A Splash of Vanilla
Copyright 2018 Bethany Lopez
Published November 2018
ISBN—9781728750712
Cover Design by:
Makeready Designs
Editing by:
Red Road Editing / Kristina Circelli
Proofreading by:
KMS Freelance Editing
Interior Design & Formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Young Adult:
STORIES ABOUT MELISSA—SERIES
Ta Ta for Now!
xoxoxo
Ciao
TTYL
With Love
Adios
Nissa: a contemporary fairy tale
New Adult:
FRIENDS & LOVERS TRILOGY
Make it Last
I Choose You
Trust in Me
Indelible
Contemporary Romance:
A TIME FOR LOVE SERIES
Prequel—1 Night
8 Weeks
21 Days
42 Hours
15 Minutes
10 Years
3 Seconds
7 Months
Novella—For Eternity
THE LEWIS COUSINS SERIES
Too Tempting
Too Complicated
Too Distracting
Too Enchanting
Too Dangerous—Coming Soon
THREE SISTERS CATERING
A Pinch of Salt
A Touch of Cinnamon
A Splash of Vanilla
Romantic Comedy/Suspense:
CUPCAKES SERIES
Always Room for Cupcakes
Cupcake Overload
Lei’d with Cupcakes
Cupcake Explosion
Women’s Fiction:
More than Exist
Short Stories:
CONTEMPORARY
Christmas Come Early
Harem Night
Reunion Fling
An Inconvenient Dare
FANTASY
Leap of Faith
Beau and the Beastess
Cookbook:
Love & Recipes
Love & Cupcakes
Children’s:
Katie and the North Star
Contents
A SPLASH OF VANILLA
Also by Bethany Lopez
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
Epilogue Two
Excerpt of Too Tempting
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To my fellow In The Loop Group Authors, thanks for your advice and support. I’m happy to be a part of a group of such wonderful women.
“HE’S GONE, PRIS.”
I was hiding in the pantry, as usual. It was my favorite place to hide, because not only could I shut myself in and get some time alone away from my sisters, but because there were snacks.
I could hear my mom talking, and since she said Pris, I knew she must be talking on the kitchen phone to her sister, Priscilla.
I scooted back farther into the pantry, shoving my small, eight-year-old frame into the corner, just in case she decided to open the door and look inside for something.
“I mean, he left . . . His clothes are gone, his office is empty . . . he’s gone. He left us,” my mom said, her voice getting high like it did when she was about to cry.
“He’s with her, I just know it.”
I wondered briefly who she was talking about, and why she sounded like she was about to cry, when she never cried, then went back to reading my favorite Nancy Drew book. I was getting to the good part and just had to know what happened next.
I had my flashlight, a bag of cheddar Goldfish, and a Yoo-hoo, I was good for at least an hour.
A couple chapters later, I heard movement right outside the door and looked up to see the handle slowly turning.
The door swung open and my twin sister, Millie, stood there. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess and her face was streaked with tears.
“What’s wrong, Mills?” I asked as she dropped to her knees and crawled toward me.
“Daddy’s gone,” she said, her breath hitching.
I put my book down and pulled her in for a hug.
Her body was shaking with sobs, so I rubbed my hand over her back, hoping it would help.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” I asked, my mind wandering back to my mom’s phone call with Aunt Priscilla.
Had she been talking about Daddy? And, if so, what did she mean by he’s with her?
“Daddy moved out, Dru. Tasha said she saw him get into his car this morning and it was full of boxes and suitcases.”
That night, Millie and Mom sat outside, waiting for Dad to come home, and this time my mom held Millie while she cried.
Tasha, our younger sister, refused to come out of her room. She didn’t eat dinner, take a bath, or even come out to watch TV.
I wasn’t angry like Tasha, or sad like Millie.
I was numb. I’d never been his favorite, that was Millie, or the one who got the best grades, that was Tasha. I’d spent my life feeling like I wasn’t good enough for him to pay attention to me, so his leaving didn’t really mean much to me.
If it had been our mother, well, that would have been different, but our father? I never
wanted to see him again.
Dru
I LOOKED AROUND THE BANQUET room, which we’d converted into a speakeasy for my twenty-ninth birthday party, and forced a smile.
