##Chapter 1: A Not So Sweet Meeting

If there was one thing Elaine Roberts knew without a doubt, it was that there was no way of knowing what the day would bring.

Working as a social worker for women in crisis, there were always updated regulations to learn, hours of driving around and getting lost, followed by long stretches of silence and paperwork.

Lately, the driving hadn't been so bad. The monotony of it all helped her get her mind off…well... no other way to say it but the breakup. Pretty nasty thing really.

She had been a blonde bartender with pretty green eyes. Flirted the whole night to get Elaine's number. The bartender got said number, did all kinds of wonderful things for the next month and a half, and then….

She started going on about how Elaine was too involved with her work to be emotionally available. That she needed to "find herself" before she could love someone else.

What the h**l kind of lame excuse was that!?

She was a social worker! How much more emotionally available could you get!?

Next time, she would find someone who understood what it meant to work in a public service position. Maybe find a nice lawyer or something. She had friends in high places. She could make it work.

She was just about to launch into another tirade about how the blonde hadn't even bothered to take her stuff with her when she left when the phone rang.

Struggling from the duvet, Elaine slapped around for the device before pulling the fabric back enough to see.

It was 12:00 P.M. There were three unanswered emails in need of her attention, and the current caller was unknown.

With a lunge, the phone's owner swiped the case off the corner and unlocked it, pressing the cool plastic to her ear as she shuffled into her slippers, heading for the closet.

"Good afternoon, this is Elaine. How may I help you?"

Static filled the room for a while, the sound of papers being rifled through, until an older voice finally said.

"Ah yes, this is the residence of Miss Elaine Roberts, correct?"

A pair of coffee colored dress slacks and a loose fitting cream blouse was pulled from the hanger on the door handle.

"Yes, this is she. May I ask who is calling?"

More papers were crumpled. Elaine took the time to set her phone on the recliner so she could dress, trying to keep the microphone from picking up her movements.

"This is Tammy Ray Sellers from the Birchfield Bakery. I am calling to talk to you about an order you placed recently for 200 cupcakes. There's an urgent problem with the delivery that just can't wait. Would you care to come down and get everything sorted out as soon as possible?"

Cupcakes… she hadn't ordered any… oh! It had to be a coded message. Lots of shelters would take on front businesses to protect their clientele.

Slipping her belt around her waist, Elaine hummed and tapped on her favorite café app. She punched in an order for three coffees, three toasted egg and cheese sandwiches, and a case of doughnuts.

"Certainly, I can be there in let's say… an hour or less depending on traffic. Be sure to tell the cooks and bakers I say thank you for working so hard on the order. I know I'm always calling you guys last minute. You just have the best red velvet in Chicago."

Rapid clicks were heard. A message appeared on Elaine's screen soon after.

"I've just sent you an outline of the problem, Ms. Roberts. Please be sure to read everything on it on the way over so you can be up to speed. Thank you for your time, and have a wonderful day."

The phone went silent before Elaine could reply, and she laughed softly as she pulled up her emails.

Some people were in way too much of a hurry these days. Not that Elaine could blame them. Not if the situation was as dire as the call made it out to be.

The top message was marked confidential, and as it loaded up, she pressed some heeled boots to her pants to check the colors against each other.

Hmm, the blue would work nicer with this look. It made the outfit less intimidating. It wouldn't do to scare off the new clients before even getting to meet them.

A small ding drew her eyes to her phone. Flipping it onto its side so the page expanded, she tied her hair into a braided bun, reading the document carefully.

As she thought, Birchfield Bakery was the alias of a local women's shelter. They'd just gotten in two new clients, hence the 200 cupcakes line. Both were fairly ragged and showed signs of physical and mental trauma. That would be the delivery problem. A mother and daughter. Let's see….

Gina and Grace Holiday.

They were recommended to the center by Frank Sims. He said the shelter should call her before figuring out the best living situation for the new clients.

Well, that explained how they got Elaine's number. She'd have to give Frankie a call and remind him to give her a heads up whenever he dropped her name. He was lucky she was home!

Grabbing her keys from the drawer, Elaine double checked to make sure her outfit was in place before running down the stairs to the car port.

