turn back now.
As much as he hated to admit it, Carl was right. If he ever intended to run Fulton one day, he would have to learn to do things that at the time might seem unpalatable. As the old expression went, You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
After careful consideration, he made his decision. Eliot picked up the phone and called the agency.
After a few minutes of conversation with Tom, he understood why the real Alberto Montagna had not shown up yesterday. Apparently Sophie wasn’t the only one in the hospital.
Alberto had been caught once again by the husband of his lover, and this time the man had tried to finish what he’d started before. Alberto was in critical condition. Eliot knew he should feel some sympathy for the man, but all he could feel was repulsion for his stupidity.
“Okay, Tom, thanks for the update. I would still like to offer him a position, so when he recovers please contact me. And for your assistance, I would like to pay you whatever you would have made from the Mayfield commission plus ten percent. How does that sound?”
Eliot smiled to himself as Tom eagerly accepted the offer. Wise man that he was, Tom didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions about why a representative of Fulton was trying to steal a baker from a much smaller shop. Nor did he ask why Eliot did not want him contacting Mayfield directly anymore.
Later that afternoon, Eliot received a call from Steve and finally got all the dirt and history on Sophie Mayfield. The third and oldest daughter of Barbara Mayfield-Reynolds, she was born Sophia Riana Reynolds, and was a bit of a family black sheep. In honor of the grandparents she adored, Sophie had taken her mother’s maiden name when she was eighteen, much to her father’s fury.
By some strange twist of fate, Mae and Earl Mayfield, the adventurous family icons, had produced a family of ultraconservatives. With the exception of the eldest daughter, Sharyn, all their children—Kevin, Tobias, Barbara and Tina—were married and in stable relationships. Among the five, they’d produced twelve grandchildren. Two of them—Sophie and Lonnie—were close to their maternal grandmother; the others had all moved away.
Apparently, a few years ago, shortly after Sophie had graduated from college, where she majored in marketing, the family pushed Mae to sell the bakery and move into an assisted-living facility. Sophie and Mae had pushed back and won. Sophie had turned down a lucrative offer to work for a large marketing firm in New York, choosing instead to stay in Selmer and help her grandmother run the bakery. That move had apparently been enough for her parents to call it quits and break ties with her.
And the rest he’d pretty much witnessed yesterday. The bakery had never really taken off the way the pair had hoped, and were still hoping. But Sophie was still completely dedicated to her grandmother, and after meeting Mae, Eliot understood why.
He and Steve discussed the new offer for Mayfield, then he left for the day to do some shopping. If he was going to be a baker for however long, he would have to look like one. He couldn’t afford to keep going through four-hundred-dollar suits.
If he’d been an outside observer, Eliot realized he would have had nothing but respect and admiration for Sophie and her grandmother. Going up against Fulton, they were truly a modern day “David and Goliath” story.
But, he wasn’t an outside observer; he was the heir to the Fulton Food conglomerate. But heir or not, if he wanted the seat at the top of the heap, he would have to earn it. Even if it came through deceit and dishonest means. As beautifully inspirational as the original biblical story was, Eliot thought, this time…David would lose the battle.
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
The next day, Eliot was back at work in the bakery. He tried not to think too closely about how good and natural it felt to be there, despite the discomfort of working in a kitchen on a hot
As much as he hated to admit it, Carl was right. If he ever intended to run Fulton one day, he would have to learn to do things that at the time might seem unpalatable. As the old expression went, You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
After careful consideration, he made his decision. Eliot picked up the phone and called the agency.
After a few minutes of conversation with Tom, he understood why the real Alberto Montagna had not shown up yesterday. Apparently Sophie wasn’t the only one in the hospital.
Alberto had been caught once again by the husband of his lover, and this time the man had tried to finish what he’d started before. Alberto was in critical condition. Eliot knew he should feel some sympathy for the man, but all he could feel was repulsion for his stupidity.
“Okay, Tom, thanks for the update. I would still like to offer him a position, so when he recovers please contact me. And for your assistance, I would like to pay you whatever you would have made from the Mayfield commission plus ten percent. How does that sound?”
Eliot smiled to himself as Tom eagerly accepted the offer. Wise man that he was, Tom didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions about why a representative of Fulton was trying to steal a baker from a much smaller shop. Nor did he ask why Eliot did not want him contacting Mayfield directly anymore.
Later that afternoon, Eliot received a call from Steve and finally got all the dirt and history on Sophie Mayfield. The third and oldest daughter of Barbara Mayfield-Reynolds, she was born Sophia Riana Reynolds, and was a bit of a family black sheep. In honor of the grandparents she adored, Sophie had taken her mother’s maiden name when she was eighteen, much to her father’s fury.
By some strange twist of fate, Mae and Earl Mayfield, the adventurous family icons, had produced a family of ultraconservatives. With the exception of the eldest daughter, Sharyn, all their children—Kevin, Tobias, Barbara and Tina—were married and in stable relationships. Among the five, they’d produced twelve grandchildren. Two of them—Sophie and Lonnie—were close to their maternal grandmother; the others had all moved away.
Apparently, a few years ago, shortly after Sophie had graduated from college, where she majored in marketing, the family pushed Mae to sell the bakery and move into an assisted-living facility. Sophie and Mae had pushed back and won. Sophie had turned down a lucrative offer to work for a large marketing firm in New York, choosing instead to stay in Selmer and help her grandmother run the bakery. That move had apparently been enough for her parents to call it quits and break ties with her.
And the rest he’d pretty much witnessed yesterday. The bakery had never really taken off the way the pair had hoped, and were still hoping. But Sophie was still completely dedicated to her grandmother, and after meeting Mae, Eliot understood why.
He and Steve discussed the new offer for Mayfield, then he left for the day to do some shopping. If he was going to be a baker for however long, he would have to look like one. He couldn’t afford to keep going through four-hundred-dollar suits.
If he’d been an outside observer, Eliot realized he would have had nothing but respect and admiration for Sophie and her grandmother. Going up against Fulton, they were truly a modern day “David and Goliath” story.
But, he wasn’t an outside observer; he was the heir to the Fulton Food conglomerate. But heir or not, if he wanted the seat at the top of the heap, he would have to earn it. Even if it came through deceit and dishonest means. As beautifully inspirational as the original biblical story was, Eliot thought, this time…David would lose the battle.
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
The next day, Eliot was back at work in the bakery. He tried not to think too closely about how good and natural it felt to be there, despite the discomfort of working in a kitchen on a hot
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