After a long workday, the evening crowd died down and I prepared to close the store. Lexi had gone home early to do some research on coffee shops, and I knew why. She’d always dreamed about buying the empty space next door and knocking out the wall to join two shops. That was a lot to take on, but the potential was there. The only downside was the noisy kids in the candy store would disturb the adults next door who were trying to read and enjoy their espresso.
One alternative would be to change the coffee shop idea into a pastry shop. Moms could relax with a croissant while their kids scoped out the candy next door. Lexi liked that idea and wanted to talk to Austin about it. She was a crazy-good baker, and if she were involved in baking the sweets, then we’d be a surefire hit. After eating eleven of her homemade peanut butter cookies with macadamia nuts, I could testify on her behalf in a court of cookie law. I didn’t know how she’d swing that kind of money to start up a separate company, but she’d mentioned a couple of Austin’s brothers might be able to help out for free.
God, no.
I could only imagine that tattooed guy scaring the kids. Then again, his twin might actually draw in some of the women because every mother on a bad day wants to feel like she’s still got it going on, and Ben sure liked to let women know how sweet their asses were.
“Are you open?”
A nice-looking Hispanic man poked his head through the front door and I realized I had forgotten to flip the sign.
“I’m about to lock up. Is there something I can help you find real quick?”
He slipped in through the crack and the bell jingled. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” I looked him over, trying not to be judgmental about the fact he was wearing saggy pants and I could see his red underwear. I had serious objections to men who showed off their drawers in public.
He scoped out the room. “I’m looking for something ah… vanilla.”
“We have taffy and wafers over here,” I suggested, leading him to an aisle on the right. I thought about offering the almond bark since a local lady worked with us to sell her candy, but I didn’t think that’s what he was looking for.
“That all you got in here that’s vanilla?” he said, coming up behind me.
I spun around with a wafer in one hand and taffy in the other. “I’m sorry, but it is. We don’t get that request too often. We do carry products that have vanilla flavoring in them, but they’re diluted with other ingredients so it’s not as strong. Is this for a special occasion? I might be able to look in our catalog and order it.”
Up close, I noticed a teardrop tattoo on his brown face and a scorpion on his thick neck. He smiled with closed lips and grabbed each piece without removing his dark eyes from mine. I backed up against a shelf but didn’t want to appear rude by weaving away from him. He placed the wafer in his mouth first and swallowed it after two bites.
“I’m Sanchez.”
That’s when I heard my inner voice screaming to get out. The main lights were off, leaving only the accent lights on near the windows and the sign behind the register. I was alone in the store with a guy hitting on me.
Not just that, but doing it in a creepy, roundabout way. I noticed a bandage on his arm and backed up a step.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanchez. Let me grab something else I think you’ll—”
“No,” he said decidedly, wedging in front of the small space I was trying to squeeze through. I had the wall to my back and nowhere to go. “You look pretty vanilla to me. How do you taste?”
Something knocked off the shelf and rolled across the floor. My heart sped up when his tongue swept across his bottom lip. By the glittery expression in his eyes, he liked seeing me nervous.
“I’m sorry, you need to leave. I have to lock up the store,” I said in a firm voice.
“What if I want you to open up?” he said suggestively.
Sanchez had rock-solid arms that looked eager to crush me in his grasp. He chuckled while chewing on the taffy. “I work for Delgado.”
I blinked in surprise at the familiar name and cleared my throat. “I paid him.”
Delgado was a loan shark my grandma had owed money to. We’d only met once because he’d wanted his payments in cash, so he always sent a guy to collect. I’d squared away the debt to him, though.
“Mmm, true.” Sanchez pinched the tuft of hair below his bottom lip. “Delgado wants the interest. All you paid was what was borrowed.”
My brows slanted in an angry line. “He didn’t tell me that! All he said was that I owed him three thousand and that’s what I paid.”
Sanchez’s eyes roamed down my shirt and he stared at the lettering that said Sweet Treats, written across my C-cup breasts.
“How much is the interest?”
I was relieved when he lifted his hand and held his fingers in the shape of a zero. Until he took his other hand and poked a finger in and out of the hole. “Pay me what I want and I’ll buy you some time.”
Guys like Sanchez thrived on intimidation. I grew impatient and narrowed my eyes. “I don’t care what you want; what does Delgado want?”
A smile crossed his face and a silver-capped molar gleamed back at me. “Been a few years. Interest builds up. Now you owe more than you paid.”