Hopefully, the café had her order ready. Something told her this was going to be a long day.

***

The bakery was located on Van Buren Street right between a laundromat and deli. It was three stories, made entirely from bricks of different colors, and had small balconies on the side looking out towards the river.

Elaine wasn't sure you could see it though, considering the skyline was ninety percent apartment complexes and billboards.

Taking a sip of coffee, wincing at the overly bitter taste, she walked through the door, panicking as her bags got caught on the chairs near the entrance. She wasn't sure what all her potential clients had, so she'd gone shopping while the food cooked.

Nothing too extravagant, just some simple pants and shirts. She wasn't certain of the ages of either party, so she'd gotten the biggest sizes for each age range she could find. Whatever didn't fit them could be donated to the shelter.

She was greeted by a white haired elderly woman coated in flour dust and an apron three sizes longer than her body. The woman's grip was strong as she ushered Elaine up some narrow stairs in the back of the kitchen.

"I was starting to get worried you weren't coming."

Elaine grinned and held up her coffee.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Ms. Seller. Just had to make sure I had enough energy. These women have been through enough. They deserve to be greeted with nothing but positivity and care."

The woman rolled her eyes and jerked her hand towards a spacious sitting room half hidden behind a curved wall.

"Tell that to the brute they sent from the district attorney's office. She's been working that poor mother to death to get her to do some kind of witness protection or testimony business. I told her she wasn't welcome here, but she pulled some legal nonsense, so I had to let her see them."

District attorney, huh? The case must be bigger than she thought. They sure didn't waste any time. It didn't bode well at all for the clients. There was no way this attorney would have taken the right precautions in getting around undetected.

No two ways about it, she would have to go.

"Don't worry, Ms. Sellers. I'll make sure this lawyer knows her help is appreciated but unwelcome at this time. Thank you for all your help."

Nodding, Tammy Ray slid the door closed, latching it behind her.

Inhaling deeply, making sure her smile was just wide enough in the hallway mirror, Elaine stepped into the room. Three heads snapped in her direction, but one caught her eye and refused to let go.

She nearly dropped everything in her hands in her haste to cross the living room to say hello.

When Ms. Sellers said they sent a brute from the DA's office, she could have warned her they would be this pretty.

High cheekbones and hazel eyes. Rosy lips curved with a hint of a smile. Hair blonde enough it could be actual gold framed about her face. The woman was tall, and judging by the way her skirt and suit jacket set on her body, fairly fashion conscious.

Too bad she was a lawyer on a case Elaine was working. She'd love to take her for drinks and pick her brain. Figure out what was hidden inside those molten eyes of hers.

Oh, yes. She could see it now.

She would waltz in with her right up the bar and order the bartender's special mojito. The secret pink one which she made only for her "favorite" customers, for her new date.

Then she would make a point to elaborate on how interesting it was that the lawyer worked a job for hours on end without recognition, all for the sake of other people. How wonderful and kind she must have been.

See what tall, blonde, and perky thought of her then. Make her see how well she was doing without the bartender and her "helpful" advice.

Petty is as petty does.

An eyebrow rising made Elaine smile wider, hand extending to take the seated woman's own in a hardy shake.

"Elaine Roberts, I'll be the social worker slash counselor slash all around contact for the duration of the Holidays' stay here. What brings you around, Ms. District Attorney? I didn't realize I was that famous yet. I hadn't planned on adoring fans until Christmas at least."

The attorney's smile tightened just a bit as she scooted over to make room for Elaine and her packages, reaching to help her arrange them out on the table.

"Abigail Fredricks. I'm here regarding the case of Bobby Holiday. I was hoping to convince Mrs. Holiday and her daughter to testify against Mr. Holiday in his upcoming trial. I'm not having much luck, so perhaps you could advise your client as to the legal advantages involved in assisting us."

Well, well color her surprised. A lawyer with manners and a diction that didn't scream, "I spent ten years at law school so you should fear me and my lawsuits."

Elaine unwrapped a sandwich, sliding the others towards Mrs. Holiday and her daughter.

"I see. That does sound quite the auspicious occasion. However, I'm afraid my clients and I are going to have to ask you for something in return."