Whipped Cream Dreams (Book 1 of The Sweet Treats Series)
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
By
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks or pictures used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
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EDITED BY
Cover Art:
© 2014, Jamallah Bergman
Well, I have so many people to thank so let’s start….
I want to thank Anya Kelleye of Anya Kelleye Designs for designing my amazing cover for this series. You brought out my idea of Callion and Roya to life and I am deeply grateful for you making it come true on this cover. I also thank you for your friendship. Over the years, you’ve been an amazing and wonderful friend, Puddin Pop!
To Grigoris Drakakis, my handsome muse for Callion. I want to thank you for being so helpful to me as well as always being such a sweetheart to others as well. I hope to get the chance to meet you one day and get a big hug from you.
To my Leanore, thank you so much for always being there for me when I needed to vent to someone or get some well needed helpful advice on anything. You’ve been such a treasure in my life and I don’t know what I would do without you in it. Thank you Leanore Elliott for being one of my best friends.
And of course, I cannot leave out my good fans…thank you for being here for me through thick and thin. For enjoying all of my stories which have meant a lot not only to me but to others who have read their pages and walked in the shoes of the characters that have been in them.
Thank You!
Chapter One
“Could you bring me some more cream?” A young woman asked who wore a red shirt with a Coca Cola emblem.
“Sure can.” I smiled while walking back to the counter.
The Brownstone Café was the hub of our little town of Stockton. A place where you could get a good cup of coffee or a cappuccino or espresso, along with a cream cheese Danish. Most of the younger people would come during the week while the weekend would be packed with people coming to hear poetry readings on Saturdays. On Sundays however, the older set from town would come after church to grab a cup of coffee and talk about town gossip. Mainly pertaining to the younger people, who they seemed to think didn’t do much of anything, even though they had jobs.
I would hear about this constantly because I’m the head waitress here at the Brownstone. My name is Roya. Roya Charles and I can say, not only am I the head waitress here, but I’m also well-liked by most of the community.
“Here you go,” I brought the small white ceramic creamer container over to the table. Looking around, I noticed a couple about to leave and headed over to clear the table. “Have a great day. Are you guys coming back for the poetry reading at eight?”
“We’ll try to for sure. See ya, Roya,” she answered with a smile as she put down a tip for yours truly.
After cleaning off the table, I went to take the cups to the kitchen in the back to be washed.
Today was Saturday, so the place was abuzz with activity since at eight it would be poetry night. The place would be busier than ever because not only would some of the poets from town be here, but also from the Fredrickson and Hartwell, which were the towns on either side of our little hamlet. It seemed that Brownstone Café had become a spot for finding talent, ever since Abernathy Collins was discovered reciting a poem, he wrote. What no one knew was that a critic had come to town to visit family. They came to Brownstone to grab a coffee and listen to some poetry. He loved hearing Abernathy so much, that he ended up calling up some friends of his who dealt in the music industry.
Now, Abernathy Collins is a well-known songwriter and poet.
Ever since word got out, people would flock to the Brownstone Café, praying and hoping that they would get discovered. “Hey, Roya!” Marsha, another waitress shouted.
Walking over to her I asked, “Did you refill all of the sugar?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted to tell you the handsome Greek God is coming today. He called, asking, did we have the zucchini bread muffins available, since we sold out of them yesterday. I told him we did and he’s on his way over.” She squealed with delight over telling me.
I tried not to react, but just thinking about the fact that this man was coming over made my heart skip a beat.
Now, let’s get something straight here…the ‘Greek God’ in question is Callion Nicolo. And when we say he looks like a Greek God, we actually mean it. Even though he normally has his head in a book. He owns the local bookstore, A Second Look and it’d been very popular with everyone, especially the women in town. When the door opened, I instantly looked over.
The Greek God walked into the café.
My God, he was handsome, even while wearing just a pair of blue jeans and a dark navy pea coat jacket, since it was starting to get a bit colder. His hair looked a bit tousled. Almost jet black and he would always have to move it away from his glasses. His solid cut features with etched cheekbones and a firm jawline showed him to be the strong and silent type. He sat down at one of my tables.
This lucky happenstance made me feel a bit giddy as I grabbed my pad to take his order. Taking a deep breath, I continued to stare at him.
He unbuttoned his coat and took it off, revealing a black long sleeved shirt that exhibited every well defined muscle along his chest and arms.
When I got to his table, he put his coat on the back of his chair and gazed at me with a smile that literally made my knees buckle.
“Hello, do you know what you’d like to order?”
