by Tina Martin
“Do you know her personally?”
“In a way. She’s a friend of my mother’s,” he said, closing the door as they entered the house.
They continued on to the kitchen to see that Harriet was quick to start working. She was standing at the stove, stirring the stew.
“I didn’t want it to get scorched,” she said, glancing over to Gianna. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” Harriet said.
“So, Harriet, you’ve met Gemma,” Ramsey said.
Harriet looked at Gemma. “Yes, I have. We’re going to get along just fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Ramsey said, looking at Gianna. “As I was telling you, Gianna, Harriet is a friend of my mother’s.”
“Yes,” Harriet said. “Me and Bernadette go way back. I used to be Ramsey’s grandmother’s caretaker until she passed away.”
Ramsey nodded. “Harriet is a certified nurse aide. She knows CPR, the Heimlich maneuver…she can do it all. And she’ll take Gemma back and forth to her appointments. Is that okay with you, Gemma?”
Gemma nodded. “Yep.”
“And I’ll cook, clean...I’m here to make both of your lives easier,” Harriet said. “Ramsey has already given me an overview of what a typical day for you is like.”
“A typical day for—for me?” Gianna asked, glancing at Ramsey.
He winked at her. Smiled.
“Yes, Gianna,” Harriet replied. “I took the liberty of making a schedule.” Harriet searched through her shoulder bag and pulled out a notebook, reading off plans for Gemma. She’d already written detailed, daily schedules that included a variety of activities so Gemma could get out during the day and not lie around sleeping for hours upon hours at a time. She needed this. To stay active in conjunction with healthy eating.
“This is…wow. This is just what Gemma needs, Harriet.”
“Perfect,” Harriet said. ‘‘When should I start?”
“Um...uh…”
“I’m available tomorrow if you would like me to start right away,” Harriet said.
“That’ll be fine with me,” Gemma chimed in to say.
Gianna smiled nervously. “Okay, then I guess I’m fine with it.”
“Good,” Ramsey said bringing his hands to a clap. “Gianna, what time do you head to the bakery in the mornings? I told Harriet between seven and seven-thirty.”
“Yeah. That’s when I usually leave.”
‘‘Okay, so Harriet, to be on the safe side, can you be here at seven?” Ramsey asked.
“I sure can. Oh, and I’ll take care of breakfast and everything. You don’t have to worry about a thing, Gianna.”
Ramsey looked at Gianna and saw the moment her chest rose and lowered slowly.
“It’s okay, Gianna.” Ramsey threw an arm around her, pulling her close to him.
“I know. I’m just a little nervous,” she replied. “Thank you so much, Harriet.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can you stay for dinner?” Gianna asked.
“Oh, honey, I already cooked, but thanks for the offer.” Harriet slid the folder back into her bag.
“I haven’t eaten,” Ramsey said with his arm still around Gianna. Then lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “I don’t hear you inviting me to dinner.”
Gianna blushed and felt warm all over at his whisper. “Okay, Ramsey. Would you like to stick around for dinner?”
“I would love to, Cupcake.”
Harriet smiled. She could see right away that Ramsey had a fondness for Gianna. “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Thanks again for stopping by, Harriet,” Gianna said.
“Yes. Thank you, Harriet,” Gemma added.
“You’re welcome,” Harriet responded as Gianna opened the door for her, watching as she headed down the stairs and to her car. Gianna closed the door after Harriet drove off.
Back in the kitchen now, she watched as Ramsey stirred the stew. She smirked. “And just what do you think you’re doing with your non-cooking self?”
He glanced back at her. “Just stirring. It’s about all I can do when it comes to food.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” Gianna looked at Gemma. She was quiet and her arms were crossed like she was cold. “Are you okay, Gem?”
“Yeah, but I think I’ll take my soup to my room. Can you…can you fix me a bowl?”
“Sure, babycakes.”
Gianna took a bowl from the cabinet and added a serving of stew to it. Then she walked to the table and helped Gemma up.
“Goodnight, Ramsey,” Gemma said. “I’ll probably pass out after I finish this soup.”
Ramsey cracked a smile. “Goodnight, Gemma.”
Once she was inside of her bedroom, Gemma said softly to Gianna, “Okay, I’m not all that tired...just wanted you two to have some time alone to talk.”
“You sneaky, little rascal,” Gianna said, amused.
“Now, go. Talk and keep that weird crap you do at bay.”
Gianna shook her head as Gemma sat on the bed. ‘‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Gemma.”
“You ought to be thanking your lucky stars that this man has come into your life.”
Gianna briefly reflected on that. Ramsey was a customer and now, he was a – a friend. “Enjoy your stew. If you need anything, just yell.”
“I won’t need anything,” Gemma said smiling all sneaky. “Now get back out there, Stella, and try to get your groove back. Well, you can’t get back what you never had, so just, um…just try to do something. Good grief.” Gemma laughed.
Gianna smirked, shook her head and continued towards the door.
Ramsey’s eyes locked on her as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.” Gianna washed her hands, then started preparing grilled cheese sandwiches.
