But instead of simply waiting for them to go under, Eliot had asked Steve to set up a meeting with Mae Anne Mayfield. He planned to make an even more generous offer to buy the small operation and absorb their unique line of products and services into Fulton Foods. He would even offer positions within Fulton’s corporate hierarchy to Mayfield and her staff for three distinct reasons.
The first and most obvious was that he could not afford to wait. The second reason was that what he’d seen of the Mayfield product was exceptional. If he could get the recipes and find more practical ingredients to produce pastries with the same taste and texture at a lower cost, the revenue potential would be unlimited.
Finally, Eliot would sell his soul to prevent future visits from his uncle, like the one he’d just received. Even after twenty years, seeing his uncle approach him with the look on his face could still send a shiver of terror up Eliot’s spine.
He had to remind himself that he was not that same terrified ten-year-old boy. He was a man now, more than his uncle match in both size and strength. But the habits of a lifetime were hard to break.
For those reasons, he would make every attempt to absorb Mayfield Bakery, rather than destroy it. One way or another, through cooperation or brute force, Mayfield would yield to the greater strength of the largest baked-goods supplier in the Memphis area and learn what their predecessors already had: that Fulton Foods had an in-house enforcer willing to do pretty much anything to win.
Chapter 2
Meanwhile in Selmer, TN
“Sophie! Look ou—”
“Whoa! Whoa—ouuwwee!”
The loud crashing sound reverberated through the building and brought people running from every direction.
“What happened?” Lonnie, Sophie Mayfield’s cousin, was the first to arrive. “Sophie, did you fall?”
Sophie bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at the younger woman as she stated the obvious. She knew Lonnie couldn’t help her simplistic thinking. But with her leg throbbing painfully, Sophie was finding it hard to be sympathetic.
Wayne was immediately at her side, struggling to help her to her feet. “Sorry, I tried to warn you.”
Trying to stand on her left leg proved impossible, as the sharp shooting pain raced up her spine. “Ouch-oww.” She shook her head frantically. In too much pain for words, she tried to signal to Wayne that standing was not an option.
Apparently he understood, because he gently lowered her back to the floor. “That bad, huh?” His big brown eyes were filled with concern.
“What happened?” Mae pushed her way through the small group to find Sophie bracing herself against the walk-in refrigerator.
She gestured over her shoulder “I fell off that stupid step stool.”
Mae pushed her flour-covered apron aside and knelt beside her granddaughter. “Let me see.” As soon as she touched the injured leg Sophie howled in pain.
“Dante, call for an ambulance,” Mae called to the last person who’d joined the group.
With a quick nod, the slender teen loped off to make the call.
“I’m sure it’s just a sprain. Give me a minute. I’ll be fine.” Sophie smiled up at the huddle of worried faces. “Really.”
To prove her point, she attempted to stand again, but the pain returned with three times the intensity, and a muttered curse slipped from her lips.
“Just sit your ass down,” Wayne muttered in his gruff way. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He crossed the room to examine the step stool.
“I told you we should’ve got rid of that thing a long time ago,” Mae said, shaking her head, her eyes focused on the rapidly swelling leg.
“You want some water or something?” Lonnie asked, wringing her hands in distress.
Sophie did not like the looks of that hand-ringing. “Lonnie, look at me.” She used her stern voice to gain the girl’s full attention. “I’m fine. Understand? I’m fine.”
Lonnie nodded, but her eyes were still filling with tears.
Just then, much to Sophie’s relief, Dante returned. “Paramedics are on the way.”
“Dante, can you take Lonnie out front with you to wait on the paramedics?” Sophie jerked her head in the direction of the front door. Dante frowned down at her for a second, before understanding hit.
“Oh, right, right.” He took the girl’s hand. “Come on, Lon, let’s go look for the ambulance.”
“But, what if Sophie needs something?”
“I’m fine, Lonnie. Go with Dante.” Sophie forced her most confident smile despite the pain coursing through her leg, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the two left the room together. The last thing she needed right now was a Lonnie meltdown.
Wayne grunted behind her. After five years of working together, Sophie recognized the sound. “What did you find?”
“The bottom bolt came out. Damn thing’s rusted.” Wayne gathered up the pieces. “I’ll take it out back and dump it.”
Mae watched him leave and shook her head once more. “Told you we should’ve got rid of that thing.”
“I know, Grandma, I know.” Sophie shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but nothing worked to lessen the pain.
“What were you doing up there, anyway?”
“Trying to reach those boxes.” She pointed over her head. “Have Wayne get them down while I’m gone. We have to get that order for Centerfield Academy ready by Tuesday.”
Seeing her grandmother’s distant expression, Sophie frowned in worry. There was so much to do, and only Sophie knew that Mae Anne was no longer up to the task of running a busy bakery. A fact she’d tried hard to keep from the rest of the family.
She knew Wayne could easily manage the day-to-day stuff, but she needed to be there to help with the new clients. And then there was the new baker she’d hired.
The baker no one but she knew about. The baker they could not really afford but needed desperately. Sophie had thought it best not to say anything to the others until he arrived. Mae would not take well to being edged out of what she considered her kitchen. And she knew Wayne, Lonnie and Dante would probably be less than eager to accept an outsider, especially given his sophisticated background. Sophie knew she would probably have to referee for a while. Which was why she needed to be at the top of her game over the next few days, not hobbling around with a bum ankle.
What a lousy time for this to happen. “Grandma?”
Mae blinked rapidly, as if startled. “Yes, I heard you. Have Wayne get the boxes down.”
Sophie nodded, satisfied that the task would be completed.
Mae’s wrinkled face took on a troubled expression. “What if it’s more than a sprained ankle?”
“It’s not. I’ll go to the emergency room, get a bandage and some painkillers, and be back here by nightfall.” She reached out and touched the older woman’s arm. “Don’t worry.”
Mae nodded in agreement, but it did nothing to allay the concern in her eyes. Just then Wayne walked back in from the alley.
“Wayne, I need you to get the Centerfield order ready to go.” Sophie looked up at him, grateful to have such a competent assistant.
“No problem,” Wayne answered, watching as the paramedics maneuvered the stretcher through the narrow