Page 130 of Sugar & Shadows

“I appreciate it.” With the bag of food tucked under one arm, I grasped Sabrina’s elbow and steered her toward the exit and away from the crowd of people staring.

“I’ll drive you home,” I said as we descended the wide stairs of the front porch.

“You will do no such thing.” She yanked free of my hold and stomped over to her G-Wagon. With the driver’s door open, she tossed her bag onto the passenger seat. Then she turned slowly. “I know exactly what Ethan is doing,” she muttered. “I had a plan, a strategy. I was getting all kinds of good intel out of him.” I swore she could conjure flames and burn me to ash with the look she wore. “And then you had to bust in there like Captain America on a bender and fuck it all up.”

Dread washed over me. “He’s not a good guy,” I said weakly.

“I know that. Ethan Calloway is a polished, ambitious, condescending asshole who assumes he’s the smartest person in the room. Which makes him my favorite kind of mark.” She slammed her door and stalked over to me. “He views every relationship as transactional and other human beings as assets. He’s a walking red flag. But one I know how to exploit.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it. Well, shit.

“I worked in Washington for a decade, Gabe. I can spot a corporate predator from across a ballroom filled with lobbyists and their second wives.”

She whipped around, threw the door open again, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Head lowered, I rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side.

She didn’t start the car or even look at me.

“Men like Ethan always tell on themselves,” she explained, her focus fixed straight ahead. “Did you know that he is one of the main backers of your recall campaign?”

The blood drained from my face. Fuck, I had no idea. And why did he care if I was the mayor?

“And that Sugar Moon took on investors after the scandal last year, the biggest one being AgriNova, which manufactures BGX-9 the very substance that keeps resurfacing like a persistent zit?”

BGX-9 had come up during our meetings in Montpelier. More than one farmer had mentioned it too, including Josh. He’d complained about the persistent sales reps, and months ago, he’d hinted that Sugar Moon was behind on payments.

It was all connected.

“I was this close”—she held up her thumb and forefinger—“to getting him to admit that he was backing Birch Hollow, but then my unhinged baby daddy showed up and crashed the meeting.”

All the anger and adrenaline that had built up inside me as I’d stormed over here seeped out, my body deflating like a sad balloon. Of course Sabrina was on top of this. Of course she’d been working an angle.

And damn, Ethan was even more evil than I’d thought.

“I’m sorry.” I roughed a hand through my hair and squeezed my eyes shut.

She was always ten steps ahead of me, and I’d just had a very public emotional meltdown that would be the talk of the town for weeks.

God, I was such an idiot.

“So just admit you were jealous, and I’ll share this yummy-smelling food with you.”

“I was not.”

“You stormed into a candlelit restaurant like it was a military extraction.” Her lips curled in a smirk, the earlier anger seeming to have dissipated.

“I think you liked it,” I teased, my nerves settling a little.

She laughed, shaking her head. “You know, you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

I shifted in my seat and zeroed in on her. “Pretty?”

She rolled her eyes.

A laugh rumbled out of me. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t make it weird.” She swatted at me.