Leaning against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles, he watched her work.
She glanced over at him. “So, you really don’t know how to cook?”
“No. I have a live-in housekeeper, who’s also my cook. And he runs errands for me. Schedules appointment. I guess maybe you can call him my personal assistant.”
“And you have another assistant at work?”
“A secretary. Yes.”
“Right,” Gianna said, placing a skillet on the stove after which she added a spoonful of butter. She added two cheese sandwiches to the pan and let both sides of the bread cook until they were golden brown. Then after those two sandwiches were finished, she added two more, allowing them to brown to perfection before turning the stove off. She filled two bowls with stew and brought them over to the table.
Ramsey walked there and sat down.
“What would you like to drink, Ramsey?” He looked over at her as she stood near the refrigerator. Would he ever get tired of hearing her say his name?
“Ramsey?”
“Water will be fine.”
She also got water for herself, then walked over to the table.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
She tasted the stew, deciding to sprinkle in a little salt and pepper. Then she broke off a piece of the grilled cheese sandwich, dipped it into the bowl and took a bite.
“Ah, so that’s how you do it. Okay.” Ramsey copied her, taking his first bite of the only meal he’d ever eaten of hers. Well, he had her cupcakes before, but that wasn’t a meal. Plus, as it turned out, most people who could bake cakes and pastries weren’t necessarily good at cooking real food. Gianna proved to be one of those people who could do both. “This is outstanding.”
She grinned. “It’s not all that.”
“It is. Who taught you how to cook?”
“I taught myself. I learned how to bake from the bakery I worked at prior to opening my own bakery.” Gianna watched him chew, enraptured by the movement of his mouth – his lips – but when he glanc
ed up at her, she looked away, stirred her soup and began eating again.
“Speaking of the bakery, how was work today?” he inquired.
“It was busy. I was baking nonstop.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep.”
“What was the cupcake of the day?”
“Strawberry shortcake. I sold thirty-six in one hour. That’s like a new record for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so busy.”
He took a sip of water. “That’s good though, right?”
“Wait…what did you do, Ramsey?”
He laughed. “What do you mean?”
“Your dimple is showing and you look like you’ve been up to something.”
“Is that right?” he asked. “You know me well enough to know when I’m up to something?”
Playfully narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What did you do?”
He took another sip of water. “I may have taken out a few ads for the bakery in Charlotte Magazine and The Observer.”
Her eyes brightened. “You may have?”
“Okay. I did.”
“Why?” she asked excitedly, but thoroughly confused. Felicity was the only person who helped her out with bakery-related work. No one else. For him to step in and do these things for her – to help her mop floors, sweep and now take out ads – was blowing her mind.
He shrugged and ate the last of his grilled cheese. “Do you mind if I get another?”
“I’ll get it for you,” Gianna said, standing.
“No. Sit down. Eat. I’ll get it…may as well get some more stew while I’m up.” He walked over to the stove where she’d left the sandwiches and asked, “Would you like another?”
“No, thanks. I can usually get through one bowl with one grilled cheese.”
When he sat down again, she looked at him and asked, “I’m not letting you off the hook. Why are you doing all of this, Ramsey? One thing I did learn from my mother was, ain’t nothing free in this world. So, tell me…what do you want?” She sipped water while waiting for his answer.
And she waited. And waited…
“Well?” she asked.
He hesitated – not for himself but for her – because he knew she wouldn’t expect the answer he was going to give. But her inquisitive brown eyes wanted an answer, so he was going to give it to her. “You,” he finally said.
“Huh?” she asked, before taking the last spoonful of soup.
“I said, I want you.”
Gianna choked, leaned forward with her left hand on her chest and the right covering her mouth.
“Are you okay?” Ramsey asked, standing.
Gianna was steadily coughing, heaving.
“Gianna?”
She held up a finger while still coughing a little. When she was able to clear her passageway again, she said roughly, “I’m fine.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Your answer just took me off guard.”
He sat down again but didn’t touch his food. He just looked at her. “Since you’re fine, let’s talk about it. What if what I wanted was you, Gianna?” he asked with arrogance in his eyes.
“Stop playing games with me. You already made me choke once.”
“Why won’t you answer the question?”
“Because it’s absurd.”
“It’s not absurd. Your friend Felicity has turned this very idea into a business and sold it to prospective clients. It can’t be all that bizarre, now can it?”
“Either way it goes, I don’t know you like that, and you don’t know me well enough to know if you want me…whatever that means. And Felicity’s business is Felicity’s business. It has nothing to do with me.”
“I see.” His eyebrows raised briefly before he started eating again, taking spoon after spoon to his mouth. She would find out soon enough that her friend’s business did have something to do with her, especially after Felicity met with her on Friday.
Deciding to test the limits of his persuasion, he said, “A moment ago, I told you I wanted you. Are you telling me I can’t have you?”
Her palm was so sweaty, the spoon slid right out of her grasp. “Describe your definition of want?”
He stared at her lips when he responded, “You know. Want.”
“As in?” she probed further.
