A shadow came over her and she knew Roan was behind her and waiting for Sophie’s decision.
For a split second she was torn. It would feel great to put her nose in the air and tell Carter she didn’t need help or anything else from him. She liked the vision of Roan tossing Carter out. On the other hand, there were now so many people in line they were weaving about the tables.
“Soup!” she said, then went back to the sandwich.
She never would have believed it but Carter was excellent help. After just thirty minutes they had established a very efficient assembly line. Sophie took the orders and filled paper bowls and cups with the soup. Carter made the sandwiches and passed them over the counter. Roan took cash and credit cards.
For all that Carter was fast and efficient—which greatly surprised Sophie—he still had that Treeborne arrogance. When some out of towner started giving him orders of no mayo, no onions, double pickles, Carter said, “Do I look like your mother?”
There was something about Carter that made the man back down. Sophie’s eyes were wide, as she’d been trained that the customer was always right. She looked at Roan, but he nodded in agreement. He liked Carter’s attitude.
The soup ran out by one and at the rate the bread was going it might not last to closing time at two.
Carter yelled, “We’re having a twelve-percent-off sale on open-faced sandwiches. Fewer carbs.” Nearly everyone took him up on the offer. Only Roan grumbled at having to figure out the 12 percent discount.
At one-thirty Reede came in, and by then most of the customers were gone.
“Hungry?” Sophie asked, her voice full of the memory of last night.
“For everything,” Reede said softly.
“This is a family restaurant,” Roan said, “so you two cut it out.”
Smiling, Reede leaned back and looked at the chalkboard. “I’ll have a—”
“The only thing we have left is ham and cheese. No soup. Sorry,” Sophie said.
“I’ll take whatever you have.” He noticed the man behind the counter and leaned across. “Hi, I’m—” Reede broke off when he saw Carter. He’d seen many photos of him on the Internet and he recognized the Treeborne heir, a man who stood to inherit millions from his family’s frozen food empire. The stories about him had all been good, but Reede had held Sophie while she cried, so he had a different opinion.
Carter had heard Reede’s flirty tone with Sophie but he was used to that. In his hometown all the males had acted that way toward her. He stepped around the counter and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Carter Tree—”
He didn’t finish because Reede hit him with a right cross smack in his face.
Blood spurted from his nose and Carter went down, hitting
the floor hard.
Like some predatory beast, Reede stood over him. “Get out of here,” he said. “Get out and don’t come back. Do you hear me?”
Sophie, still behind the counter, was stunned. She’d seen no evidence of violence in Reede and hadn’t expected this. She had to admit that part of her liked—no, loved—that Reede had hit Carter. She’d certainly wanted to do that to him.
But the larger part of her was civilized.
“No,” she said softly, then louder, “No!” She put herself between the two men, Carter still on the floor, blood pouring from his nose. As for Reede, his fists were clenched, ready to do more hitting. He was a great deal bigger than Carter, and right now he looked like some knight of old.
She put her hands on Reede’s arms. “He helped me today and you have to look at his nose.”
“Out!” Roan yelled to the remaining customers, who were staring with great interest.
“But my—” one man began.
“Come tomorrow and you’ll get a free soup,” Roan said as he cleared the place, locked the door, and turned back to the others.
Reede was still standing over Carter, his fists clenched, and the smaller man was on the floor, looking as though he didn’t dare get up.
Roan got his phone out of his pocket and sent a text message to Reede’s office that his medical bag was needed. SOMETHING FOR A BLOODY NOSE, he wrote.
“Reede,” Sophie said and looked at him half in pleading and half in command.