by Terra Little
With earbuds in, listening to his favorite playlist, he jogged his way back to the hotel. He wasn’t sure what time Mr. Patel would be returning, but he planned to take a shower, dress and be ready for anything. Some community social group must have been having a meeting, because there were little old ladies mingling all around. Laurent caught the front desk clerk’s attention and asked where he could find the closest vending machine. He needed a bottle of water. The clerk motioned down the hall, and said something about “toward the gym.”
Switching the music on his cell phone to his cooldown playlist, he continued briskly down the hall toward the gym. There were several doors, but none of them had a vending sign. He started to say forget it and just go up to the vending machine on the third floor when he saw an unmarked door and a light coming from underneath it.
“This must be it,” he said to himself. He reached for the doorknob and pulled it open, getting the surprise of his life.
A scream, followed by something flying over his head, ended with a pair of big, beautiful black eyes looking up at him. On reflex he’d grabbed the woman falling out of the door under her arms, just in time to keep her from hitting the floor. The light floral scent of her perfume tickled his nose, causing him to take a deep breath. Still inside the doorway, another woman stood with eyes bucked and mouth wide-open. That wasn’t a good sign.
“Oh my God!” the woman in the doorway screamed.
As the woman in his arms struggled to right herself, Laurent tried to make sense of what had just happened. That wasn’t the room with the vending machine. He helped her up before yanking the earbuds from his ears.
“Look at what you just did!” the woman yelled as she straightened to her full height.
When she set her eyes on Laurent, he stopped breathing for a second. She was beautiful. Her eyes could stop traffic, and those ruby-red lips were calling his name. Her hair was pulled back, but ringlets of curls had loosened as she’d fallen into his arms. His eyes followed her as she walked around him and over to something on the floor—a crushed white box. He needed to say something, but he was speechless.
“Oh, man, not my cake! Not now!” she screamed.
He found something of a voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Girl, is it okay?” Both women were in the hall now, as the beautiful one from his arms gingerly righted the box and examined the contents. A few of the older women from the lobby had come peeking down the hall to have a look.
Laurent had the sinking feeling he’d just ruined this beautiful woman’s day.
She threw the top back. “It’s ruined! My beautiful cake is ruined.” She quickly turned to the other woman. “You have the cupcakes, don’t you?”
“Right here.” She held up a smaller, square box kept secure in her hands.
Both women took a deep breath before turning their fiery gazes on Laurent. He swallowed hard as he wrapped his earbuds around his cell phone. “Again, I apologize. I opened the door thinking I would find the vending machines.”
The tall one with the red lips narrowed her eyes at him, and he immediately felt worse. He had to offer to do something to fix the situation. He took a step toward them. “Let me buy you another cake,” he offered. “Or two.”
“You can’t buy another one of those, son.” The shorter, hippy sister tilted her head at him.
“Didn’t you see the staff-only sign pasted above the door?” asked the tall woman, with her nostrils flared.
Laurent hadn’t seen any sign on the door. But when he turned around and glanced up, sure enough there was a plaque just above the door that read Staff Only. Why in the hell wasn’t it on the door instead of above the door? He quickly turned back to the women, who had “told you so” smirks on their faces.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see that. Just let me run upstairs and get my wallet—”
“This is a one-of-a-kind cake that can’t be duplicated, you idiot. I have a meeting in less than fifteen minutes, and now I don’t have a cake.” She let out a nervous laugh. “This is crazy. The biggest meeting of my life, and you ruined it and my cake.”
“Don’t worry, girl, we still have the cupcakes.” The shorter woman held up her box with a smile. “And even though the cake is smashed, maybe they can still taste it.”
“I can’t present that cake to anybody. Especially not Melanie.”
Laurent wanted to return to his room and let these women resolve the situation themselves.
Then the taller one turned her wrath on him again, placing a hand on her hip. “Why are you walking through this place with those earphones on, anyway? You can’t hear what’s coming or going.”
“I could ask why were you backing out of a room when you couldn’t see what was on the other side. Like I said, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m totally to blame here. Besides, I offered to purchase you another cake. I’m not sure what else I can do.”
“You’re right, you can’t do anything else. You’ve already done enough.” She turned to her friend. “I’m going to go in there and sell this, cake or no cake. Come on, Mae.” Without another word they headed down the hall toward the conference rooms.
The minute she walked away, Laurent couldn’t shake the feeling he should be going after her. Something about the look in those piercing eyes grabbed him by the throat and wouldn’t let go. Who was she? He hadn’t even gotten her name. Although at the moment, he doubted she’d want to give it to him. He stood there watching her confidently stride down the hall with a smile on his face.
* * *
Tracee’s heart was pounding in her chest as she walked down the corridor. Her first official tasting was ruined unless she could quickly come up with something clever to save the day. Then again, she could just be honest with them and let them know how some jerk had caused her to lose her balance and ruin the sample cake. They still had a few minutes. When they reached the small conference room, Mae held the door open for her. Tracee took one look over her shoulder to see if that gym rat of a brother in shorts was still standing around. He wasn’t.