“A zucchini bread muffin along with a café au lait please.” His voice sounded deep and husky
It went completely through me, down my throat and along my chest, making my nipples hard where the very vibration from it soon settled between my legs. Lord, let me leave him before I make a fool out of myself! “Alright I’ll be back shortly.” I noticed Marsha give me that smile that made her look like some giddy fan of someone famous.
“Isn’t he handsome or what?”
All I could do was smile while going to make his café au lait. He would always get the same thing every visit….a café au lait and a zucchini bread muffin. Sometimes, he would call in before he came to see if we had the muffins available and when they weren’t, he wouldn’t show up, not even for the coffee. Once the coffee was brewed and I started to make his café au lait, I decided to do up a design. I made him a pretty flower on top as I got a muffin from the display case. Putting them on the tray, I grabbed a spoon and made my way over to him.
He’d already started reading a book.
“Here we go your muffin.” I put the muffin in front of him. “And your café au lait.”
He gaz
ed up at me with a smile and then back down to the cup. “Thanks for the design, I like flowers.”
Giving him a smile I said, “You’re welcome. If you need anything else, let me know.” I continued with my daily routine of making sure the customers were taken care of. Ensuring that the tables were cleared, giving them a friendly ‘hello’ when they came in and a friendly ‘goodbye’ once they left. I would peek over from time to time, to see what he was doing.
Always the same scenario…..he sat there, legs crossed at the ankle while he attentively read his book. From time to time, he would over to his cup, taking it and slowly blowing on it before he would take a long sip. He would also take a bite of the muffin, while still reading his book. It seemed to captivate his attention, more than the fact that most of the women in the café wanted his attention to be on them instead.
When I saw that he’d finished off his muffin, I walked over and asked, “Would you like another muffin?”
He didn’t say a word much less look at me, only at that blasted book of his. When I tried to read the binder, I couldn’t understand it because it was in Greek.
Finally, he did look up and smile. “Yes, please,”
I took the saucer and made my way over to the display case.
Once again, Marsha glanced over at me with that smile. “How’s it going?”
“How’s what going?” I looked at her like she was crazy but I smiled when she did. “Honestly, there isn’t much going on. As you can see, he’s too much into his book. I’m surprised he didn’t see that one girl pass by his table three times.”
It’s kind of funny how one man could make a group of women look and act like fools. Whenever I would see him come in, it seemed like every single women gravitated towards him as if he gave off some scent that made him irresistible. Like the woman I was talking about, the one that walked by his table at least three times. Well, the first time she walked by, she smiled over at him.
Nothing.
The second time, she came by and bumped into his table and he did move….about an inch but never looked up from that book.
The third and final attempt to gain the Greek God’s attention came with her and a friend going to the bathroom and this time, she got to finally hear him say something when she asked him what time it was.
Even though there was a huge clock on the brick wall.
He acted cordial because I guess at this time, he knew what was going on and he smiled, glanced at his watch and told her the time—then continued with his book once more.
When I came back over to his table once more, he looked at me and said, “I’m sorry but can I just get a bag for that muffin, I’ve got to go.” He took another few sips from his cup as he got up from the small table.
“Sure, just come with me and I’ll ring you up at the register.” We both walked back to the counter. I went and grabbed a white paper back and put his muffin in it. Going into my apron pocket, I pulled out my order ticket and totaled it up along with the extra muffin.
“Do you know what time the poetry reading will be tonight?” he asked.
“It’s at eight o’clock. Are you going to read some poetry tonight?”
He gave me a half smile.
I must have embarrassed him because he was starting to blush a bit. “I just might, I have a friend of mine coming into town who does poetry too and he told me that he would help me out. I will be reciting a poem in Greek and he’ll interpret it for me.”
“Oh, I know a lot of people would enjoy that. It will be something totally different for sure.”
“Really?”
“Of course, because we’ve never had a poet come and recite something in another language before. So yeah, it would be something entirely different. Your total is going to be eight seventy four.” I smiled as he handed me the credit card he ‘d already taken out of his wallet. Once I slid it through the credit card reader, waited for the receipt to come up, I tore it off, putting it on the counter along with a pen to sign.
He scribbled something down that looked more like something a doctor would put down as a signature on a prescription. Then where it had said ‘tip’, he gave me a five dollar one.
“Thanks for the tip,”
“You’re welcome. Listen, are you going to be here tonight for the reading?”
“Of course, I’m going to be working until closing. I’ll be here to listen to your poem.”
He smiled, grabbed his bag and walked away.
I put the receipt into the drawer of the register and continued with my day, as another group of people came into the café, “Welcome to Brownstone Café!” I greeted as I went back over to his table to clear it off.
