Love In Arms_BWWM Romance

by Erica A. Davis

  Her mother had loaned her the start up money and she had to scrimp and save and do without for the past year just to get the business going. She had yet to repay her mother the money she owed her.

  She finished eating her meal and went into the tiny kitchen to wash up and then grabbing a sheet of paper and pen she started putting some ideas on paper.

  *****

  “How about I loan you some more money?” Kimberly asked her daughter. They were sitting in her large living room, eating the extremely delicious oatmeal cookies she had just taken from the oven and sipping hot chocolate. Kimone had stopped there after closing the store following another disappointing day that had seen only a handful of customers; some of whom did not buy a thing.

  “Mom, no!” she protested, placing her cup on the table. She had worn chic dark blue wool pants and an aquamarine sweater to work and had piled her heavy curls on top of her head in a loose chignon with matching cosmetic stones winking at her lobes. She had always told her friends that no matter what she was going through it should not show outside.

  She had gotten her looks from her mother and the petite frame as well with creamy caramel complexion and large dark brown eyes and full lips that smiled, readily revealing very white teeth with a small gap in the middle. She knew she got admiring looks from the opposite sex but she did not put much stock in her appearance and she told anyone asking that she had a business to get off the ground so she did not have time for a relationship right now.

  “I already owe you and have no idea how I am going to pay you back.”

  “Nonsense honey,” her mother brushed her protest aside. “What am I going to spend the money on?”

  “You are the best mother a girl could have do you know that?” Kimone reached over and gave her a hug.

  “Of course I know that,” Kimberly said with an irrepressible grin, returning her daughter’s hug. She was over sixty but looked about twenty years younger. She had cut her hair, it was now shoulder length with limited streaks of gray she refused to put color over. She kept her small frame trim by walking every morning whether rain, shine or snow. She had never remarried, stating that John Bailey had been the love of her life and any man coming after would be second best and what person wanted to be second best? He had died when Kimone was only nine years old in an accident on his way home from work one night. She had mourned him deeply but had gotten herself together and made a life for her and her daughter.

  They chatted about the residential home for a bit. “I think nurse Marjory is planning on retiring,” she commented as she bustled around straightening up the place. It was almost six o’clock and Kimone knew she had to leave shortly but she had not seen her mother in a couple of days and did not want to cut the visit short. “She has been hinting at going to a warmer climate for the past few months and I heard her talking to her daughter and asking about companion jobs in Florida.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Kimone said with a laugh, getting up and taking some laundry to help fold. “You just happened to be in the room and you heard her conversation.”

  “Of course dear, what else?” her mother flashed her a mischievous smile as they stood beside each other folding the laundry. “I am not one for eavesdropping and meddling in other people’s business you know.”

  “Of course not,” Kimone used her hip to nudge her playfully. “You are someone who minds her own business always.”

  They spent the rest of the time talking about different things until she finally left.

  *****

  “How about this one?” Dawn held up a skimpy looking red lace teddy with a hole in the crotch. It was after six and she and her best friend were in the mall going from one store to another. It had been two weeks since she had spoken to her mother but had yet to decide whether or not to take the money from her. Business had picked up somewhat and had give her some hope. Dawn had called her and told her that they needed to get rid of some of their troubles by going to look at what the stores had for Christmas.

  Kimone sent her a dry glance, “The day I wear something like that is the day they have me committed.” She told the girl picking up a silk robe the color of amethyst.

  “When you decide to finally have sex, you will think differently,” Dawn said in a soft hushed voice which did not stop the elderly lady beside them from hearing and sending them an affronted look. “What you never had sex?” Dawn asked the woman, pulling Kimone away from the lingerie section. They burst out laughing and wandered over to where the sweaters were.

  “My sex life or lack thereof is not a problem to me.” Kimone told her when they had finished laughing. “Right now I want to concentrate on getting my business off the ground before I think of anything else.” She fingered a cable knit sweater with blue horizontal stripes.

  “Any luck with the lease?” Dawn picked up a bright orange sweater and held it against her body. She was taller than Kimone by far and wore her hair in a short bob that framed an angular attractive face. She was a sales rep at a pharmaceutical company and was dating a pharmacist for the past six months now.

  “Mom wants to lend me the money again but I am still thinking about it,” Kimone’s hands moved restlessly over the sweaters on display.

  “What’s to think about?” Dawn demanded airily. “Honey, if you can get the loan interest free why the hesitation?”

  “Because I have already borrowed from her and you know how I hate to be in anyone’s debt, even my mother.”

  “We all need help at one time or another honey,” Dawn settled on a blue sweater and one with black and gray stripes. “Think this will look good on Gregory?”

  They spent the rest of the evening going into different stores. Kimone picked up several packages and had them gift wrapped. Christmas was always her favorite time of the year and she smiled as she saw the children with their parents and the excitement on their faces. It was part of what had given her the idea of opening a shop like hers; the smiles on children’s faces.

