Sweet Seduction by Daire St. Denis Page B

circular motion in Daisy’s direction. “It’s all red and blotchy. You’ve been crying.”
    Daisy put her hands to her cheeks. Once again, her mother had managed to make her feel ugly and insecure—just like that. This was pointless. “I don’t know why I bother.” She pushed herself to her feet.
    Her mother’s deep inhalation was audible. “Sit down. Tell me what’s going on.”
    Although it went against her better judgment, Daisy sat back down, because she really had no idea where else to turn. She slowly began to relay the sorry state of her divorce, finishing with, “I’m going to lose the bakery and I don’t know what to do.”
    After listening without interrupting, Cynthia said, “You should let Alexander take a look. He’s really good at this kind of thing—he should be able to advise you.”
    For the first time all day, Daisy felt a modicum of relief. Could it be that she’d made the right decision to come here and ask her mother for help? She hurried back out to the car to retrieve her file folder. By the time she got back inside, Cynthia had briefed Alex about what was going on. He took the file and sat down at the kitchen table, going through each document in great detail. In the meantime, her mother removed a million kinds of fruits and vegetables from the refrigerator and proceeded to throw them all into a blender, creating a disgusting-looking pea-green concoction. She poured two large glasses and passed one to Daisy.
    It tasted marginally better than it looked. Marginally.
    â€œI know,” Cynthia said. “It’s not Nana’s strudel, but it’s good for you.”
    Daisy made a face and took another tiny sip. “So, what’s the book about, anyway?”
    Cynthia took a long drink, almost emptying her glass. “It’s a guidebook.”
    â€œWhat kind of guidebook?”
    â€œA guide to bad relationships and how to avoid them.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Tilting her head, Cynthia said, “If you consider the men I’ve dated, from your father until...now, I am sort of an expert in the field of disastrous relationships.” She glanced over to Alex poring over the documents, a soft smile lighting her features. “Anyway,” she said, “I pitched the idea to a publisher friend of Alexander’s and he liked it enough to offer me a deal. They even gave me an advance.”
    â€œWow,” Daisy said before hazarding still another sip. “That’s great. Really great.”
    She asked her mother a few more questions about the project, and something strange happened. Her mother came alive in a way Daisy had never seen before, talking animatedly, using her hands, pacing, laughing. Making fun of herself.
    Who was this woman? She was the polar opposite of the self-important, reserved person Daisy had grown up with.
    â€œDaisy?” Alex said, gathering the papers together and placing them carefully back into the folder. “Have a seat.”
    Shit. She did not like the sound of his voice. Her stomach heaved, threatening to expel the horrid green drink as she slowly made her way to the table.
    Once seated, Alex reached over and took her hand. “You should have come to us sooner.”
    Shit, shit, shit.
    Swallowing was suddenly impossible.
    â€œYou don’t have a lot of choices. Your grandmother left the bakery to you, but the law is clear. Property gained while married becomes part of the estate, and Alan is entitled to half of the estate.” He tapped the file. “In fact, because he worked there for a number of years, you owe him a portion of the profit. You should have been paying him, but you haven’t. Why?”
    â€œThere’s no money. It’s all gone to lawyers, bills and repairs. I had to redo the plumbing. We’ve been having problems with the electrical. I had to buy new stoves because there was a power surge a while back. At the end