Cappuccino Kisses

by Yahrah St. John

  “Can’t I have just one?” EJ gave him his best puppy dog look.

  “Sorry, kid,” Everett said. “That doesn’t work on me, but good try. I promise we’ll have them after dinner.”

  “All right,” EJ replied. “How was your day, Dad?”

  Everett was surprised sometimes when his son inquired after him. He was supposed to be the parent, not the other way around. But Everett suspected that EJ was curious why pretty much all he did was work, then come home most nights. Everett didn’t have a social life to speak of.

  Occasionally he went out on a date with someone his parents or friends fixed him up with, but most of those fizzled when the women realized he wasn’t interested in marriage or commitment. They assumed he was in the market for a wife and mother for EJ, but were sorely disappointed by the end of the evening, or in some case by the second or third date, when they realized he wasn’t budging.

  It wasn’t as if he was still mourning for Sara. He’d finally gotten over the tragic loss and had picked up the pieces of his life. He just hadn’t been sure he was ready for another serious commitment, until today, when he’d seen Mariah Drayson. He wasn’t sure why meeting the woman had him reevaluating his stance on marriage and commitment, but he was.

  “Dad’s day was good,” Everett finally responded. “I found that new bakery.” He pointed to the box. “Has me thinking of new ideas.”

  “Like what?” EJ sat cross-legged on the ottoman and propped his head in his hands with rapt attention.

  “Like expanding our coffee business at the bakery.”

  The idea had come to him almost immediately as he’d watched the large crowd at the bakery. What if he offered Myers coffee there for folks to buy along with their pastries? It would be a win-win for both firms, but especially Lillian’s. Having the Myers brand for purchase on-site would only authenticate Lillian’s promise that they offered the best and highest quality of products, given that Myers coffee was available only in high-end restaurants and coffee shops throughout Seattle.

  “Sounds cool, Dad.”

  “Thanks, son.” Everett smiled. “How about we get cleaned up and have some dinner?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Everett only hoped that Mariah and her brothers approved of his idea. It was good business and it would also give him the opportunity to spend some time with Mariah and get to know her better. He knew his play was somewhat obvious, but if she wouldn’t agree to have dinner with him as a man, perhaps he could appeal to her as a business colleague. Time would tell.

  * * *

  “It was a wonderful turnout,” Shari Drayson told Mariah after all the guests had gone and they were cleaning up after the grand opening. “I’m sure Lillian’s of Seattle will be a great success.”

  “Thank you.” Mariah smiled from ear to ear. It was great to hear such high praise from her cousin, given that Lillian had entrusted the flagship location to Shari several years ago. Mariah greatly respected Shari not only as baker, but as a businesswoman. When she’d lived in Chicago, Mariah had sat in on one of the family board meetings, and she could see it wasn’t easy wrangling with all those personalities and big egos. But Shari did it with ease. Heck, she made it look simple, when Mariah knew it was the opposite.

  Her cousin Belinda hadn’t been happy with Lillian’s decision for Shari to run Lillian’s of Chicago. Mariah had always suspected that Belinda was Aunt Lillian’s favorite because she’d followed behind their aunt when she was a child and was always in the bakery as her helper. And even though Mariah was closer in age to Shari, she’d always favored Belinda, who was several years older, and she’d wanted to be just like her. Belinda had a great sense of style, dressed in designer duds and never went out of the house without her makeup on. It also hadn’t helped that Shari had gotten pregnant when she was in college, and had a son, Andre, while Mariah had been unable to conceive. Why was it so easy for some women to conceive without even trying, while she desperately wanted a baby and had struggled to get pregnant?

  “Mariah?”

  “Hmm...?” She drifted out of her reverie.

  “I was asking about your parents,” Shari said. “They didn’t seem excited by the opening.”

  Mariah nodded. “They don’t really support our endeavor, but that’s fine. I intend to prove them wrong. Show them that Chase, Jackson and I have what it takes to get the job done.”

  “That’s admirable,” Shari said. “But I have to tell you it’ll be a challenge, especially having two brothers involved.”

  “Because I’m a woman?” Mariah offered.

  Shari nodded. “Sometimes it’s hard for men to take direction from a woman.”

  “Was it like that for you in Chicago?”

  Shari chuckled. “That and then some,” she replied, “Everyone thought Carter, as the oldest grandchild, would have been chosen to run Lillian’s, but instead Grandma picked me. Why? Because I have the business acumen, with my degree, and the creativity, thanks to the cake mix idea I came up with, to run the front of the house at Lillian’s while Carter runs the back. And it’s also why she chose you for the helm here.”

  Mariah smiled. “How do you manage running the front of the house and baking? Because you make it look easy.” She’d already felt herself somewhat stressed at the prospect, even though she found it incredibly rewarding, more so than she ever had when she’d worked as an advertising executive.

  “It’s about balance,” Shari said, “Trust me, it’s not easy running the bakery business and being a wife and mother, especially now.”

  “Why now?” Mariah inquired. Unlike Jack, she had a healthy curiosity about her Chicago cousins and was eager to learn more about them.