  They had a late supper at one of the small restaurants in the mall. “Gregory wants a commitment from me,” Dawn spooned up some chicken soup and tasted it in appreciation.

  “I thought you guys were already committed to each other?” Kimone asked with raised brows. She had decided to go with the ham sandwich and iced tea.

  “Sort of,” Dawn shrugged, her dark brown eyes twinkling. “I told him I will think about it. I have been disappointed too many times in the relationship department so I am taking it very slow this time, no matter how frustrated he gets.”

  A year ago, Dawn had been headlong in love with a fellow sales rep and it had look as if it had been going somewhere when out of the blue he told her he was moving to another state because he had met someone, a doctor and he needed the opportunity. She had been devastated and it had taken her a while to even think about another man. She had sworn that she would never go that deep in a relationship with anyone like that again. Kimone had met Gregory and he seemed to be a nice guy and totally devoted to Dawn.

  “Do you think that’s fair to him?” she asked her friend curiously. The place had emptied out somewhat and she saw what looked like a couple in the corner booth. The girl looked like she had just gotten the best news of her life and the guy was leaning over as if to kiss her. Sometimes she wondered if she was missing out, not having someone in her life but the feeling pass quickly.

  “I have to be fair to me.” Dawn said firmly. “I will never become unhinge like that again. You remember how you had to come and pry me out of bed. I could not eat or sleep and I wanted to die, never again!” she vowed.

  *****

  Kimone examined the scrap of material she had in her hand with a speculative eye. She had taken a sewing class and had made the decision to make her own doll clothes, styles that depict a certain theme that she also intended to put on display in the store. When she was a child and her mom bought her dolls for Christmas, she had always wished she had different clothes to change and play dress up. She had come up with t
he idea to make the different clothes so that the kids who bought her dolls could also accessorize and the dolls would not have to be in the same clothes over and over again.

  Whenever she had something bothering her she would turn to her tiny den and start working on something she had put aside for a while. She had been working on some party dresses and beach wear for the dolls and had decided to try some business suits.

  She placed the tea she had made herself on the work table and started cutting out the fabric, the material was not cheap but she wanted quality instead of quantity. Her hair fell forward onto her forehead and with an impatient hand she pushed it away, telling herself yet again that she need to visit the hairdresser.

  Her phone rang just then and she realized it was her mother.

  “Hey mom what’s up?” she said breezily, grateful for the break. Her shoulders were starting to ache from being hunched over the sewing machine. To her surprise she realized that it was almost nine o’clock.

  “I need you to help with the decorations for the residential home this weekend,” Kimberly told her. Every year her mother made it her duty to make sure that the residents enjoy Christmas, even if she had to fund the entire thing herself and she had roped in her daughter and her best friend to become a part of it.

  “Oh mom, I am not sure about this weekend,” Kimone groaned. She hated decorating, it was too tedious and besides she had her own store to think about.

  “Honey, you know we have to do good deeds when necessary. I have already gotten a commitment from the cheap skate Mr. Young from the corner store to donate a couple of bells and some ornaments and we have those decorations left over from last year. They are a little dusty but I asked young Benjamin from next door to wipe them clean for me. We are planning a little party for Christmas Eve and we are also putting on a little concert.”

  Kimone knew when her mother said ‘little’ it usually turned out to be a little over fifty people there, people she invited from around the neighborhood who were usually cornered into donating something for the home.

  “I will see what I can do,” Kimone said with a sigh.

  “And we need some proper clothes for old Mrs. Bainbridge; the old dear is practically naked.”

  “I am sure you will find someone to donate some clothes for her mom,” Kimone said fondly. “You are great when it comes to that.”

  “Thanks honey. How are you doing?” she asked in concern.

  “I am hanging in there and hoping for a miracle,” Kimone said with a rueful laugh.

  “You know my offer still stands.”

  “I know mom but I am still thinking about it. You know me, I hate to be indebted.”

  “Honey, we all have to be indebted one time or another and this is your mother, not some stranger off the street.”

  “You sound like Dawn,” Kimone told her. She told her mother what Dawn had told her and her hang up about the relationship with Gregory.

  “I don’t blame her,” her mother said sympathetically. “But she has to be careful that in being so cautious she does not let a good one go. I will call her and tell her about the decorating and have her invite her young man over for dinner.”

  “She would love that, now Mom I am going to let us both get our beauty sleep.”

  “Not that we need it,” Kimberly teased as she hung up the phone.

  With a smile she put aside the fabric and stood up. She still had tomorrow to face.

  Chapter 2

  “You look like you lost your best friend,” a deep teasing voice brought her out of her reverie. Kimone looked up, a smile lightening her expression as she saw who it was. Peter Makeida was a guy she had met in the coffee shop six months ago when she had rushed in to collect her usual order and had almost knocked him over. They had become friends ever since. He was tall and dark and his hair was always falling onto his forehead. He was handsome enough to turn the eyes of every female in the café and it always amused her to see that it made no difference to him.

  “Hi Peter,” she said warmly as he took a seat opposite her. “I thought you were away on a business trip.”

