Love By Chance (Chance Series Book 1)

by Blake Allwood

  I hadn’t noticed that Lucia had come out of the restaurant to collect the dishes. “You will do no such thing. I can barely handle the foot traffic as it is, I will not have you writing any damned thing in the paper just to run me over with a whole crowd of new customers. Thank you for your compliments, but I am happy being the size that I am.”

  “Lucia,” Elian chuckled, “he isn’t here as a critic. He’s here as my date. I just wanted him to see we aren’t just about making money. We also love the food.”

  She put the plates she had just picked up back on the table, turned to me, and said, “I don’t know what my brother has told you, but we are first and foremost a restaurant that serves high quality food and service. I run my business as I see fit and do not let money rule us. This is why my brother will never take this place and turn it into one of his fancy business schemes, and if you are here to promote that, you and I will have problems.” She picked up the plates again and headed into the kitchen with her head held high.

  Elian roared with laughter as soon as the door closed behind his sister. “I have been trying to convince Lucia to allow me to turn this concept into a franchise since we were teenagers. She will have nothing to do with it and told me if I force the issue, she will quit and take all her recipes with her. I know the two women who work with her are fiercely loyal, so without Lucia, there is no Lucia’s.

  “So why did you bring me here?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Because you think I am only about business and money. You needed to see that I am also about family and that my family values the same things you said you do. I may be a businessman, but family comes first.”

  I couldn’t help but stare at my date. The man had shocked me first with exquisite food, then with a full contradiction of who I thought he was. “So, if your sister relented and said she would work with you, would you exploit her?”

  “First, let’s be clear that Lucia will go to her grave before she would be willing to relent to anything I want her to do. Second, even if she would consider my offer, I wouldn’t, no. I know without a shadow of a doubt, Lucia does this because she loves it. It feeds her soul, and she expresses her love in this way. I would never take that love away from her, nor would I eliminate the very best place to eat Cuban food outside of Cuba.”

  “OK you win,” I said, shaking my head. “I did think you were a self-absorbed businessman who could only think about the bottom line. Our conversation earlier when we met made me think you were looking for the next business to exploit, but clearly, you are only a self-absorbed businessman who will exploit strangers.”

  Laughter erupted behind Elian as Lucia rounded the back of the building toward the little outdoor table. “OK,” she said, clearly having heard my comment to Elian, “I like this one, let me bring you some dulce de leche. Here I thought you were just one of his prudish business friends.” She then disappeared back into the building before Elian caught his breath.

  “Wait.” I tried to stop her. I was so full I had no idea where more food would go.

  “You won’t win now. She likes you, so she will never rest until you are fat and plump. Besides, I never get to eat her dulce de leche. If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it.”

  Once again, I glowered at my date. I might have found a few redeeming qualities in the man, but he was insufferable, to say the least.

  The dulce de leche was in a category of its own. Once again, I’d sampled many like this over the years, but if I had to critique this one, I would write that it was something special, something better, and shouldn’t be classified in the same category as the others I’d eaten.

  As promised, Elian ate most of the dulce, eating it quickly and not savoring it, which annoyed me. With that much delicate flavor, it should be savored.

  After we finished, Elian took the remaining dishes into the kitchen, hugged his sister, and waved at Manuel. “Adios, mi hermana. It was as good as usual,” he said as we left.

  I thought I saw Lucia flip Elian off as he walked out the door, but the door frame was in the way, and I couldn’t be sure. Dispite the fact he embodied the word insufferable, I couldn’t resist the idea of getting to know him more. Unlike with Peter, my ex whose mom hated me on sight, Lucia seemed to like me more than she did her brother. “That could be a refreshing change,” I thought.

  I hesitated after I walked out of the restaurant, and Elian immediately pulled my arm into his as we began walking back down the beach toward my car.

  “Were you planning to bring me to your sister’s tonight?” I asked.

  “No,” Elian chuckled. “I usually avoid mixing my dates with my family as they can be a lot to deal with, but you were getting the wrong impression of me, and I needed you to see there is more to my personality than business. It needs to be well-balanced to be right. Next time, I’ll take you to my favorite hamburger stand on the other side of Las Olas.”

  I stopped and looked at him. “Your favorite isn’t the one your family owns?”

  “Oh, no, not even close. My cousin runs that, and he couldn’t cook to save his life or someone else's.”

  I laughed for the first time that evening. “So, it isn’t just family you are obligated to. You also appreciate good flavor.”

  “Absolutely,” Elian agreed. “If my sister’s food wasn’t the flavor worthy of feeding the gods, I would love her but never eat there. As such, I love my cousin but avoid his cooking.”

  We walked companionably back to the hotel, and when we got to my car, Elian reached around and opened it for me. I was going to get in my car and leave to avoid the man until I felt a little more settled about him. Before I could escape, though, Elian reached over and kissed me gently on the lips, then whispered in Spanish, “Hasta la proxima vez guapo,” and then in English, “until next time, handsome.” And he left me staring after him.

