by Terra Little
“I ran into her yesterday at the hotel. I believe you were on your way to a meeting?”
Mr. Rude had asked her that with squinted eyes. She gritted her teeth and smiled. “I was. A very successful meeting, I might add.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I don’t believe I got your name?” he asked.
“And I don’t believe I gave it.” She let out a deep breath. “Tracee Coleman, and you’re?”
“Laurent.” He stood up halfway, holding the napkin in his lap, and offered his hand, knocking over his glass of iced tea at the same time.
Tracee jumped back as he quickly grabbed the glass before losing all of the contents. She wanted to laugh. He used his napkin to soak up the liquid from the table.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said to the man sitting next to him, who’d managed to move his plate out of the way before any damage was done. Then Laurent turned his attention back to Tracee and extended his hand. “I’m clearly not making a good impression, but the name’s Laurent Martin.”
Tracee accepted his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Don’t worry about that. I’ll get you another tea. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before. Do you live in the area?” she asked as she walked over to the sideboard for the pitcher of iced tea.
“No, I’m here on business.”
“Laurent is an old fishing buddy of mine.” The man next to Laurent put his arms around the woman sitting next to him. “I’m Sam Kane, and this is my wife, Janet.”
Tracee nodded a hello to them.
“Laurent and I used to go fishing a lot in our college days.”
Sam’s wife elbowed him, while Laurent shook his head with a big smile on his face. Fishermen, huh? Tracee hated fishing. She ended this pleasant conversation by making sure everybody had everything they needed. She cleaned up the wet napkins and left the room to let the guests eat.
When she walked into the kitchen, her aunt Rita was pulling her carrot cake from the refrigerator and preparing to cut a few slices.
“How’s it going out there?” she asked.
Tracee nodded. “Smooth as usual.” She helped her aunt cut the cake and then started loading the dishwasher.
Tracee made a point not to return to the dining room for the rest of the brunch. Her aunt Rita handled the dessert, while Tayler cleared the table. Laurent Martin was an extremely handsome man. In his jogging clothes, or in casual attire, he had an unmistakable swag about himself. A swag that she wouldn’t be able to resist, given the opportunity. Thankfully, she wasn’t interested in somebody’s old fishing buddy, no matter how hot he was.
* * *
Four days in town, and Laurent still hadn’t been able to sit down with Mr. Patel to discuss business. In the meantime, he’d spent his days working remotely on projects that needed his attention, and looking over the Rival Hotel deal again. When he finally sat down with Mr. Patel, he would knock his socks off.
Meanwhile, he poured all his frustrations out on Sam as they sat at Nik’s Place, drinking beer on a Tuesday evening.
“Thanks for coming out with me, man. Sitting in a hotel for the last couple of nights watching television is not what I had in mind when I flew over here.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah, I know life in Danville is much slower than California, but I’ve gotten used to it. It’s a pretty cool place actually. Great for raising a family.” Sam cleared his throat. “You know, I have to admit that I’m surprised you’re not married by now. Even though we all liked to party back then, you always struck me as the serious type. I mean, half the time you brought your girl on our fishing trips.”
Laurent smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t found the right woman yet, or maybe I’m destined to be a bachelor—who knows. One day when the time is right, I’ll slow down long enough to really get to know somebody.”
Sam held up his beer bottle for a toast. “Well, enjoy the journey, my man.”
They clinked bottles. The sound of women laughing from the other side of the restaurant caught Laurent’s attention. The music was loud, but the women even louder. “Sounds like somebody’s having a good time,” he said. If Sam wasn’t married, Laurent would suggest they check it out, but times had changed.
“It sure does,” Sam replied as he turned in his seat to follow the ruckus with his eyes. Unfazed, he turned back around.
“So, how is married life?” Laurent asked. “Because man, I remember how you used to live for the weekends and parties. Remember how we used to drive up the coast partying with the girls up there? You were a beast, Sam!”
Sam smiled, but shook his head. “Man, I was searching for something and didn’t even know it. Once I hooked up with my wife, I didn’t even want to keep partying unless she was there with me. I’m telling you, man, she put something mighty powerful on me.”
“Hell, I can see that. Look where she’s got you. Not that this isn’t a cool place, but Danville, Kentucky! Come on, Sam, you don’t miss Cali at all? Or hanging out in the VIP room in Paris for a weekend?”
“Oh, I did at first. But I had my fill of a different woman every week. When you meet the right woman, your future will become crystal clear. Mark my words.”
Laurent finished off his beer. “Okay, but what does a single guy do around here for a good time? Because I haven’t met that woman yet.”
Sam shrugged. “He finds himself a good woman.”
“Well, considering I’m going to be here for such a short time, that’s not an option.”
“Then how about a day at the racetrack? Keeneland’s open all month for the fall meet. I don’t have any classes on Wednesdays.”
Laurent smiled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. A little horse racing while I’m here. Sure, let’s make it happen.” Laurent looked around. “Where’s the men’s room?”
Sam pointed. “Straight back on your left. Can’t miss it.”