  “I came back a few days ago. Did you miss me?” he asked her lightly. He was dressed in an obviously expensive charcoal jacket suit and his piercing black eyes were trained on her face.

  “Of course I did, nobody offered to pay for my coffee since you were gone.” Kimone told him with a grin. “So how was the trip?”

  “Successful,” he told her with a slight smile. He had told her he owned several businesses but she’d never asked him what they were or where they were located. Outside of the coffee shop she never saw him and she suspected from the clothes he wore that he was wealthy but she never concerned herself about it. “So what’s bothering you?”

  “Oh this and that,” she waved her hand airily, not willing to burden yet another person with her problems. “The season is coming around and I have lots of things to sort out.”

  He looked at her shrewdly for a minute and then with a heartbreakingly charming smile he answered. “I am sure you will sort it out. So what are the plans for the holidays?”

  “I will be spending it decorating the residential home where my mother volunteers. She has roped me into a party she is planning for the residents.”

  “Sounds interesting,” he paused before he added. “How about having dinner with me sometimes?” He saw the way her expression changed to one of wariness and he hastened to say; “We have been friends for the past six months and I have yet to see you outside this coffee shop.”

  “You want to find out if I can handle a knife and fork?” she asked him teasingly, the wariness disappearing much to his relief.

  “Exactly,” he told her with a brief laugh. “So how about it?”

  “I will let you know,” she told him lightly. “My coffee time is up now so I will be seeing you. I am glad you are back Peter,” she told him as she got up gracefully and made to leave.

  “So am I Kimone,” he told her softly as he watched her petite body move gracefully towards the door. She stopped at one of the tables and greeted an old man who was also a regular. He watched as she touched his arm briefly and the way her smile flashed, lighting up a face that had been haunting his every waking moment since he had met her.

  Peter was a Japanese American and had been brought up in a home that was not traditional. His parents never imposed their culture or beliefs on him and he had grown up knowing he could be his own person; their only condition was that he learned about his heritage which he had done so. He came from a very loving home and had to mourn their death when he was just coming into his own. He was twenty two when they died in a car accident and now four years later he had taken a small import and export company and turned it into a billion dollar company.

  He had dated infrequently over the past years, too busy to put out the effort and old fashioned enough to hold out for the right woman. He had every intention of finding a lovely Japanese wife and he had dated a few of them but he had not counted on meeting Kimone.

  It had been quite by chance. His secretary had been out of office with the flu and he had decided to take a walk and get coffee himself. As soon as he entered through the doorway, the small bundle of energy had almost knocked him over and spilled hot coffee on his expensive custom made suit. He had steadied her and one look into large dark brown eyes and hair rioting all over her small exquisite face and he knew she was the one. He had spent a lot of time trying to find ways to approach her by asking her to go out with him but had ended up being friends with her. It was hard not to; she was warm and personable and chatted with any and everyone and had told him in one of their conversations that she had no time for dating right now. His secretary Amy had been surprised to know that he wanted to get coffee for himself every day now and would have been surprised to know the reason for it.

  With a sigh he got up glancing around and wondering if the occupants in the coffee shop thought it strange for him to be sitting around with an obvious longing express
ion on his face after Kimone was long gone. He collected the coffee from the girl he had come to know through Kimone as being Sarah and gave her a tip, leaving to go back to his office. He was definitely going to call her, he thought decisively. Funny how he could be so bold in his business and when it came to wooing the woman he loved he was as indecisive as they come.

  He walked back to the towering glass building that housed Makeida’s Import and Export and rode the elevator to the top floor. “I brought you your coffee Amy,” he passed the Styrofoam cup to his secretary with a pleasant smile, ignoring her raised brows. “Get me Marcus on the phone please.”

  *****

  Kimone helped the little girl dress up the doll in a beautiful fuchsia dress with matching shoes. Sally was one of her regulars and persuaded her mother to come over every afternoon after school so she could spend the time in the ‘play corner’ Kimone had created for children to have fun without parents’ being there. Kimone would sit on the floor with them and play whatever game they selected and even suggests a few herself. She had made sure to reassure the parents that they could leave the kids there with her and go and do the various chores that needed to be done and that was a service she wanted to build on.

  “I think she looks beautiful, don’t you?” Kimone held the doll aloft and admired the dress on her. Her blonde hair was put in an elaborate chignon and her cheeks were rosy with the blush that little Sally had applied. It was a little bit past three in the afternoon and to her delighted surprise quite a few customers had come in during the day and one woman had remarked that it was like a second home to the children. She was more determined than ever to keep the business going whatever it took.

  “I wish I was beautiful too like you and ‘Marisa’,” Sally said with a sigh, looking at the doll with a wistful expression on her chubby face. She had named the doll Marisa because she said the name sounded ‘princessy’ and she was sure she was a princess. Sally was eight years old but a little overweight. Kimone privately thought her mother put too much oil in the girl’s already stringy light brown hair and maybe fed her too much fatty foods.