“Girl, can you believe that dude,” Mae said, following the direction of Tracee’s gaze. “I bet he had that music blasting through his ears and wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.”
“That’s obvious,” Tracee said as she turned around and entered the room. “What I should have done was taken his money just on principle. If we don’t get this gig, I’m going to find him and kick his butt.”
Mae helped her display the cupcakes while they scrambled to come up with a story to save the day. Before they could agree on something, the door to the conference room opened, and a beautiful blonde followed by a shorter white guy entered the room.
“Melanie!” Tracee strode to the door to greet them.
“Hi, Tracee, it’s so good to see you again.”
“Same here.” Tracee greeted Melanie with a cursory hug. They had gone to the same schools, although they hadn’t been in the same classes, so Tracee felt as if they had something in common.
Melanie introduced her husband-to-be, and Tracee introduced Mae. Everyone had a seat at the round table full of brochures and cupcakes. Tracee couldn’t help but notice the way Melanie’s fiancé kept looking around the room. He made her nervous.
“So where’s the cake?” he asked. “I thought this was going to be a cake tasting.”
Tracee sighed and looked at Mae, who sat poised with her professional smile, leaving the explanation up to her. There was only one thing she could do. Tracee stood up and walked over to the side table where the smashed cake sat. In her book, honesty was the best policy.
When Laurent returned from his run, an envelope had been slipped under his door. Mr. Patel requested that he meet them at a nearby restaurant for lunch, which was just what Laurent had hoped for—a more relaxed atmosphere to discuss business. After he showered and changed into an outfit
that made him look more like the average middle manager than a company VP, he was ready to meet with Mr. Patel and his sons. He grabbed his leather portfolio and set out to make magic happen.
He found the small Indian restaurant with no problem. Once inside, he was ushered to a back room, where a table filled with food, along with three men, waited for him. He assumed this was Mr. Patel and his sons.
The oldest of the three men walked toward Laurent with a slight limp in his gait. “Ah, you must be Laurent Martin?”
“Yes, sir. And you must be Mr. Patel.” Laurent smiled and accepted the man’s outstretched hand. Laurent towered over the shorter man, who was white headed with a salt-and-pepper mustache and beard. His face looked as if the years had taken a toll on him, but he smiled nonetheless. The tantalizing aromas and vibrant colors of the food on the table made Laurent’s stomach growl. After his morning run, he was ready to eat, but he hoped they were also prepared to talk business.
“Call me Abeer. It’s a pleasure to meet you after speaking with your father on so many occasions. I’m sorry we could not come to an agreement, which would have saved you the trip.”
“Well, let’s hope you and I have better luck. My father has briefed me on everything, and I think we’ve included some incentives that you will find to your liking. Martin Enterprises is very interested in your properties, and in doing right by your family.”
The older man had crossed his arms over his chest and glanced away, giving Laurent the impression that he wasn’t interested in business. Mistake number two, Laurent said to himself. He invited you to lunch—don’t talk business yet. Let him lead the conversation.
“Have you met my sons?” Mr. Patel asked as he waved them over. The two men at the other end of the table broke free of their conversation and joined them. “This is my son Raji, whom I believe you met yesterday.”
Laurent nodded toward his tour guide and smiled. “Yes, I did. Thanks for the tour,” he said as he shook Raji’s hand.
“This is my eldest son, Arjun. He lives in Somerset and manages our hotel there.”
Arjun was a slight man with a small frame. He offered Laurent a weak handshake with a closed-lip smile. He accepted the man’s hand, to the sound of more people entering their private section of the restaurant. When Laurent turned around, a few women dressed in flowing saris, along with a few small children, entered the room. Arjun explained that the family would be joining them for lunch.
Mr. Patel patted Laurent on the back. “I hope you like Indian food, and that you’re hungry. A good friend of mine owns the restaurant, and he is an excellent cook. I didn’t know what you’d like to eat so, as you see, we ordered a little bit of everything. Come on, let’s eat.”
Disappointed but not too surprised, Laurent smiled as he was introduced to the rest of the family before being told where to sit. He had truly been invited to lunch and not a business meeting, as he’d hoped. He understood now he had to gain Mr. Patel’s trust before he’d speak numbers.
* * *
After a more than disappointing lunch with the Patels, where not a word of business was spoken, Laurent returned to his room and did a little digging to look up Sam Kane. Just as Marquis had said, he was a professor at Centre College. He got his old buddy on the phone.
“Man, I can’t believe you’re in Danville. Laurent, I haven’t seen you since... I don’t know man, when was the last time we were together?” Sam asked.
“Amsterdam, a year after graduation from Berkeley. We about shut the place down. That’s why I almost fell out of my chair when Marquis told me you were married.”