  Shari rubbed her stomach and then looked into Mariah’s eyes with a huge grin, “Grant and I are expecting our second child. We’re about to make Andre a big brother.”

  All the air in the room seemed to vanquish, as if sucked out by a backdraft in a fire, and Mariah thought she might expire on the spot. Not that she didn’t wish Shari every happiness, but this was the last thing she wanted to hear.

  Yet there was nothing she could do except stand there and fake a smile, because Shari was still speaking.

  “We didn’t want to announce it yet,” she was saying, “until I was in my second trimester, but I think it’s safe now to tell the family.”

  Mariah pasted a smile onto her face even though deep down she knew it was less than genuine. She so desperately wanted to be in Shari’s place, pregnant with her own child, but it wasn’t in the cards for her. “That’s wonderful, Shari. I’m very happy for you.”

  “Anyway, it looks like we’re just about finished up here.” Her cousin glanced around the nearly empty kitchen.

  “Yes, it would appear that way,” Mariah responded.

  Carter had already quietly sneaked off, no doubt to call his wife, Lorraine Hawthorne-Hayes Drayson, who was at home with their twin boys in Chicago. Not only was Lorraine a twin herself, but apparently twins ran in her family. Given that Carter had been a committed bachelor, it had surprised the family when he’d wasted no time starting a family with the former debutante, whose career as one of Chicago’s most sought-after artists allowed her to stay at home with their boys.

  Mariah had hoped to spend more time with Belinda, but she had somehow disappeared, too. She was probably trying to catch Malik at the bakery, since he and her brother Drake were holding down the fort in Chicago.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Mariah headed toward the door, with Shari on her heels, and turned off the lights.

  As she locked up the bakery, it was hard for her to believe that she’d actually done it. She’d started her own business with her brothers’ help. Now what?

  Chapter 3

  Mariah was the first to arrive at the bakery the next morning. Unlike Chase, w
ho had a set morning routine of cardio and weight training, followed by a healthy breakfast, or Jackson, who was no doubt rolling out of bed late because he’d spent the night having too much fun with some unsuspecting female, Mariah didn’t have any of those options. She was alone.

  It wasn’t that she liked it that way. She’d loved being married and all that it had meant. She’d loved being Mrs. Richard Hems and being part of a couple, a unit and a partnership. She’d always thought her marriage would last. How wrong she’d been, Mariah thought as she opened the back door of the bakery.

  She couldn’t focus on that now. She knew it wasn’t healthy to keep looking back; she had to focus on other things. Namely, on baking all the breakfast goods that she hoped would be necessary for the morning rush. Aunt Lillian believed in providing the freshest baked products each day, so any unpurchased item was given away to a local shelter at the end of the night.

  Mariah quickly turned on the lights, grabbed her apron hanging on a hook nearby, and headed toward the kitchen to get down to business.

  Two hours later, she was wrist deep in flour when her brother Jack finally deigned to gift her with his presence. She’d already prepared the first batch of pastries, from cinnamon and pecan rolls to Danishes and croissants, for the breakfast rush. She was now starting on the triple berry, blueberry, lemon and orange scones that were a big part of their menu selection.

  “Look who finally decided to join me,” Mariah said, as he slowly made his way to the sink to wash his hands.

  “Don’t start, Ri,” he replied, using his nickname for her. When he was finished, he grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands.

  Mariah quirked her brow. “You were supposed to be here—” she glanced at her watch “—hours ago. I needed help. I haven’t even started on the muffins yet.”

  “I’m sorry, okay?” Jackson responded as he quickly grabbed several mixing bowls and ingredients for the muffins from the cabinets and refrigerator.

  She was surprised that for once he offered an apology instead of an excuse. “I presume you were with one of your admirers from the grand opening?” Mariah selected a handful of dough and set it on the already floured counter. She rolled the dough and used a scone cutter to cut out the pieces before placing them on a greased cookie sheet.

  Jackson gave her a sly smile. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

  “Well, a certain gentleman needs to set his alarm so he’s not late again. I can’t do this without you,” Mariah replied.

  “Duly noted. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “Nothing.”

  Jackson stopped mixing the dry ingredients and looked at his sister.

  Could he see that she hadn’t really slept that well? The strain of the previous day had caught up to Mariah. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had made her uneasy. Was it their parents’ less than enthusiastic response to the bakery opening? Or perhaps it was meeting that sexy stranger who’d caught her eye from the second she’d seen him strolling down the sidewalk, and turning down his offer of a date? Or maybe it was Shari revealing that she was pregnant yet again, when Mariah’s hopes of motherhood had been repeatedly dashed year after year during her five-year marriage? Maybe it was a combination of all three causing her lack of sleep. In any event, she’d been up with the roosters.

  “You’re frowning,” Jackson said. “Did something happen last night? Did you go out with Everett Myers?”

  Mariah spun around to face him. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Her brother shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe ’cause the guy was really feeling you and cock-blocked anyone from getting close to you during the party.”

  Mariah chuckled. She hadn’t realized that was what he was doing, but he had made his intentions clear, especially when he’d grasped her arm and damn near demanded she give him a tour of the bakery.

