by Dara Girard
Nearly an hour later, he stopped jumping and let the rope fall to the ground. His cell phone rang as he headed to the bedroom to shower. He glanced at the number and saw it was his friend and business partner, Ken.
“Yeah?”
“I’m at the restaurant.”
Adrian couldn’t help a smile. His friend was almost always at their new restaurant to make sure things were running according to his direction. “Is that supposed to surprise me?”
“I need you to come over quick.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d like to give you the chance to do something before I kill somebody.”
Chapter Seven
“You made the right decision,” Barbara Lancaster said, setting her tea cup down on the accompanying saucer with a soft click.
She and Caryn sat in her aunt’s island inspired kitchen nook where framed pictures of the two Bed and Breakfasts she owned hung on the walls. Caryn usually came up with excuses to avoid tea time with her aunt, but felt a little adrift after meeting Adrian and the strange conversation she’d had with Rita, the woman she’d met at the grocery store. Rita had her thinking about impossible things, but she knew her Aunt Barbara’s no nonsense manner always grounded her in reality. Caryn’s aunt, her mother’s older sister of only eighteen months, although, at times, the distance seemed much greater, had a cool polished mahogany good looks, short black hair and a slender neck which boasted an intricate gold necklace from her late husband, who’d passed away three years ago. The simple gold band on her wedding finger sparkled as brilliantly as it had on her wedding day more than forty years ago.
“You were young,” her aunt continued referring to Caryn’s wavering feelings of regret, “and he didn’t know where he was going in life. Your mother—”
“I know,” Caryn said quickly, not wanting another reminder of how much her aunt had curbed her away from being anything like her mother. Not that she had to work hard. Caryn knew from a young age how much she didn’t want to be like the pretty woman who’d given her her curvy figure and pouty mouth. A woman who didn’t listen to anyone, who lived recklessly and on her own terms no matter who it hurt.
But at times, in the quiet, a voice whispered that she may have a little of her mother in her. That she had a wild nature that would at one point take over and destroy the carefully, controlled life she’d created. She’d come close to succumbing to her mother’s wild ways when she’d agreed to marry Adrian after knowing him for less than five months. In him she felt as if she’d met her other half, the one who she wanted to spend her life with. But on her wedding day, the alarm bells rang. And as she stared up at Adrian on that day, fear gripped her: A fear that she loved him too much. She was afraid her love for him would consume her. And her mother had shown her what an all consuming love could do. The damage it could cause.
“I’m glad we agree,” her aunt said with a soft smile. “I’m sure seeing him again was upsetting, but don’t let him rattle you. He was being rash and impulsive when he convinced you of the insane idea, but what else is youth for?”
“It wasn’t just his idea—”
“Now that you are both older, you must realize that the paths you’ve taken are for the best.”
Caryn added more cream to her tea, pleased that her hand didn’t shake, although she was trembling inside. She didn’t feel older and more rational, not when it came to him. She felt young and giddy. Her skin still remembered the touch of his hand wrapped around her wrist, how it made all her senses come alight. She felt renewed again. A sense of anticipation, but for what? He always had that affect on her even in the past. He thrilled her, challenged her, forced her to expand beyond her rational safe ways without making her feel afraid. He’d dared her to be more, to dream of a life of adventure that they would share together. Would they have stayed together if she hadn’t run away? What could have been?
“If you wanted milk, dear, you should have just told me.”
Caryn looked down at her tea, which now nearly spilled over the brim, it’s dark color now almost white. She set the creamer down. “I’m sorry.”
“I understand. You’re not yourself today.”
“Do you really not have any regrets about him?”
Her aunt lifted her perfectly arched brows and rested a hand on her chest. “Me? Regrets about him? Why would I?”
“He offered you a chance to invest in his business.”
“And he was totally unprofessional about it.” Her aunt pursed her lips in disgust. “What a ludicrous idea. Selling slices of pies from a food truck. He didn’t even have a bakery first, that would have been a more reasonable start. Plus, why was he and his friend thinking of desserts when at the time they could have grabbed hold of a popular trend of Korean tacos? You’d think his friend would have at least thought to do that, considering his background.”
“Ken isn’t Korean, Aunty, and his specialties are desserts.”
“Well, what sensible person waits until the last minute until the website is functional, dillydallies for days on the name and business structure, and tells an investor he and his partner has a backup plan in case things didn’t work out?”
“He was being cautious.”
“When I invest in something, I want the person to be truly committed without any doubts.”
“But you could have been rich.”
“I’m comfortable. I’m sure it was pure luck that propelled his business to the heights it’s risen.”
“Perhaps in the first year, but the last six took skill. Adrian’s a savvy businessman and Ken knows it.”
Her aunt shrugged. “I still don’t regret it.”
Caryn lifted her tea cup, making sure not to spill a drop, and took a long sip. “I wish I could say the same.”
“You may not be as wealthy as he is, but you are very successful and—”
“Alone.”
“Because the right man hasn’t come along yet, but he will. Be patient.” She clasped her hands together. “Actually—”
“No.”