  The next morning, as I walked through the cubicles toward my office, several snickers crept up as I walked by. When I finally arrived at my office, I stopped short at the sight of several large helium-filled balloons so big they barely fit. On the other side of the balloons, I saw my editor, Kristine, sitting in my office chair, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I sighed and walked in.

  “Morning, Kristine,”

  “Morning sunshine. So, it appears someone got lucky last night.”

  I replied in a monotone voice, “We didn’t have sex if that’s what you are implying.”

  “Martin,” Kristine replied, “a man does not send balloons the day after a date unless the sex was good.”

  “Unless he didn’t get sex yet,” I corrected.

  “Oh, even better,” she said, getting up from my chair. “You are playing hard to get.”

  I sat in the chair just vacated by Kristine and rubbed my head.

  “No, nothing like that. He didn’t offer, and it would’ve been weird if he had. We went to his sister’s restaurant down on Las Olas Beach, and afterward, he walked me back to my car, gave me a PG-rated kiss, and sent me on my way.”

  “I’m confused,” Kristine joked. “Aren’t gay men supposed to have sex first, then romance later?”

  “Nice stereotyping,” I said dryly. “I guess this man is a little different, or he isn’t really attracted and just wants me for my ratings.”

  Kristine choked a bit from that comment. “Doubtful,” she added, “considering I followed up on that lead, and he has indeed sold the restaurant.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” I said. “This guy is a businessman through and through. We don’t know what his motives are yet. He sold that business, but it is more likely than not he has his eye on another in the area. It would be in his best interest to have a food critic in his back pocket.”

  Kristine scrunched up her face and said, “You are jaded, Martin Williams. What happened to you to cause someone your age to be so jaded?”

  I glanced up at her and responded, “You know very well why I’m jaded about men. Besides, I learned long ago that not all men are what they appear to be on the surf
ace.”

  Kristine studied me for a moment. “From your editor’s perspective, I’m very happy you are watching your back and avoiding a scandal with someone who may be manipulating you for a good review. From a friend’s perspective, I hate to see you pass up an opportunity to have fantastic sex with a very hot man just because you were burned in the past.”

  I smiled weakly at my friend as she turned and left.

  Since I’d driven away from Elian, I’d decided I would not go out with him again, even if he asked. There was too much in the way of our success. Not only was the man a serial restaurateur, but he very likely had a hidden agenda. I swore after Peter I’d be more vigilant when it came to men, and this one threw up every red flag.

  Admittely, I liked the idea of his uncle who refused to sell the deco-inspired condos and his sister who ran the restaurant down on Las Olas for the sole reason of doing what she loved, but just because he had good family didn’t mean he wasn’t the bad seed of the bunch.

  A week passed before I heard from Elian again. It was Friday evening, and I’d just gotten off work and was walking to my car when I saw him leaning against it, all smiles.

  “You appear to have just eaten a canary. Why are you leaning on my car?” I asked, unable to hide my frustration with him showing up.

  Elian’s face dropped, “You really don’t trust me, do you?”

  As I stood in front of him, I decided to answer honestly. “I don’t trust easily and it’s very possible you have ulterior motives.”

  Elian smiled again. “But you must trust someone eventually, so it might as well be me. What are your plans tonight?” he asked.

  “Work, TV, and bed—in that order,” I replied.

  “You live a wild and crazy life, Martin. Come with me. I just got back in town, and I’d like to have you join me down at the beach. Tonight is a special party. There will be lots of people there. Free booze and lots of dancing.”

  With his comment about dancing, Elian did a little move that demonstrated just how Caribbean he really was. The subtle movement struck me right in the groin area. I always did have a thing for Latino men, but throw just the slightest mix of Caribbean sex appeal into the mix, and I was toast.

  I thought about the conversation with Kristine. I was jaded, and I knew that belonged to my ex’s betrayal. It really wasn’t fair to any man, be it Elian or a future date, to compare him to someone from my past.

  I looked Elian in the eye for a moment, trying to see any signs of his ulterior motive there before responding. Elian’s smile never faded.

  “OK, maybe,” I said, “but let’s get this boundary firmly set. I will go with you tonight, and if I continue to like you, then I might go out with you again. But let’s be very clear: if you ask me even one time to write a review for you or to help find someone who will give you a positive review on your restaurants, then I’m out. I’ll disappear, and I will not respond to anything you write to me again. If you are buttering me up for business reasons, you should stop now and save us both a lot of trouble.”

  “La gusta a el!” Elian said and turned a circle with his hands in the air. I had had enough Spanish in high school and college to know he’d said something to the affect that I liked him.

  “That is all you got from my lecture?” I said with a chuckle.

  Elian put his hands on my elbows and said, “You think I have ulterior motives, but I don’t. I want to go out with you, and get to know you—maybe woo you a little—but I don’t need or want you to make my business better. I can do that on my own.”

  Then Elian kissed me on the lips, lingering a little longer than he had the previous time. Still no tongue, but I couldn’t deny there was plenty of passion there.

  “So, you will go with me to the party?” he asked.

