Champagne Kisses

by Zuri Day

  “You should. It’s a very nice event. In fact, we should exchange phone numbers and keep in touch. Our family is quite involved in various entities of the city, and we get VIP tickets to all of the parties and the concerts, of course. Then there are the private affairs that happen around town. I know that place like the back of my hand, could walk the streets in my sleep. Especially the French Quarter with its hotels, clubs, restaurants and impromptu jam sessions all up and down Bourbon Street. Have you ever had a beignet? Because if you haven’t, after you’ve tried one you’ll never look at a donut the same again. They’re crispy on the outside, light and fluffy on the inside and…”

  Try as she might to be courteous and attentive, the rest of Reginald’s conversation was a bunch of blah, blah, blah. Thankfully the toasts continued and shortly after they’d taken away the dessert plates, Diamond and Jackson were cutting the cake. Everyone spilled from their places at the tables to witness the traditional cutting and made room on the floor for the newlywed’s first dance. This was the moment Marissa had been waiting for. In between Reginald’s rambling, she’d thought of the perfect way to get Donovan to herself, have him close enough to let him know exactly what was on her mind. But when she mustered up the nerve and crossed over to where she’d last seen him…he was gone.

  Chapter 6

  “Good morning, son,” Genevieve said, opening the front door and giving Donovan a hug as he entered. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

  Until yesterday’s wedding, Diamond had lived in the east wing of the estate. Dexter’s domain was on the west side of the house. His mother insisted on maintaining a room for her eldest on the property, even though four years ago Donovan had purchased a Mediterranean-style, ocean-view home in La Jolla, a tony suburb of San Diego that was about an hour from his parents. For the past two years, until Ms. Widowed had changed her zip code, he’d lived there almost exclusively. During that time, he was a frequent dinner guest at the Drake estate but was rarely seen for breakfast.

  Therefore Donovan understood, even expected, her surprise. “Morning, Mom.” He followed her into a sitting room where she’d obviously been having tea.

  “Should I pour you a cup, darling? If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of the breakfast casserole left. That’s what we had this morning.”

  “Tea sounds good.”

  After pouring the tea and, against Donovan’s wishes, retrieving a plate of homemade pastries from the kitchen, Genevieve explained simply, “Your grandmother made these.”

  “Oh, well, I definitely can’t turn down her cooking.” Though internal stress over his assistant’s condition and the current workweek had lessened his appetite, he reached for one of the cinnamon rolls, then closed his eyes as he chewed the heavenly goodness. “This is delicious.”

  “How is Sharon?” Genevieve asked as she stirred her tea. “Dexter told me that that was why you left early.”

  “Yes. I knew how frightened her daughter had to be waiting for family to arrive from back east. Diamond encouraged me to go, and it was the right thing to do.”

  “And how is she?”

  “The surgery was a success, but she’s going to remain in ICU until they can be sure that no additional infection has set in.”

  Genevieve nodded. “I’ll call later this morning and, if she’s up to it, go visit her tomorrow. If you haven’t already, remember to send flowers. Speaking of, who’s covering for Sharon while she recuperates?”

  “A temporary agency is sending someone to handle the day-to-day. But there’s so much going on with the international expansion. Dexter would normally pick up the slack, but he has his hands full with the cousins and developing the line for stocking their wine bars.”

  “Donald mentioned that these next couple weeks are very crucial for you, Donovan. All the more reason why your visit this morning, with so much going on, is a surprise.” After a companionable silence she continued, “What can I do for you, son?”

  Now that he was here, the speech that Donovan had rehearsed in his mind seemed lame and the idea that precipitated this talk even lamer. But his trusted assistant was in the hospital and his back was against the wall. After a fitful night’s sleep, he’d wavered in the decision to work with Marissa. As sound as the advice Jackson had given and Diamond had readily seconded was, Donovan knew that being around that cup of hot chocolate would be a major distraction, and, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he could maintain professionalism instead of trying to take a few sips. So with one last bite of Grandmother Mary’s cinnamon roll for fortification, he began.

  “I need your help, Mom, professionally.”

  “Professionally?” Genevieve repeated with an arched brow as she set down her cup.