“I’ll be right back.” Laurent walked through the restaurant toward the back. In a back corner, he found the group of loud women celebrating something. The table was decorated with balloons and gift bags everywhere. He only saw a few faces, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. He smiled to himself. He loved to see people enjoying life.
* * *
“Thank you all so much for remembering my birthday.” Tracee gave Mae, who was sitting next to her, a hug. She was one of the true friends Tracee had since moving back into town. While Tracee was in Louisville learning how to become a pastry chef, Mae had been in business school. She’d met her husband and become a successful businesswoman before losing everything in their divorce. But with Tracee’s help, she would bounce back.
“How could I not? The ladies of the book club wanted to surprise you.”
Tracee looked around. “And you did. Great food, great friends—this was nice.”
“And great liquor.” Mae picked up her glass of wine.
“Don’t talk about liquor. I need to run to the little girls’ room.” Tracee got up. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, but grab your jacket when you get back—we’re taking our drinks up on the deck. The music’s better up there.”
Dinner and drinks with the girls was great. This wasn’t the way Tracee usually celebrated her birthday, but money was tight now with Tracee’s Cake World taking every dime she had. Every one of the women celebrating with her was a customer, and everyone in the restaurant potential customers, she thought as she walked to the restroom.
After checking her lipstick and washing her hands, she shouldered the door open. The corridor leading to the bathrooms was well lit, and a man had walked out of the men’s room ahead of Tracee. Something about his body looked familiar.
He suddenly stopped and stepped back, stepping on her toe as two girls hurried past him headed for the bathroom.
“Ouch!” She jumped and pressed her hand
against his back.
“Oh, excuse me.”
Tracee hopped on one foot, while squeezing the other toes in her hand.
“I’m sorry, did I—?”
Mr. Rude. Tracee let go of her foot and straightened up. “Yes, you stepped on my toes.” He smiled, and Tracee’s heart fluttered. Why did he have to be so freaking handsome with those mesmerizing eyes and perfect lips?
“My apologies. I was trying to get out of the way. Looks like somebody had one drink too many the way they ran past.” Then he gave her a quick head-to-toe glance.
He recognized her, but she’d bet he didn’t remember her name. And she wasn’t going to bail him out. Laurent Martin—she remembered his name. She tilted her head and smiled. Either say something or get out of the way.
“Tracee, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
She crossed her arms. “So, you do remember my name. This is the third time in four days that I’ve seen you. Are you following me?”
His eyes widened, and he held his palms up. “No, ma’am. I’m just having a beer with a friend. I had no idea you’d be here.” Then he raised a brow. “I might ask you the same thing. Are you following me?”
She laughed. “Absolutely not.”
He lowered his hands. “If you say so.”
The way he smiled at Tracee, slightly bobbing his head to the music in the bar, sent a shiver through her body. This brother had to know he was a head turner even in a casual black T-shirt, jeans and those fly boots. He was probably used to women tripping all over themselves to get to him. She was about to open her mouth to say something when he pointed toward her head.
“What’s the occasion?”
She reached up and touched the crown she’d forgotten was pinned into the top of her hair. “Oh, it’s my birthday. It’s a book club thing. We pass the crown around for each person’s birthday. Kind of silly, I know.”
“That’s not silly—it sounds fun. And happy birthday.”
She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
“After you,” he said, pointing back into the bar.
Tracee led the way out. After a few steps, she stopped and was just about to say goodbye and rejoin her friends when he leaned in closer to her.
“You’ll have to let me buy you a birthday drink before you leave.”
She held her chin up. “I just might do that.” It would serve him right for ruining her cake if she ordered something expensive. “My friends and I are headed up on the deck if you’d like to join us. The music’s better up there,” she said, shocking herself. Why was she inviting this man to join her party when she didn’t know anything about him other than he was fine as hell?
He glanced back at the bar, and for the first time she realized he might be with a woman.
“I’ll see what Sam wants to do. You remember Professor Kane from Sunday brunch?” he asked.
Tracee looked around him and saw the professor sitting at the bar. His wife wasn’t with him. “Oh, yeah. Your fishing buddy. Bring him, too. The more the merrier. But I’ll warn you, my girls tend to get pretty lit up on the deck.”
Laurent chuckled. “That sounds like the place to be.” He glanced around him at the diners. “It’s getting pretty dead around here.”
“Then come on up,” she said with a wave. What the hell could it hurt? This little hen party is about to get turned up.
His smile gave her life.
When she walked back into their section of the restaurant, some of the girls had already started packing things to go upstairs. Tracee had opened her presents and they’d finished dessert. This crew was ready to get their groove on, on a Tuesday night.
“Wasn’t that the guy from the hotel Saturday morning?” Mae asked as Tracee reached the table.
Leave it to Mae not to miss a thing. “Yeah, that’s him. The same guy that showed up at Sunday brunch.”
“And he just happens to be in here tonight, too?” Mae asked, peeking around Tracee.
