“I agree,” Belinda said. “But, Shari, I think we need to separate the business from the personal here. I mean, what happened with Dina was years ago.”
“Unfortunately, time does not erase the past,” was Shari’s reply.
“No, that’s why it’s up to us to move on. To leave the past in the past,” she told her cousin seriously.
Dina’s betrayal had obviously hit Shari the hardest. Everyone in the family had felt hurt and angry by Dina’s action, but for the most part, Belinda thought they’d all moved on. At least she knew she had. Dina had taught them a valuable lesson about keeping their family recipes and traditions a secret. Malik had actually been the only other person not blood related that was privy to the inner workings of Lillian’s.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Shari retorted, looking up now from her work.
Belinda was startled at her cousin’s sharp words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if you would come out of your self-made glass house every now and then and live a little you might have a past and something you regret doing.”
This wasn’t the first time Shari, or anyone for that matter, had made a remark about Belinda living in a glass house. The saying definitely was not true. If it were, she’d have shattered the walls of that so-called perfect life of hers a long time ago.
“Believe me, I have plenty of regrets,” she said solemnly as she began scooping batter from the bowl, layering it gently into the loaf pans.
“You? Yeah, right. What do you regret? Getting your hair cut too short or maybe buying the wrong shoes to go with an outfit? You don’t have any regrets, Belinda, because you don’t ever take chances. You make the right choice each and every time. The safe choice, I should say.”
To admit she was offended by that accusation would be an understatement even though some of it may have been true. Belinda had taken the easy route; she’d done what everyone expected of her all the time, instead of doing what she wanted. As a result she was living a life that was mostly a lie. And that didn’t sit well with her.
“You’re right,” she said simply. “I’m trying to get better at that.”
Shari was prepared to go on stating her case, which was so like her. If you wanted in your corner a loyal person who was honest to a fault, it would be Shari. Belinda didn’t resent her cousin for that. In fact, she admitted, if only to herself, she was sort of envious of her for it.
“Trying to get better at what? And did you just say I was right?” Shari asked. Once again, she looked up at Belinda. “Wait a minute,” she said, dropping the cutter she used to fashion perfect triangles from the dough and coming from around the table where she worked.
Belinda shifted slightly as Shari came to stand beside her.
“What’s going on with you? And don’t bother to tell me nothing because I know you better than that.”
Shari was oh so right. They knew each other very well, since they’d all grown up on Lillian’s estate. It had seemed strange that all of Lillian’s children had remained living on her estate for so many years after they were grown and married. But that could only be attributed to how close their family was, in and out of the business.
“Nothing’s going on. I’m fine,” she said, knowing damn well Shari was going to keep pushing until Belinda told her the absolute truth. With that in mind Belinda gave up before Shari could continue. “Okay, but this goes no farther than this kitchen.”
“What did you do? Something illegal? Did you kill that bastard Patrick for calling you stuck-up?”
“What? No, girl. You watch too much television.”
“Please, Andre is addicted to the cartoon network, so I’m not seeing much about murders these day. But whatever, go on and tell me what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Belinda sighed, then smiled. “Well, I did sort of do something.”
Shari tilted her head, staring intently at Belinda. “And that something was...?”
Belinda cleared her throat. “I had sex.”
Shari took a step back. “Is that all?”
Of course Shari didn’t know that Belinda had never had sex before. It wasn’t something she’d eagerly broadcasted. In fact, she’d been guarding that little secret with her entire being for as long as she could remember. And there was no doubt that Shari wasn’t in the same boat since Andre would be turning five in about seven months. No wonder it didn’t sound like much to her.
“With Malik,” she said quickly, then turned her attention back to scooping out the cake batter.
Shari’s hands were on her shoulders turning her around so fast Belinda dripped cake batter all over the table.
“Leave it,” Shari ordered. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave out one little detail and don’t try to tell me you don’t remember. Your mind is like a steel trap. If y’all did it, you remember it. Now spill.”
Belinda felt like they were teenagers again. With both of them in their mid-twenties it wasn’t that far of a stretch.
“I helped out at his fund-raiser yesterday and, when we came back to my apartment, things got a little heated and we...we did it.” She shrugged like it was as simple as that, which was definitely not true.
“You and Malik? Carter’s friend Malik and you?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Aah, yes, it is hard to believe. He’s not the type you ordinarily go out with.”
Belinda reached for a cloth and went to the sink to wet it. “You’re telling me something I already know. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe my tastes are changing.”
“Maybe,” Shari said, still eyeing her suspiciously. “Or maybe you’ve had a thing for him all along and just chose to finally act on it.”
“That sounds impulsive and more of an act that would suit Carter, not me,” Belinda said.
“Carter wouldn’t have sex with his best friend.” Shari shook her head and chuckled as Belinda cleaned up the spilled cake batter from the table.
Belinda eyed her over her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, so let’s say you’re straying from the norm. Fine, there’s no problem with sampling different items before you settle on one. I probably should have done a little more sampling myself before...” Shari cleared her throat. “So what does that mean for the two of you now?”