She frowned. “It’s rude to interrupt.”
Caryn took another sip of her tea then set the cup down. “I’m sorry Aunty, but the answer is still the same.”
“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”
“Leland Banks is single again and interested.”
Barbara shrugged. “Okay, so you did know what I’m about to say.”
“When I need an allergist, I’ll look him up.”
“He’s a great catch.”
“His name reminds me of an apartment complex.”
Barbara made a tsking sound with her tongue. “Don’t be petty.”
“And he bores me.”
“He’s a little staid, but you could loosen him up.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’re getting to the age,” she paused and thoughtfully tapped her chin, “well actually past the age, where you can waste your time on useless men like Peter. I won’t try to set you up, but I will tell you this, if you want to be truly happy you’ll forget about Adrian Everett.”
Chapter Eight
The moment he arrived in the kitchen of their Lucky Stars restaurant, Adrian knew why Ken was furious. The server was handling toast without wearing gloves, a whipped cream topped crepe sat neglected under a warmer, the lunch tray set up was all wrong, and salt and pepper shakers had gone missing. But the worst was when he spotted a cook overdoing the eggs at one of the griddles.
In his early days, Ken would have yelled, taken the griddle and thrown the eggs against the wall and humiliated the cook, but Adrian had helped him cool his temper, and when he didn’t think he could, he called him in.
“I don’t want you to speak,” Adrian calmly said, taking over the cook’s position. “I just want you to watch.” He dumped the eggs in the trash then started again, quickly showing the younger man how to produce soft eggs. Once he was finished, he patted the man on the back and said, “I know you can do better. Now s
how me.”
He then efficiently dealt with the other mistakes, helping to locate the missing salt and pepper shakers, gently reminding the server the importance of wearing gloves and why it was part of their culture, repeating the proper procedure for the warmer and showing them how the lunch tray was to be set.
After the mini crisis had been settled, he found Ken pacing in the back alley behind the restaurant, where puddles of rain reflected the blue sky above. He wore dark jeans and a crumpled white shirt, and ran a hand through his bed head spiked black hair.
“You fixed things?” Ken asked, his Portuguese accent only lightly touching the edge of his words. “Disaster, it has been avoided?”
Adrian smiled. “That’s why I’m paid the big bucks.”
“That server—”
“I know. I took care of it all, but I have to give you credit. I’m surprised you waited for me to handle the guy with the eggs.”
Ken paused, his gaze sharpening. “What guy? What eggs?”
Adrian silently swore. Either Ken hadn’t seen it or had left the kitchen before he could see. “It’s nothing.”
He kicked a dumpster, startling some pigeons who flew from a ledge. “Some guy can’t even cook a f--- egg!”
“He can now.”
“Did you fire him?”
“You know I didn’t come here to do that.”
“Tell me who it is. The guy with the peach fuzz on his lip? I promise I won’t touch him.”
“No.”
“I won’t shout. I won’t even raise my voice.”
Adrian rested a hand on Ken’s tense shoulder. For years he’d always been Ken’s good manners and knew how to soothe him. Ken had the brilliant ideas; Adrian made them work. Although they’d both attended New York’s French Culinary Institute, they’d met at one of Ken’s small restaurants, one that eventually closed due to mismanagement and creative differences with his then partner, a man who Ken made cry on numerous occasions.
When Adrian was hired as a food-safety consultant, Ken immediately saw Adrian’s other talents, and the pair came up with the plan for Deadly Delectable Pies. Ken didn’t care that Adrian’s previous business, a startup company that created collapsible high heel shoes, flopped. Their different personalities blended well. Initially, Adrian had to get past Ken’s volatile reputation as the ‘crazy Asian guy with the Spanish accent’, which really ticked Ken off. “I’m not Spanish,” he’d say before smashing something. Adrian had to work hard before he could get investors interested. But he did and through effort and strategy they created a baked goods chain with six locations and other lucrative ventures.
“Relax,” Adrian said, giving Ken’s shoulder a squeeze. “You don’t have to worry anymore. The eggs will be so fluffy and soft they’ll float out of the kitchen.”
Ken ran his hand through his hair again, looking like a man in need of a cigarette or a stiff drink. “You’re sure everything is fine?”
“Yes,” Adrian said, folding his arms, sensing his friend’s bad mood was lifting. “I took care of things. It’s all right now.”
“If everything’s all right, why do you look like hell?”
Adrian blew him a kiss. “I love you too.”
Ken’s brows drew together. “What’s going on?”
I saw Caryn again. “Roberta’s organizing my place.”
Ken snapped his fingers and pointed him.“Péssima ideia, didn’t I tell you that?”
Adrian scratched his cheek. “I needed to do something about the bears. When I said I’d help my sister I didn’t think it would get out of hand.”
“Are we talking about the same sister? The one who in college offered a cartoon drawing to anyone who signed up for her mailing list and ended up getting eight hundred responses?”
“I know, she didn’t think the donations would come so fast or be so many.”