  “Yes. Our partners in Asia have a database of over ten thousand potential customers for our wines. Unfortunately, the data was input in Chinese and, while we have some software that will do the translation, we can’t download their file directly from their system to ours. The entries will have to be done manually. Aside from Sharon, Kathleen would have been the only person I could have trusted, but unfortunately Diamond had already promised her this week off.”

  “Your back is against the wall for sure, son. But how can I help?”

  “Mom,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I’d like your help with the international project.”

  “You’re asking me to be your assistant, Donovan? Inputting this data, these tens of thousands of companies?”

  Hearing it from his mother’s mouth, Donovan felt he had more of a chance of the First Lady coming to help him than Genevieve Drake. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But because of the information’s sensitivity, my options are sorely limited.”

  “You talked to your dad about this?”

  It was a fair question. Donovan talked to his dad about everything. “No.” Almost. “I thought there was no need to ask Dad without asking you first.”

  “Really?”

  Yeah, I don’t believe it either.

  “Because had you done so, you’d know that your father and I are handling some family business this week.”

  “What kind of family business?” Nothing happened with one Drake that the others didn’t know about.

  “With all of the activity surrounding your sister’s wedding, we hadn’t had time to tell you about this. But we’re finally going to divide up that property on my mother’s side. You know it’s going to be crazy with everybody trying to get their piece of the pie. I’d just as soon deed my part to whoever wants it just to keep the peace. But not my sister. She’s determined that some cousins, who weren’t on speaking terms with their great-aunt’s brother, won’t get so much as a teaspoon of dirt! She wants me to come down to support her.”

  Donovan sat back and rubbed his brow. The timing of this situation sucked.

  “Donovan, even if this trip weren’t planned, I’d be like a fish out of water in the office. Not to mention navigating the dynamic of your being my boss.”

  “I’d go easy on you.”

  “You’d have a choice?”

  “Ha! Guess not.”

  Donovan knew he was out of all options except one. And with that he picked up his cell and made a call.

  “Hello.”

  “Marissa, this is Donovan.” Okay, man. Here we go.

  Chapter 7

  She almost asked, “Donovan who?” Such was her surprise. But in Marissa’s world, there was only one. The one she’d been thinking of almost incessantly since yesterday. The one whose voice was the last one she’d imagined hearing today.

  “Hello.” And again, the type of silence between them that begged for a word…or a cricket chirp.

  “Yes, Marissa, do you have a minute?”

  I’m about to have a heart attack, but that wasn’t your question. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m glad you called, Donovan,” she said, determined to straighten her big-girl backbone and act like she’d known how to converse since the age of two. “I wanted to apologize for snapping at you after t
he rehearsal dinner. Diamond told me that your assistant, Sharon, had to have surgery, and I’m sure the news was stressful to you. I hope she’ll be doing better soon.”

  “Your apology is accepted, and I hope you’ll accept mine, as well. Stress is never a reason to be rude. I’m sorry for snapping back.”

  “So how is she?”

  “Doing better, thanks.” Marissa waited for further comment. She’d said what she wanted to say; now it was up to Donovan to say why he’d called. “Jackson gave me your number before he left.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s work related,” Donovan quickly clarified.

  “Oh.”

  Amazing how the same word could be said in two totally different ways.

  Marissa heard Donovan chuckle, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. Instantly, she realized two things. One, she hadn’t heard Donovan laugh before, and two, she really liked how it sounded: warm and deep, like the still waters she felt flowed beneath that professional, businesslike exterior he showed to the world.

  “That probably came out wrong. I just didn’t want you to get the impression that I was trying to hit on you.”

  “Okay,” Marissa said, drawing out the word.

  “This hole just keeps getting deeper, doesn’t it?”

  “You are kinda giving a shovel some competition.”

  “Then I’ll get to the point. Jackson said that the administrative workload at Boss Construction would be fairly light these next two weeks, and he volunteered you for a project I’m working on.”

  “I thought the mice were supposed to play when the boss was away.”

  “That’s usually the way it works. Perhaps when he gets back I can talk him into giving you an extra week’s vacation as compensation…along with the money you’ll be paid for your work here.”

  “So I’m going to continue receiving my salary through Boss Construction and you’re going to pay me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, Donovan, that’s a hard offer to refuse.” Believing that Donovan was waiting for her answer, she asked him, “When do I start?”

  “Bright and early tomorrow morning, let’s say nine o’clock. Also, you live in San Diego, correct?”

  “Right.”