As in I want you and all the peculiar ways that come along with the package. I want to stare at your face until you dissolve into my mind. I want to smell you. Bathe in the aroma of your sweetness. To kiss those sweet lips. To hold you close to me like I did last night, but I don’t want to hold you for only one night. I want you forever. I want to laugh with you. Cry with you. I want to be the man you run to. I want to be your rock. Your protector. Your provider. I want whatever your heart desires.
“Okay. I’ll be more specific,” Ramsey said. “I want you for companionship.”
“That encompasses a lot, don’t you think?”
You have no idea. “Yes, it does.”
Gianna glanced at him and looked away. For some reason, she was seeing in his eyes things he wouldn’t say. She could tell, right away, that he was holding back. “Well, I couldn’t do something like that.”
“We’re doing it right now. Sharing a meal together. Companionship. We shared a meal last night. Companionship. You fell asleep in my arms.” And that was the best feeling in the world.
“You’re right. I did, but I don’t have time for companionship or dating, or anything related to the two.”
“Because you never make time for yourself.” He wiped his mouth after finishing up the second bowl of stew.
“You’re right. I’ll acknowledge that. I don’t make time for myself.”
“Do you think that’s fair?”
“Fair?” she asked, meeting his direct gaze. Breaking away from it, she stood up to collect their bowls. While taking them to the sink, she asked, “When has anything in life ever been fair? Besides, I don’t have time to think about myself when my sister is—” She stopped short of saying dying, but somehow she felt Ramsey knew where she was going. Changing the subject, she turned around and asked, “Didn’t you say you lived in Lake Norman?”
“Yes, but not in the actual lake. The city.”
“I know that, silly.” A smile grew on her face.
He liked that. That’s what he was aiming for. A smile.
“You drove all the way here from Lake Norman, just to introduce me and Gem to Harriet?”
“Yes. I make the drive all the time since my business is here.”
“I know, but I’m talking about today. You’re off work, so you really didn’t have to drive here just to introduce us.”
“I know. I did it because I wanted to. Because I like you, and I got dinner out of the deal, so I see it as a win-win.”
Gianna smiled. “Well, I hate to put you out, but I have to get up early tomorrow for work.”
Ramsey rolled his arm to glance at his watch. “It’s only a few minutes after nine.”
“Yeah, and I still need to shower and get to bed. I’m sure I’ll have a busy day tomorrow thanks to you.”
“I’m sure you will,” Ramsey said standing. He walked over to where she’d been standing – by the sink. He didn’t sneak up on her this time. In fact, she was watching him, scrutinizing him as he approached as if readying herself for whatever it was she anticipated he’d do. “May I hug you?”
Her face flushed. “Umm…let me think about it.”
“You don’t have time to think. You’re kicking me out, remember? Now, can I get my hug, please?” he asked, taking another step forward.
“You may,” she answered. If she could handle being in his arms last night, couldn’t she tolerate a brief hug? Then again, she was asleep last night. Right now, she was wide awake, fully aware of what was about to happen.
Help me, Jesus.
When his thick, muscly arms closed around her, her senses fully awakened at the feel of his strength capturing her. At
his body reeling her in. He squeezed her firmly to his chest. Her body shook, but not enough to where she would be embarrassed. And it wasn’t her fault he was so freakin’ handsome. That he was a tower of muscles. That his pheromones rendered her weak-kneed.
“Have a good night’s rest, sweetness.”
“I’ll try,” she said as he released her. “You have a good night, too, driving back in the lake—I mean to the lake. To Lake Norman.”
“I will.” And I’ll be thinking about you all the way home.
Chapter 5
The rain wasn’t slacking up which meant Gianna would have to make a run for the rear entrance of the bakery. She’d forgotten to bring an umbrella today. She was distracted, well more like excited that Harriet was at the house this morning, eager to take care of Gemma. And she’d been so busy telling Harriet where everything was, giving her reminders about Gemma’s medication, that it slipped her mind to grab the umbrella from the coat closet. It wasn’t raining when she left the house. The sky was actually misleading – partly sunny like there could be a slight chance of rain. The kind of weather where meteorologists claim there’s a ten percent chance of rain just to cover their behinds but nothing usually happens.
Today, something happened. It was pouring buckets – raining so hard the drops pummeled the roof of her car like they were seeking entry. The ominous sky was varying colors of gray and thunder rumbled and clapped while lightning sliced through the darkness. It was morning time, almost eight o’clock, but it looked more like night.
Gianna sighed, searching her car for something she could use to cover her head. This was one of those days that, as an adult, you should have the right to stay in bed if you wanted to like it was a Federal holiday. God knows she could’ve used the sleep. Now, she was about to get drenched trying to get inside the building. How was she going to work in soaked clothes?
“Okay, Gianna…you just have to make a run for it,” she said, talking to herself – more like talking herself into doing it. She had a lot of work to do today, and she definitely couldn’t get any of it done by sitting in the car. But she didn’t want to get soaked on the way to the door. Ugh. She cringed at how uncomfortable it would be, but she had to do what had to be done. She didn’t have much choice in the matter.