  “C’mon,” Jackson said, “I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been on that horse—the dating horse, that is—but even you can recognize a man’s interest in you.” When she didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Can’t you?”

  Mariah let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Of course I can. I’m not blind.”

  “Then why didn’t you give the brother a chance?” Jackson inquired.

  “I’m just not ready yet.”

  “Will you ever be?”

  Luckily, Mariah didn’t have to answer that question because the buzzer on the oven sounded, signaling that her second batch of pastries was ready. She scooted over to remove the delicious treats from the stove, effectively ending their conversation.

  They didn’t have a chance to pick up where they left off because their third baker arrived. Nancy Alvarez was a middle-aged woman with a background in the bakery business, and she knew her stuff. It had taken some convincing to talk Nancy into working for them, but once Mariah had sweetened the deal by making it part-time, with Mariah taking the early morning shift, she’d acquiesced.

  Among the three of them, they were able to get a lot accomplished, and were ready to open their doors at 7:00 a.m. for the breakfast rush.

  Since she’d been the first to arrive, Mariah left Jackson and Nancy in the kitchen while she attended to the front of the house. Customers slowly trickled in, wanting delicious baked goods, but eventually business took off and the morning sped by.

  Mariah was surprised when Jackson came to relieve her for a short break, so she could get off her feet and have a cup of much-needed coffee.

  Mariah went into the office and took a seat. She pulled off her comfortable flats and rubbed her aching arches. She hadn’t truly realized just how exhausting running a bakery could be, affecting not just her sleeping routine, but her feet.

  Owning and operating a bakery was hard work. The hours were long and the work tiring, but Mariah believed without risk there would be no reward.

  Chase hadn’t arrived yet. He typically didn’t show up until 9:00 a.m., and Mariah envied his banker’s hours from nine to five. He’d soon be scouring the pile of bills she’d seen sitting on his desk—invoices for the inventory of ingredients and equipment that it took to run Lillian’s. Money was constantly going out and they would need to start pouring some back in to ensure the firm’s viability.

  She was leaning back in the chair, strategizing on an advertising campaign that would help boost business, when Jackson poked his head into the room. “You have a visitor.”

  “Who is it?” she asked, looking up, but he was already gone.

  Mariah sighed. She didn’t have time for visitors. She needed to come up with a plan to get Lillian’s name out there. The reporter yesterday had been right when he’d indicated that Sweetness Bakery had a solid and long-standing reputation in Seattle and it would be hard to compete against them. But Mariah knew Lillian’s recipes were superior and that eventually they would succeed.

  Slipping her flats back on, she rose from her desk. After checking herself in the mirror that she’d installed in the office to ensure she would always be respectable before greeting the public, she headed out of the room.

  When she made it to the storefront area, only a handful of customers were munching on their baked goods at the small countertop and bank of tables. Most were probably enjoying the free Wi-Fi Lillian’s offered.

  Jackson gave her a wink as he dealt with a customer at the register. “He’s over there.” Her brother inclined his head toward the far side of the store.

  Mariah noticed a man kneeling in front of the display there, but she couldn’t tell who it was. But as she approached and he rose to his feet, there was no mistaking the visitor’s identity. It was none other than Everett Myers.

  Fortifying herself and letting a rush of air out her lungs, Mariah walked toward the counter. “Good morning,” she said with a smile. “May I help you?”

  He returned the smil
e. “Good morning, Mariah.”

  “Mr. Myers, what can I get for you this morning?” she asked, purposely using his last name as she turned around. She grasped two plastic gloves and opened the display case.

  He looked down at the pastries and then back up at her, penetrating her with his dark gaze. “Everything looks good.”

  The way he was gazing at her with such undisguised lust, Mariah doubted he was taking about the pastries. “Might I suggest the cheese Danish? We just baked them fresh.”

  “That would be lovely, but only if you join me?”

  “Join you?” Mariah squeaked. Her voice sounded small even to her. “I couldn’t possibly. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.”

  “Looks like your brother has everything under control. What could it hurt to take a break and keep me company?”

  He made it sound so simple that she should join him, and since resisting seemed only to incite his interest, as she’d learned yesterday, she said, “All right, but I can only spare a few minutes.”

  Everett glanced down at his watch. “A few minutes is all I have. And I will take your suggestion of a Danish along with a bottled water.”

  “Coming right up.” She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Everett was just a man. But why did he have to look so darn handsome in his charcoal-gray suit and crisp white dress shirt that perfectly fit his athletic physique? Mariah could only wonder what lay beneath the clothes as she reached for the pastry and placed it on a glass plate, which was Lillian’s signature. Aunt Lillian believed in serving people as if they were at her home, and not have them eat off paper or plastic. When she’d grasped a bottled water from the refrigerated case behind her, Mariah took the plate and mug to the table he’d secured.

  She couldn’t help but notice the smug smile Everett gave her as she left the display area, or the way his eyes roamed over her entire frame, taking her in from root to tip. “Here you are.” She placed the items in front of him.