, but he’d said Tyler was getting pizza so the food had gone into the refrigerator.
Nathan wasn’t in the living room or his bedroom.
“Is that you, Mom?” called Tyler.
“Yes.” She hurried out from Nathan’s room. “Where is your brother?”
“Didn’t he tell you? Mr. Fullerton took him to see the Poppy Gold greenhouses. I think they’re spending the afternoon together.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Flustered, Rosemary put the kettle on for tea. “I heard you apologized to Sarah,” she said finally.
“I asked her to lunch, but she didn’t have time.”
“She’s always busy. Tomorrow will be especially hectic since she, um, got a call this afternoon from the city.”
A thought had been nagging her...that Tyler might have made the complaint. It was dreadful to think he could do something like that, but she also knew he was unhappy about her job.
“Apparently someone made an anonymous complaint,” she continued. “It’s terrible that Sarah has to take time to deal with something like this. I can’t imagine her violating any rules.”
“Then the inspection shouldn’t be a problem.” Tyler’s expression didn’t reveal much. You’d think as his mother she’d be able to read more in his face, but it was no easier now than when he’d been a child. So unless she asked outright, she wasn’t going to discover whether he was responsible. Surely not, though.
“What else did Sarah say?” Tyler prompted, breaking into her thoughts.
“Nothing. I’m just concerned about her.”
“She isn’t your daughter.”
“I realize that,” Rosemary returned sharply, though she knew her son wasn’t trying to be cruel. He didn’t know about his sister. Richard had insisted they never talk about Kittie, and since they’d moved to the DC area after her death, their new social circle hadn’t known about her, either.
Would it upset Tyler and Nathan to learn that an important part of their family history had never been discussed, or would it help them understand their father a little better?
* * *
TYLER SUSPECTED HIS MOTHER wondered if he’d made the call, but the idea was offensive. It would have been purely to harass Sarah, and he’d never do that.
“The complaint must be a misunderstanding,” he said.
“Of course. But it will take time to resolve, and Sarah already works appalling hours. Even worse than you, I think.”
He didn’t think his work hours were appalling, certainly no longer than his father’s. Richard had rarely been at home when his sons were awake. Tyler hadn’t faulted his dad for being a dedicated lawyer, but why have kids if he didn’t like them? Just to have someone carry on the family name and follow in his footsteps?
Tyler didn’t feel the need for children, and since his work took him all over the world, it wouldn’t be fair to a family for him to be gone weeks or months at a stretch.
Frankly, he didn’t intend to change.
He liked going full tilt. He wanted to leave his mark on the world by designing memorable buildings, not by passing on his genes.
“I’m sure Sarah will manage,” Tyler said. “Besides, how long could it take? She doesn’t need to go around with the inspector, just talk with him afterward.”
His mother simply shook her head and walked upstairs.
Outside, Tyler saw his brother return with Kurt Fullerton and sit on the garden chairs, talking. It still amazed Tyler that Sarah was Kurt’s daughter. While she had his green eyes, she was delicate and slim, with none of his square solidity.
Tyler stepped onto the porch, only to decide against joining the other two men. Instead he went for a walk around Poppy Gold. While he wasn’t a huge fan of Victorian architecture, the place projected an air of gracious elegance. An hour later, he returned to the suite and found his mother talking to a man on the porch.
“I’m so sorry,” she was saying, visibly distressed. “Maybe they can put it on my account here at Poppy Gold.”
“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.
“I ordered food, but can’t find my purse.”
“No problem.” He took out his wallet and turned to the