“Nothing,” Belinda answered quickly. Too quickly.
“Uh-huh, that was really believable. Are you a couple? Is it serious? Are you in love with him?”
“Are you a cop hanging out in this kitchen as an undercover disguise?” Belinda asked her cousin, who was like a pit bull when she sank her teeth in something.
Shari shook her head. She wore her hair pulled back today, as she normally did when she was in the kitchen, and she had on jeans and a T-shirt—also her normal “mommy” clothes and “bakery” clothes when she wasn’t meeting with clients. She was shorter than Belinda, with more curves and a round face that displayed high cheekbones when she smiled.
“I told myself I’m not going to overthink this situation. I’m going to simply go with the flow.”
Shari laughed.
“What?”
“You? Go with the flow? That doesn’t even sound right coming out of your mouth. You don’t go with the flow, Belinda. You make the flow, you control the ups and the downs and you make it work for you. That’s who you are.”
Belinda shook her head. “That’s not who I want to be. I thought I was controlling everything with all the other dates I’ve been on and you see how they turned out. I just want to relax and let things happen naturally. And if it doesn’t work out, that’s fine.” Because really, she’d only considered Malik as a man she trusted to have sex with. It had never really dawned on her there could be something more between them. At least not until he said he’d waited so long for her. That little comment still had her head spinning.
“So you wouldn’t commit to Malik if that’s what he wanted?”
“That’s not what he wants,” she replied adamantly.
“How do you know? Did you ask him?”
“Have you seen Malik with a steady girlfriend in all the years we’ve known him? I haven’t. He’s just like Carter in that respect, not in it for the long run.”
“I don’t know about that,” Shari said. “There are some distinct differences between Carter and Malik. And anyway we aren’t talking about you sleeping with your cousin. We’re talking about you sleeping with a fine, intelligent man who has his priorities straight and a bright future ahead of him.”
“I know Malik’s attributes. You don’t have to rattle them off like you’re his personal résumé.”
Shari folded her hands over her chest and leaned a hip against the table. Belinda dropped the spoon and drummed her nails on the stainless steel.
“He’s not my type, I know this. But he said he’d wanted me for a long time. He touched me and I melted. I liked that. So that’s it, right?”
Shari shook her head. “Doesn’t sound like that’s it to me. Let me give you some advice. I think you should date Malik, sleep with him as much as you want, protected of course, and see where it ends up. Because I guarantee you one thing—if you give up on this relationship before it’s had a chance to grow, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Shari seemed deadly serious about her words. So much so Belinda had to wonder if she weren’t speaking from her own experience, perhaps with Andre’s father. She was wise enough and respectful enough of her cousin’s privacy not to ask her that question. Instead she nodded, agreeing that she should at least think about the possibility of Malik being the man for her.
* * *
Belinda Drayson-Jones, twenty-six-year-old beautiful and intelligent pastry chef, was a virgin. Or at least she had been before last night. Before he’d taken something from her that she would never get back.
A part of Malik had walked to his car this morning with his chest poked out and his ego significantly inflated. Another part, the one that had taken over the minute he stepped foot into the bakery an hour later, was beginning to feel more than a little regretful.
“Hiding out?” Carter said from behind him just as Malik finished filling an order of three cheesecakes and two of Belinda’s famous Key Lime Pies.
“I’m working. You do remember that, don’t you?” he asked, since it was almost noon and Carter was just coming in.
Carter grinned, his world-class “I’m Carter Drayson and who the hell are you” grin. “I know very well what work is. That’s why I’m here to work on that carnival cake for the Children’s Hospital. But what I’m more curious about is why you’re out here instead of in the back.”
“Shari and Belinda are prepping for tomorrow. All the orders on the books are yours. Three of them are ready—after your final approval that is—to be shipped. And the carnival cake, you still need to decorate. That leaves me to man the store.”
“Where’s Amber?”
“Dentist’s appointment.”
Carter shook his head. “Convenient excuse.”
Malik closed the display case, mentally making note of what was left and what he’d need to retrieve from the back to stock up. The last thing they wanted, even though it meant they were making good sales, was for a customer to come in and see an empty display case. As Lillian would say, That was classless.
“For?” he asked, moving around Carter, who was rudely standing directly in his path.
“For the fact that you’re hiding from Belinda.”
Malik stopped near the second display case and turned to face Carter. “Why would I hide from your cousin?”
Carter shrugged and the look he gave Malik was one of innocent ignorance, except his grin shifted to overbearing arrogance.
“Heard you were together yesterday. All day,” Carter told him. He’d moved across the showroom to the coffee bar. Nichelle, who’d been with them since the installation of the bar, immediately served him a cappuccino.
“How could you possibly have heard that?”
“Lorielle Simmons sent me a text. She saw that you and Belinda were at the rec center and wondered why I hadn’t come to represent the bakery.”
Lorielle Simmons was one of Carter’s many conquests, who happened to be the daughter of an NCAA college coach. She was also one of the biggest supporters of Malik’s foundation. And apparently she could now be classified as a snitch.