Ken stared at him for a long moment. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”
Adrian glanced to his right then his left. “Has this alley turned into a confessional or something?”
Ken softly swore and hung his head. “You’re doing it.”
Adrian held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Doing what?”
He looked at him. “Making things light. You always do that when things are bad. Is it you and Roberta?”
“You still don’t like her?”
Ken couldn’t help a smile. “Are you thinking of cutting her loose?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“The bears. I’m having nightmares about the bears. That’s all.”
Ken nodded. “Fine, you had me worried.” He hit him on the arm. “Come on, let’s get a drink,” he said, heading down the alley. “I’m glad that’s all it is.”
“Why?”
“Because you looked like you’d just seen a ghost.”
Chapter Nine
Forget Adrian Everett. If only she could. She desperately wanted to. Caryn drove home annoyed by her traitorous heart and mind. He was taken. It was over. She didn’t have a chance. She didn’t want a chance. They were too different and they’d met purely by accident at Terri’s Halloween party eight years ago…
“Why didn’t you come together?” Terri asked, adjusting the hat of her Red Crayola crayon costume when she saw Caryn searching the crowd of goblins, fake celebrities, witches and warlocks for her date, Philip.
“He has a late shift at work.”
“What’s he supposed to be?”
Caryn tugged on her long blonde wig then gestured to her red Renaissance maiden costume. “I’m Princess Buttercup.”
“Who?”
“The princess from the movie The Princess Bride and he’s going to be—”
Terri held up her hand. “Let me guess…Inigo Montoya.”
“No,” Caryn said, making a face. “My true love Westley as the Dread Pirate Roberts.”
Terri nodded to a man dressed in black, like a pirate, getting a drink at the punch bowl. “Then I think I see him.”
Caryn’s heart jumped to her throat, fear that he wouldn’t show slipping away replaced by joy. “Yes, that’s him!”
Terri pushed her forward then waved. “Have fun storming the castle!”
Caryn rushed over to the table, spun him around and kissed him, barely reaching his mouth since he was a lot taller than she remembered. She took a step back and grinned up at him. He looked like a true darkly, handsome raider of the sea in a pirate headscarf mask, swashbuckler shirt, boot tops with wide cuffs at the knee and lace-up details. She never imagined Philip would go to such lengths since he’d seemed reluctant to attend the party.
“You look amazing,” Caryn said in awe. “This costume is great.” She playfully squeezed his forearm, surprised by how well he filled his shirt. “Is this padding?” she said with a giggle.
“Um…I think…”
She held up her hands not wanting him to feel awkward. “I know. You thought it was silly of me to be a black princess with blonde hair, but I just wanted to have fun. And at least we match.” She took his hand again surprised by how large and warm it felt. Maybe because she was seeing him in a new way she was responding to him differently too. Usually his hands were cold and dry. “I want to show you something.”
She took him outside to the balcony where Terri had trimmed the black railing with orange and white lights, above them the moon hung low in the inky black sky. She turned to him ready to thank him, but she didn’t get the chance. His mouth covered hers, his lips more persuasive than she’d ever remembered them to be. He felt wonderful, better than he ever had before, and as his arms wrapped around her midriff she felt as if she were in a true fairytale and she whispered, “I want to be with you forever.”
And he said in a husky whisper, “As you wish.”
She drew away and stared at him in wonder, feeling as if she were under a spell. “I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Neither have I.”
Even his voice sounded a li
ttle different. She took his hand. “You’re shaking.”
“Yes, because there’s something you should know.”
“Caryn!” a familiar male voice said.
She spun around and saw a prince instead of a pirate. A man who looked like Cinderella’s Prince Charming dressed in a white military style jacket with a gold sash. A prince who didn’t wear a black mask, who knew her name and sounded just like Philip. “Terri said I’d find you out here.”
“Philip?” she said, just to make sure.
“Sure,” he said with a laugh. “Who else would I be?”
Oh no. Oh no. She slowly turned to the man next to her. The beautiful, sexy pirate who she’d kissed with abandon. “I owe you an apology.”
He held her hand, his gaze intense. “No, don’t run from this,” he said in a velvet whisper.
“What’s going on?” Philip asked.
The stranger continued to hold her gaze. “We fell in love.”
She swallowed. That was crazy. She couldn’t have fallen in love with someone she’d just met based on a kiss. Then why did it feel so right? Why did she feel as if she’d found what she’d always been looking for?
“Caryn?” Philip asked. “What is he talking about?”
She took a hasty step back, pulling her hand free, but unable to break his gaze. “I don’t know.”
“Do you know the café on Fenton Street?” the pirate-stranger asked.
“Yes,” she said feeling breathless, wondering why he still had this hold on her without touching her.
“If you feel what I do, meet me there tomorrow at three.” He nodded then left.
Philip watched him go. “Who the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Caryn said, watching her pirate disappear into the crowd.
“You have to go and see him,” Terri said after the party had ended. Caryn helped her clean up the empty plates and cups and take down the decorations.
Caryn picked up some paper plates and dumped them in her trash bag.“You mean you don’t know who it could be?”