Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brothers: The Complete Series by Sylvia Banks Page A

goodbye to my friends at work but
I guess not. All was not lost. I had their phone numbers. Going off like this
so sudden was an easy explanation. I’d tell them I had to go back to Boston and
take over the bakery and needed all the time I could get.
    “Thank you, Ellis.”
    My walk out was uneventful but
I turned back and looked at the top floor when I got outside the building. Even
as harsh as Warren could be, I’d miss him. But a new era for me began and it
was no time to think about men. Even if they were a perfect
manly specimen. Looked like the mystery of Warren wouldn’t be revealed
by me.

Chapter 13

 
    “Fabulous Fancies, how can I
help you?” My assistant, Wanda, said through the phone. I always had her answer
in case mom tried to call the bakery. Wanda knew that if mom asked for me it
was always, sorry she’s with a customer
right now. That stopped the useless chatter, but that meant mom came by the
store in person. She’d learned the rush hour times and sometimes helped, but
mostly she was a distraction. Which is why Wanda was my mother interceptor.
    The three months that Phil
worked with me went by fast. He was able to fade out and retire without any problems.
I couldn’t have gotten through the exchange of ownership without him though.
    Wanda scratched on an order
form and continued with the call. “Okay, your name? Okay, we’ll be sure to
deliver. Thanks Warren.”
    My heart stopped. Damn. Even
since the time I walked out my job at BankTrost I
couldn’t stop thinking about Warren. He was an ever presence in my mind and a
pinch in my heart throbbed whenever I heard the name.
    Of course the Warren that Wanda
took an order from was not my Warren. It was some other guy. Warren was in
Illinois and I was in Boston. It’d been six months now and I still couldn’t
forget the intense green eyes, his firm mouth or the expression of abandon the
last time I saw him.
    I pulled out a batch of dough
from the freezer to thaw and dumped ingredients for its replacement in a mixer.
The lunch rush would come in an hour and I had to be ready for the next batch.
Everything was going smoothly, then mother walked in.
    She ran to the counter, frantic
like she was on fire. “ Fabiola , are you moving?”
    I gave my mom a double-take . “What? Where did you hear that?”
    My old Jewish mother raised her
hand to point her finger of guilt in my direction. Great. A
tirade before lunch. “My sista’s brother-in-law said you wanted to go back to Illinois.”
    I shook my head and twisted my
torso so I could mead dough and talk. “Mom, first off, he’s your brother-in-law
too.”
    She waved her hand as if to
evade her brother-in-law’s existence. Mom was always picky about those who
married into the family. I wondered what she’d think of Warren.
    “Second, what if I do want to
go back to Illinois?” The words spilled out of my mouth. Sometimes my crazy
surprised even me. Truth was , I’d never said I wanted
to go back to Illinois it was just my mother getting her story twisted by the
family telephone game. With my family, I could see how my conversation with my
uncle-in-law about when I moved to
Illinois could be construed as I was
going back to Illinois.
    My mother’s lower lip quivered.
“Is it for a man?”
    “What makes you think that?”
Crap. My voice was too high and too fast.
    Mother gave me the squinty eye.
She was on to me. “I want to meet him.”
    “Never mind that.” I handed
mother a chocolate muffin. Hopefully that would distract her for now. Or at
least stuff her mouth so she couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to talk about Warren.
Ever since I left he circled my mind. It was no good. He was in another state
and I had my dream here.
    Mother took the muffin and
sniffed it as if my freshly made, warm baked good had been out for days.
    “Just eat it.” I said.
    She took a bite and her face
brightened. I loved seeing that expression on people’s faces. Every day I made
the muffins and every day she