“She wanted to help, that’s all,” Malik replied.
Carter nodded as he sipped his drink. “Right, I know all about how your women help you out.”
Malik frowned.
“But let me just tell you something I forgot to mention the other day when you asked how I felt about you pursuing Belinda.”
“And what studious advice should I be forever grateful to you for?”
Carter sobered instantly, his brown eyes darkening. “Hurt my cousin and I’ll kick your ass.”
He should have expected that. Actually, he’d been looking forward to a remark like that when he’d first told Carter about his intentions toward Belinda. Carter was very protective of his family, of his female cousins especially. No matter how bossy and irritating Belinda could sometimes be to him, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to her. Or, as he’d just said, let anybody hurt her.
“You know me better than that,” Malik replied.
“I know women fall in love with your quiet charm, your big ole compassionate heart. So all I’m saying is tread lightly with Belinda. We’ve been friends for a long time and we’ve been through a lot. The last thing I want to have to do is hit you.”
“First,” Malik said, folding his arms over his chest, “you’ve hit me before and we both ended up with black eyes and sore ribs the next morning—courtesy of a bad bet on my part and too many rum and cokes on your part.
“And second, you’ve got me confused with you. I don’t leave a trail of broken hearts beating behind me. I’m much more discreet in my conquests.”
Carter shrugged. “Either way, I felt it my duty to warn you.”
“Right. Thanks for that,” Malik added drily. “Anything else you want to say?”
“Only that one of your discreet conquests just walked through the door.”
Malik turned to the front door just as he heard Carter’s mocking laugh heading into the back.
Chantelle Martin wanted to be one of his conquests, discreet or any other way she could. Malik didn’t like her blatant sexuality or the way she flaunted it, even in the presence of her children. She wore gaudy makeup and extremely tight clothes. Her voice was loud and her eyes were way too big for her face. She took care of her sons on her own because their fathers were mysteriously—or not—out of the picture. She worked two jobs and was apparently so good at both she still made it to the boys’ games.
But she wasn’t Belinda.
“Hello, Malik,” Chantelle said, stopping in front of the second display case.
She wore a red dress that was snug over her hips and breasts. Cleavage was bountiful, and legs should have been in their own display case.
“Hello, Chantelle. What brings you into Lillian’s today? Do you need a cake or a pie? Or do you just want more of my Belgian chocolate brownies?”
Chantelle leaned over the counter and extended her arm until her nails ran over his shoulder. “I’ll take all of the above if you’ll personally deliver them to my place around seven-thirty tonight.”
“I can have them boxed and ready for you to take out in three minutes,” he said seriously.
She smiled, licking her tongue over glossed lips. “I want door-to-door service. Doesn’t Lillian care anything about customer service?”
Malik nodded. “It’s number one in our book.”
“Then good customer service would demand you deliver the items personally, wouldn’t it?”
“Only if you bought out the entire store,” Belinda said from the doorway, where Malik was surprised to see her standing.
Sh
e barely looked at him as she walked to the display case, a gorgeous smile on her face while she stared at Chantelle. “Is that an option, Ms., or is it Mrs., Martin?”
“It’s Mrs. Martin,” Chantelle said, her tone quickly turning frosty. “I have no need for the contents of the entire store. But I would like my order delivered.”
“Sure,” Belinda told her and reached around Malik to grab the delivery log. She passed Mrs. Martin a slip of paper and said, “Fill this out and we’ll get your delivery ready.”
Malik stood back watching as Belinda waited on
Chantelle with style and finesse even though annoyance almost radiated from her. He could tell by the way she tapped the pen against the log then tucked the shorter side of her hair behind her ear. That was a true sign that she was angry and couldn’t show it.
When Mrs. Martin passed her the paper with all her information on it, she looked over to Malik. “If you’re available I’d like you to deliver it. If not, I’d like you to call me when you are.”
“Carlos is our new delivery guy. He’s fantastic. I’ll tell him to make sure he delivers only to you,” Belinda said, then gave Malik one of the sharpest, coldest looks he’d ever received.
He cleared his throat and stepped closer. “She’s right. Carlos is great. He’ll make sure you have everything on your order and on time, first thing Saturday morning,” he said after looking in the log book where Belinda had just written down the information.
Chantelle’s lips closed tightly, her gaze never wavering from him. “That will be fine,” she said. “For now.”
She walked out of the store with a deliberate sway of her hips. Her perfume loomed seconds after she was gone.
“Big order?” he asked.
“Big jerk!” Belinda said, pushing past him to head back into the kitchen.
Chapter 10
Belinda had a headache. As she took two aspirin and washed them down with cran-grape juice, she sighed. A headache was much better than a panic attack. Today had been a long day. Ten and a half hours at the bakery, including a last-minute change in cake design coming just ten minutes after she’d finished the cake, her touch-and-go conversation with Shari and last but certainly not least, the run-in with Malik and his flavor of the month.
Decadent Dreams (The Draysons: Sprinkled with Love) Page 10