  I sighed but smiled in spite of myself, “Sure, I’ll go with you to the party.”

  Elian all but danced around me as we made plans to meet in one hour at my apartment.

  I rushed home and changed into party attire—black shirt that tapered along my torso, accompanied by tight jeans that hugged my waist and legs. When Janice recently visited me, she called this my “push me down into the pillows and fuck me outfit.” Since then, every time I put this outfit on, I’d giggle.

  I was beginning to get excited about the party. It’d been too long since I let myself go out just for the sake of dancing and having fun. I had to admit, the talk with Elian had alleviated some of my concerns. I was beginning to like this guy, but I still didn’t totally trust him, and I was nowhere ready to let my guard down.

  Despite that, I convinced myself to just go have some fun. Free booze and a night of dancing seemed like just what I needed to unwind. Who knows? If the Cuban prince played his cards right, he might even get more than just a peck on the mouth. I might even French kiss him. “God forbid,” I said aloud, giggling.

  I laughed at the thought of being so restrained. This was the first time I’d been on a second date with a guy and not have at least put my tongue down his throat. Janice would have told me this is some kind of sign.

  Thinking of Janice, I texted her and said, “Going out with a gorgeous, sexy Cuban to a beach party. I’ll send you a picture when he arrives to pick me up.”

  Janice texted back immediately with a picture of a hot redhead who appeared to be rather shocked and a bit disheveled in the picture. “This is my date—hunky man who I’m currently seducing. Let’s talk tomorrow.” Then, a few seconds later, she texted, “Tomorrow evening.” I laughed out loud at the text. The poor guy had no idea what he was in for. Janice was nothing if not intense.

  Elian arrived still dressed in the jeans and t-shirt he was in when he met in the parking lot. When he stepped out of the car, I glared at him suspiciously and said, “You don’t appear to be dressed for a party.”

  He looked me up and down and whistled. “You, however look like you’re not planning to stay long at the party.” When Elian’s eyes met mine, his normal cool had been replaced with hunger and need. The intensity in his expression made me blush. “Should I go change?” I asked.

  Elian responded immediately with “No… no, no, I want to watch you in that outfit all night. Then, I want to…” He stopped himself before he went on. “It is probably best that I not finish that statement. I will need to go by the apartment and change before we head to the party.”

  The raw sexuality that I’d seen in Elian’s gaze had turned every warning signal on in my head, but it also sparked every sexual need in me. So, instead of responding in my usual smart assed way, I simply replied, “OK.”

  We got into Elian’s little sports car and sped off toward Las Olas Beach. I was deposited in a small bar inside his uncle’s first condo as Elian disappeared up the elevator. He returned before I had finished the gin and tonic he’d quickly ordered for me before disappearing. When he returned, he was dressed to the nines. His sports coat was perfectly tailored to show off his muscular build, and like me, he wore jeans that accented every aspect of his body.

  I smiled when he arrived, “that is a bit of a change.” I stood up, and taking the initiative, laid a thick kiss on him—certainly not the pecks he’d given me. I wanted to be clear I had some initiative in me as well. Elian wasn’t going to be the only one running this show.

  The kiss was hotter than I’d anticipated, and when I finally pulled back, Elian’s eyes were a mix of shock and lust. “Now,” I replied, “I think I’m ready for this party.”

  A very attractive man who appeared to be in his sixties came over and said, “What kind of party are you throwing, Elian?” Elian turned to the man and stammered a bit before he said, “Tio, this is my date, Martin Williams. Martin, this is my uncle, Raul Alverez.” Elian appeared to be both embarrassed and deeply affected by the kiss.

  I knew it was naughty, but I was enjoying the smooth player’s reaction more than I probably should’ve. It was the first time I’d seen the cool, unmovable demeanor of the Cuban prince disturbed.

  I
smiled at the gentleman and said, “Hello, Senior Alverez. It is my pleasure to meet you. Your nephew has told me truly remarkable things about you.”

  The man seemed to also be enjoying his nephew’s discomfort as well and grabbed my hand in a strong, competent handshake. “This is the first time our boy has brought us someone to meet. It seems you have made an impression on him.”

  Elian’s look, alternating between his uncle and me—clearly not quite sure how to respond—but when he regained his composure he said, “I’ve been away for work, but I wanted to spend some more time with Martin, so I thought I’d ask him to join me at mama and papa’s anniversary party. I doubt they’ll mind.”

  Anniversary party? I thought. No one said anything about an anniversary party. “I pinned Elian with a confused, wary look, which Elian’s uncle noticed. “I take it the young man didn’t realize it was a family gathering you brought him to?”

  I decided to respond before Elian. “He seemed to have left that part out, but I’m excited to spend the evening with your family. I already met your niece,Lucia, and we seem to have hit it off. I’m sure I’ll enjoy meeting the rest of you.” This made the older man smile.

  The party was a blast. I’d been to family gatherings of my other friends from Cuba and knew they could be very large and expansive affairs. This one, however, appeared more like a multi-generational beach party.