“So, he’s going to recite a poem?” Marsha asked.
“That’s what the man said and you were standing right beside me, pretending to be wiping down that counter.”
“Well, I know where I’ll be after work! Right here, listening to him recite that poem. Have you ever thought about how hot it would be having him talk to you in Greek, whispering something in your ear?”
I looked over at Marsha, seeing that far off look on her face, like she’d been thinking about the idea. All I could do was laugh a bit, because I found it rich, how many of these women would fawn over him. “Honestly, you need to stop.” I walked away from her.
She continued right behind me, as we both went into the supply room. I needed to get some more napkins and straws.
“I’m serious Roya. I mean haven’t you ever thought about that too?”
“Well, of course I’ve thought about it. He’s a very handsome man, who wouldn’t be fawning after the guy?” I told her handing her the small bag of straws as I grabbed hold of a package of napkins. “I need for you to refill the straw and napkin dispensers before you leave.”
“Alright then.”
We both walked out as I went back to my duties once more. I needed to make sure that were going to have enough of everything for tonight. When people came here on Saturday’s, we would end up running out of everything. Even though I got well prepared for my servers, it seemed like we were never stocked well enough. But I planned on making sure this time.
“Is there anything else you need me to do besides the napkins and the straws?”
“Um, no I don’t think so. I know that the other girls that will be coming in will be able to handle everything else. You go on and finish up, so you can leave.”
With that, Marsha continued with her work.
I wiped down near the espresso machines and I really felt glad to end the conversation about Callion. Lord knows that man had plenty of women’s tongues wagging. I would rather not talk about him like the other women did all the time…I’ll just keep him secretly hidden in my dreams every night.
Chapter Two
“Welcome to Poetry Night here at the café everybody!” Matthew Brown announced. He acted as the emcee every Saturday night. “I see we have a packed house tonight, which is great and it’s wonderful seeing so many people here from town as well as from our neighbors to showcase their talent for poetry here with us tonight. Now first up, we have Sally Ann Richardson from right here in Stockton, come on up Sally Ann.”
As usual, the café was jammed packed with people which meant I was going to be on my feet for the rest of the night as usual. That hour long break I took a while back wasn’t enough, I thought as I continued smiling even though my feet were slowly starting to ache. I felt thankful that tomorrow would be my day off, so at least I could sleep in and rest up for the following week.
“Um miss, can I get some Sweet and Low?” a man asked.
“Right away sir.” I went back to the back of the counter to grab some Sweet and Low’s that were in a box. This is when I ran into John, who would come in on Saturday and Sunday.
“Big crowd, huh.”
“Oh yeah, probably the biggest one we’ve had in weeks.” I listened in on Sally Ann reciting her poem, which was talking about lost love. Making my way in between the tables to g
et to that guy’s table, I grabbed the container that held the sugar substitutes and put the Sweet and Lows in it. “Is there anything else you might need?”
“Oh, no that’s fine thanks.”
I continued looking around the neighboring tables, making sure if anyone needed anything at all. So far, everyone looked enthralled with Sally Ann’s reciting. When I looked towards the door, I saw Marsha walking in wearing something that honestly she had no business wearing in the first place, a very tight red shirt that showed way to much of her breasts along with a short black skirt that was also too tight. All I could do was mumble to myself as she came sprinting towards me with a smile on her face.
“Is he here yet?”
“No, not yet and I hope you can get a seat because it doesn’t look like there are any around to sit in.” I watched her trying to maneuver herself through the crowd towards the front as people started to clap for Sally Ann as she came from off the stage.
“That was amazing Sally Ann, thanks so much for showing off your talent with us tonight. Now, next up we have Richard King who will be playing us his latest song, come on up here Richard.”
I’d known Richard since we were back in high school. He was linebacker for Varsity Football as well as shortstop on Varsity Baseball. So, when he started coming in on Saturday’s to play his music, it really threw me for a loop that this big fella had such an amazing singing voice. He would come in every other Saturday to play a song since he lived in the next town over. I had asked him one day when he said he came to visit his parent’s about how come he didn’t sing when we were in school.
He told me that he just didn’t feel comfortable singing at school. He thought it would make folks think he was some kind of sissy or something because he was on the football and baseball team. But he said that he would sing for his family as well as when he would go and visit his grandparent’s church in the other town. But as far as any place else, he just didn’t have enough courage to do so. So, once he was out of school, he started to feel more comfortable with singing in front of people. He would sing at little honky tonk bars. It wasn’t until about a year or so ago, that he started to sing here at the café on Saturday nights.
Whipped Cream Dreams (Book 1 of The Sweet Treats Series) Page 1