Yes, it was perfect. Decorated exactly how I wanted, no, it actually turned out even more awesome than expected, but that didn’t change the fact that it was a party to celebrate my birthday, not mine and Millie’s.
It was the first year since birth that we hadn’t agreed on a theme, spent hours finding the perfect cake, and argued over who got to open presents first. This year, Millie had requested that we do separate birthdays, with each of us getting to choose our own festivities.
She’d opted to have a small lunch, with just us sisters, Millie, Tasha, and me, along with her boyfriend, Jackson. While I’d gone the more Dru-like route, with this big blowout.
I guess that had been Millie’s point, that she wanted something more low-key, and didn’t want to rain on my party parade, and although I’d said I understood and agreed, it had still hurt my heart.
Everything was starting to change, and I hated it.
Millie was falling for Jackson and had already brought up the fact that we needed to hire more help at Three Sisters Catering, and stop working ourselves to the bone. If things kept progressing, she’d be moving out of her apartment above our shop and in with Jackson, and that would just leave Tasha and me alone in ours.
It also turned out that Tasha had a love affair with Jericho Smythe, the owner of Prime Beef, the restaurant across from Three Sisters, and had kept it from us for years.
Since our mother had died and we’d started a business together, my sisters had been the glue holding me together. This sudden upheaval of my finally established life was making me twitch, and Millie’s suggestion to split up our birthday was the icing on a quickly crumbling cake.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, swinging my hips so my black fringy flapper dress swayed around my thighs, and tried to let the sound of Louis Armstrong lift my spirits.
“Care to dance?”
I looked up to see a handsome guy grinning down at me.
He was a friend of a client, easy on the eyes, and hell, it was my birthday, so I grinned back, tossed back my drink, and accepted his offered hand.
After a few more dances, and a lot more drinks, my smiles and laughter were becoming genuine, especially when I saw Jackson, decked out in an Elvis costume, pulling my twin through the room.
Although I was fearful of change, I did like Jackson for my sister. He was sweet, funny, and romantic . . . exactly what Millie deserved.
And, since I knew he was about to surprise her with a trip to Graceland for her birthday, I couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of how happy she was going to be. Millie had an Elvis obsession and Graceland was on her bucket list. She was going to be over the moon.
I danced until my feet hurt, and drank until I realized how much I loved everyone.
It wasn’t until Jackson and Millie were trying to wrangle Tasha and me up the stairs that my fears came back tenfold.
Our mom had been gone for over a year, Millie was going to fall in love with Jackson, get married and have babies, and Tasha was probably going to get back together with that Jericho guy, even though they hadn’t spoken to each other in years.
Where did that leave me?
I was sitting outside my door while Jackson and Millie tucked Tasha’s drunk self into bed, dozing in and out as I struggled to grasp the thoughts flitting through my foggy brain.
“You hold her up and I’ll open the door,” I heard Millie say, and then I was being lifted and shuffled across the threshold and into my apartment.
I cleared my throat and looked up at Jackson as an idea hit me.
“That guy who found your wife . . .” I began.
“Mick,” Jackson supplied.
“Yeah, him . . . do you think he could find our dad?” I asked, then clamped my mouth shut when Millie came back in the room.
Jackson’s soon-to-be ex-wife was a dead-beat mom. She’d left Jackson and their daughter, Kayla, and had essentially disappeared. Wanting to find her and get a divorce, Jackson had hired a private investigator.
I let Millie usher me into bed and get some aspirin and Gatorade in me, then feigned sleep so that she’d leave.
Once she was gone, I got back up on shaky legs and went to my desk.
I pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down everything I remembered about our father, the last time I’d seen him, and the bits of information I’d heard my mom and aunt say about him over the years.
Millie, Tasha, and I had agreed years ago that we never wanted to see him again. Heck, it had been years since we’d even mentioned his existence, and I knew they would not be on board with me looking for him now.
So, I decided not to mention it. Not yet anyway. I’d get the info from Jackson and contact this Mick, then, if he was found, I’d tell them.
Our father had left our mom years ago to begin a relationship with the woman he’d cheated on her with. For all I knew, we could have more siblings out there. Sure, our dad was a creep, and I had no interest whatsoever in meeting the adulteress he’d left us for, but maybe we had more family out there that we didn’t even know about . . . which would be kinda cool.