“Child, please, this makes the third time I’ve run into this guy. Coincidence, you think?” Tracee asked as she reached for her purse.
“Yeah, like maybe your paths were destined to cross. This is a small town, you know. Then again, he could be stalking you.”
Tracee laughed. “Well, if he is, he’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”
“Kind of! Oh, he’s very handsome. And he’s got a certain sex appeal about himself. What were you guys talking about, anyway?”
Tracee shrugged. “Nothing really. He asked about the crown, so I invited him to join us on the deck.”
Mae’s head rocked back. “No, you didn’t! The guy who ruined your cake?”
“Yep. Him and his professor friend. Come on, let’s get up there.”
Tracee slipped her jacket back on and followed the ladies to the deck, where there was music and an empty dance floor. Large heaters were placed around the perimeter to keep the chill away. Several tables were set up with a small bar and a DJ corner. One waiter sat talking to the DJ. All of Tracee’s presents and the ladies’ purses were deposited on one table while they hit the dance floor.
After a few minutes, more people from downstairs found their way up and joined in on the fun. Mr. Wood, who Tracee took all her dry cleaning to, even made it up with his wife. The middle-aged white couple were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary. Then Tracee saw Laurent as he reached the top of the stairs nodding his head to the beat, and she lost all her rhythm.
Chapter 5
Tracee stumbled over her own feet and bumped into one of her friends.
“Tina, I’m so sorry,” Tracee said with her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t take her eyes off Laurent. Right behind him was his friend Sam, who was good-looking as well, but happily married. Together they looked like trouble—in a good way.
Afraid she’d stumble again and embarrass herself, she left the dance floor and walked over to Laurent and Sam. “I see you made it up.”
Laurent gestured to his friend. “You remember Sam?”
Tracee accepted Sam’s outstretched hand. “Yes, I do.”
“Happy birthday,” Sam said.
“Thank you.”
A few more people came up the steps behind them.
“Maybe we should grab one of these tables before they’re taken,” Laurent said, as he walked over to the table next to Tracee’s and pulled out a chair.
Was he pulling out a chair for her? Such a gentleman. She hesitated, because she didn’t want her girls to think she was deserting them after all they’d done for her. Laurent merged the chairs, making one long table for six. She smiled and sat down.
One of her friends knew Sam, and they stood talking for a few minutes.
“What are you drinking?” Laurent asked as soon as Tracee sat down.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine, thank you.” She changed her mind about the most expensive thing on the menu.
“You’re welcome.” He walked over to the bar.
Two of her girlfriends came by to say good-night and give her another birthday hug. Tracee thanked them for everything.
Laurent returned with her glass of wine. “So, Tracee, tell me a little bit about yourself,” he said as he set the glass in front of her.
“Well, you know I work at the Coleman House bed-and-breakfast.”
“Yeah, Sam was telling me that’s a family-run establishment. Did your parents own it?”
“No, my cousins’ parents. Rollin and Corra, the owners, are my first cousins. I work there part-time, along with my younger sister, Kyla. As you’ve probably already guessed, I’m the pastry chef. I cook everything from desserts to side dishes.”
Laurent lowered his head. “Yeah, about the cake. I know I’ve apologized numerous times, but I want to let you know how happy I was when you said it didn’t ruin your presentation. How did you
pull that off?”
“I told the truth. They thought it was funny and wanted to taste the cake anyway. Thank God it hadn’t fallen out of the box. But all’s well that ends well.”
“So, you bake cakes for people outside the bed-and-breakfast?”
She reached into her purse, pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “Tracee’s Cake World. I was on the way to my first ‘official,’” she said, using air quotes, “cake tasting. And I needed that business. It’s going to help me open my own store.”
He read the card. “So you’re a professional?”
“I’m a professional pastry chef, yes. But I can cook just about anything you want.”
Laurent smiled at Tracee before turning up his beer bottle.
“So what do you do when you’re not fishing?” Tracee asked Laurent.
Laurent lowered his head and chuckled. “I’m a hotel brand manager.”
“What’s so funny?” she wanted to know.
He shook his head. “Nothing, I was just thinking about how much Sam used to love to go fishing.” Then he turned his seat around, facing her. “What do you do when you’re not in the kitchen baking up something sweet?”
Tracee sipped her wine. “I’m always in the kitchen baking something, or working on my business. But I also like to go to concerts in Lexington or Louisville.”
“Really! Who do you like to see in concert?”
“Oh, I have really eclectic taste in music. You probably won’t know anyone I name.”
“Try me.”
She set her wineglass down and gave him the side eye. She hadn’t met a man yet who enjoyed her eclectic tastes in music. “Okay, how about Sabrina Claudio.”
“Love her,” he responded.
“Okay, that was easy—everybody loves her. How about Masego? Or French Kiwi Juice?”
Laurent leaned back in his seat, bringing his brows together. “What do you know about French Kiwi Juice?”
She smiled. “Oh, I know jazz. I know he’s a multi-instrumentalist. I’m not too young to appreciate good music when I hear it.”