“A lot’s changed since college, man. I met a woman who had the power to shut all that partying down. We’ve been married ten years now. Two kids, a boy, a girl, and a big-ass dog. Guess you can say I’m living the American dream.”
Laurent shook his head. Happy for his friend, but surprised at the same time. “Man, that sounds wonderful, but somehow I thought you’d probably be practicing international law and living overseas. Thought you might follow in your old man’s footsteps.” Like I did.
“Law school really wasn’t my thing. I thought about it, but after spending a few years studying abroad, I chose international relations instead. And now I’m teaching it.”
“That’s what I hear. Sam, the college professor. I’m proud of you, man. We have to sit down and get caught up while I’m in town.”
“Definitely. How long are you going to be here?”
Laurent thought back to the lunch he’d assumed was going to be his first meeting. “A week or so, and then I’m taking a two-week vacation to someplace tropical.”
“Man, we’ll definitely have to get together. I want you to meet my wife. I used to tell her all about my old fishing buddies.” They laughed together and went on to trade stories of fishing for women instead of fish. Sam’s parties had been popular with all the beautiful women on campus.
“Say, I’ve got an idea. What are you doing tomorrow?” Sam asked.
It was Sunday and Laurent didn’t know of a church to attend in the area. “Nothing. I’m all yours.”
“My wife and I have reservations at this little bed-and-breakfast that does a wonderful Sunday brunch. It’s kind of new, and we’ve been wanting to go for a while. Why don’t you come and join us? That way we can catch up and you can meet my wife.”
“Sure. Just let me know where to meet you.”
“Great. I’ll call and have them add one more. Is this your cell you’re on? If so, I’ll text you the address and time.”
“Yep. You’ve got it.”
“Fantastic! I can’t wait to see my old fishing buddy.”
“Me neither,” Laurent said, chuckling at the way they used the term. He said goodbye, then pulled out his laptop. He was about to engage in the one thing he didn’t like to do on a Saturday night—work.
* * *
Sunday brunch was another one of Tayler’s ingenious ideas. Make it elegant, keep it simple and treat the guest like a VIP. Tayler knew how to take advantage of slow times and monopolize on them. Anyone who reserved a spot for Sunday brunch was offered a discounted rate for a midweek stay. Tracee was surprised by the number of folks who took advantage of the discounts. She especially liked the fact that she was able to grab a few more hours, since she hadn’t been working Sundays.
This Sunday she was in a particularly good mood. Whoever said it doesn’t pay to tell the truth was lying. After she’d confessed about her accident yesterday at the cake tasting, Melanie and her fiancé had still wanted to taste the smashed cake. They loved it so much that they looked through her portfolio of pictures and picked out the one they wanted. She had her first affluent client, which she hoped would lead to more business and greater revenue over time.
The kitchen was abuzz with Tayler, Corra and her aunt Rita all getting ready for the brunch crowd. Tracee had baked a carrot cake and buttermilk panna cotta earlier that morning. Presently, there were only four guests staying at the bed-and-breakfast, with five reservations for brunch.
From the kitchen, Tracee could hear some of the guests had arrived and Tayler was welcoming them. Minutes later, Tayler entered the kitchen with orders of steak and eggs, breakfast pizza, French toast with berries, waffles and homemade jams. They also served a variety of cereals, muffins and other pastries.
Tracee backed out of the kitchen with a plate of French toast in one hand and a steak and eggs plate in the other. She turned toward the table full of handsome men and women with a smile.
“Who had the French toast?” she asked. A woman at the end of the table raised her hand. Tracee held the plates above their heads as she made her way to set the plate in front of a middle-aged black woman with beautiful salt-and-pepper hair. The hair was the first thing to catch her attention. She hoped as she grew older her hair would be so luscious.
“And how about the steak and eggs?” She
held up the second plate.
“I believe that would be mine.” A voice came from the other side of the table.
Tracee looked across the table and almost dropped the plate. The rude guy from the hotel yesterday looked up at her with raised brows. The corner of his lip turned up, and she realized he recognized her as well.
Chapter 4
Tracee shook the stupid look from her face and walked around the table to deposit his plate before him. “Your steak and eggs.”
“Thank you. Would you happen to have any steak sauce?” he asked, glancing up at her.
There was something about the slow way his gaze traveled up her body before meeting her eyes that made her take a deep breath. She shook her head, then quickly changed directions. “I mean, yes. Of course we do. Does anybody else need anything?” she asked as she walked around the table. Everyone said no.
Tracee dashed into the kitchen and found the steak sauce in the pantry. She couldn’t believe that guy was sitting in their dining room. He’d recognized her, but he hadn’t said anything about yesterday. Steak sauce in hand, she returned to the dining room.
When she set the bottle on the table, he thanked her with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
“I hope everything went all right yesterday,” he added before she walked away.
Tracee placed her hands on her hips. So, he wanted to acknowledge what he’d done.
“Luckily yes, everything was fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Do you two know each other?” a man sitting across the table asked.