And, maybe, just maybe, I could find out why he left us without so much as a backwards glance.
I stood up and gave a decisive nod.
I was going to do it.
Mick
“YEAH, I CAN DO THAT. I’ll be there after I get some work done. And, Heeler, congrats, man,” I said, then disconnected the call.
Jackson Heeler was a client-turned-friend, who’d just gotten back from a trip to Graceland with his woman, Millie. He’d called to tell me that they’d gotten engaged and were throwing an impromptu celebration, friends only, tonight at the bar.
I wasn’t the kind of guy who did engagement parties and weddings, but I could get down with having a few drinks and playing pool with friends.
I’d hung out with Jackson and his buddies a couple times since I’d closed the case on finding his worthless ex. They were a good group of guys, and their women were funny and cool, so I usually accepted Heeler’s offer to hang out, as long as I didn’t have a job to do, or a woman of my own to entertain.
“Who was that, Michael?”
“My buddy, Jackson. He and his lady just got engaged, so I’m meeting up with them later,” I told my mother as I crossed the small room she called home.
“Hmmm, must be nice, having a son who’s ready to settle down with a good woman and have children.”
I shook my head, but couldn’t hold back a grin.
“Real subtle, Ma.”
My mother shrugged, her too-skinny shoulder protruding from the fabric of her well-worn nightgown.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked as I helped her ease into her favorite chair.
“There’s a pinochle tournament this afternoon, and tonight they’re showing Moonstruck, with Cher, in the rec room,” she replied, taking the remote I offered and turning on the TV.
She stopped on one of the court room shows she liked and I went to fill her water bottle with sweet tea.
“You gonna go?” I prodded, biting back a curse when I saw she was low on Little Debbie Snack Cakes. I’d forgotten to pick some up on my way over.
“I don’t know. Last time I played pinochle, I swear Robert was cheating. Ain’t no fun playing with a cheater.”
I chuckled as I handed her the drink.
“You know, if you move in with me, I’ll teach you how to cheat at cards,” I said, trying the same thing I did every time I came to visit, to get her to leave this damn home and stay with me where she belonged.
“You better not be cheating at cards, Michael O’Donnelly, I raised you better than that,” she chastised.
I crouched on the floor next to her and took her hand in mine.
“Come on, Ma, let me take care of you. You deserve better than t
his place.”
I ignored the fact that my mom’s eyes got misty, cause she’d be pissed if I pointed it out, and squeezed her hand gently.
“This place is fine, son. I have friends, my own space, and as much Jell-O as a person could ever want. You need to be on your own, havin’ space to bring a good woman home too, not sharing that place with your mother.”
She pulled her hand from mine, then patted the top.
“Any woman worth my time would understand that you deserve a place in my home. After all, I had a place in yours for almost twenty years,” I argued, knowing she was going to reject me just like she had ever since deciding to sell the home she’d lived in for sixty years and moving into this assisted living home.
“I love you, Mickie,” my mom said, turning her attention back to the TV and effectively ending the conversation until next time.
“I love you, too, Ma,” I replied, standing up and going to make her bed.
I straightened up her room, like I did during every visit. Made sure she had a few paperbacks on her nightstand, a drawer full of Jolly Ranchers, and a full pitcher of sweet tea.
“I’ll run by the store tomorrow and stock you up. Any requests?” I asked as I grabbed my phone and keys off of the counter.
“My Little Debbie’s . . . oh, and I’m running low on body wash.”
“Okay.”
I bent to kiss her cheek.
“Call if you need anything.”
“Have fun at your party tonight.”
I nodded at the front desk attendant as I signed out, then walked outside and took a deep breath. I hated the smell of that place. Hated the fact that my mom would rather live there than come home with me. But, my ma had always been a strong and independent woman, and there’s no way I’d take the choice away from her and make her move.
Didn’t mean it didn’t suck every time I left her in that place.
I was about to climb up in to my beat-up old Army Jeep, when my phone rang. I checked the screen, saw it was an unknown number, and pressed accept.
“O’Donnelly,” I said in greeting, figuring it was gonna be business.
“Hi, uh, Mick, I mean . . . Michael O’Donnelly? My name is Dru, I got your number from Jackson. Jackson Heeler,” the woman on the other side said.
A Splash of Vanilla (Three Sisters Catering Book 3) Page 1