  “I live in La Jolla, but because of the intensity of these next two weeks, I’m staying at the resort. Would it be a problem for you to stay here, as well? We’ll be keeping late hours, and staying here will alleviate the time you’d spend in rush hour traffic.”

  For many reasons, including a man whose unexpected reappearance in her life had left her paranoid and whose motives were still unclear, she didn’t hesitate. “No, Donovan, that wouldn’t be a problem at all. You said for two weeks, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does that include the weekend?”

  “I’m sorry, Marissa, but probably yes. We’ll more than likely be working around the clock.”

  “That’s fine, I just wanted to know how much to pack.”

  “Any other questions?”

  “No. I guess I’ll learn everything about the project tomorrow.”

  “That you will. I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay, Donovan. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Marissa ended the call and felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. She knew that her uneasiness had nothing to do with whether or not she could handle the assignment and everything to do with whether or not she could handle the man.

  * * *

  The following morning, a bright and sunny Monday without a cloud in the sky, a fairly confident Marissa arrived at Drake Wines Resort and Spa. She entered the lobby and followed the gold-plated signs past the still-closed gift shop, up a flight of stairs to the second floor and down a hallway to a set of double doors. Hesitating for just a second, just long enough to take a calming breath, she opened the door, stepped inside and walked up to the young woman seated behind a low-slung counter.

  “Hello. May I help you?”

  “Yes, Marissa Hayes to see Donovan Drake.”

  The perky receptionist with the warm, sincere smile touched a button on her switchboard. After announcing that Marissa had arrived, she asked if Marissa wanted a morning beverage. After Marissa declined, the receptionist directed her to a seat in a cozily designed waiting area just across from the receptionist counter. Instead of sitting, Marissa took the time to admire the brightly colored artwork, the bronze table whatnots and the live jade plant.

  “Ms. Hayes?” Marissa turned to see another smiling, welcoming face. As she followed this assistant back through a beautifully appointed space—silk-covered, beige-colored walls, deep-ply tan carpeting, burnished mahogany and accessories in various metals—she was struck by the irony of life, how not so long ago her world seemed bleak and almost unbearable. Her parents’ relocation, a friend’s betrayal and leaving a job she loved as a result of that betrayal had sent Marissa’s world into turmoil where she questioned all and trusted none. Then she’d met Jackson Wright and got the job with Boss Construction. The work, her fellow employees and her trustworthy boss became her anchors, and she was content to build her world around them. She hadn’t thought about dating or bringing a significant other into her life. So why was she thinking about it now?

  The answer was just around the corner, talking on the phone as he waved her in. The assistant who’d brought her to Donovan’s office gave a brief nod and closed the door on her way out. Marissa forced herself to meet Donovan’s eyes, hooded brown treasures that seemed to drink her in as she walked to one of two chocolate-colored leather chairs in front of his massive oak desk. She sat down, placed her hands in her lap, feigned a deep interest in the trappings of Donovan’s office and resigned herself to the fact that these were going to be the longest two weeks of her life.

  Chapter 8

  “I look forward to meeting with you. Ha! Yes, I’ll pack my golf clubs. You’re past due for a whipping on the green. All right then, goodbye.” Donovan stood as he placed the phone back on the cradle. “Good morning,” he said with his hand outstretched, his tone clipped and businesslike.

  “Good morning.” Marissa stood and clasped his hand.

  And there was that jolt of electricity again.

  “Ooh! I must have…rubbed my heel against the carpet.”

  Donovan quickly removed his hand and walked back behind his desk. He was not at all happy at his body’s reaction to seeing Marissa this morning, or at her audacity to look so delicious. This is work; not a fashion show! “I see there’s one thing I forgot to mention,” he said as they both retook their seats. “Initially, you’ll be spending a lot of time retrieving information from stored boxes and then schlepping those files containing the information here to be inputted into our database. Did you pack anything more casual?” Plain, dowdy, loose-fitting, something that doesn’t hug your curves like a sports car?

  Marissa looked down at her dress as though she’d forgotten what she was wearing. It had taken her more than an hour to decide on what she thought was a simple yet becoming navy dress and three-inch pumps; she’d felt they looked appropriately serious with her hair pulled back in a plain ponytail, with a couple tendrils kept loose near the sides of her head and the nape of her neck. “I packed a couple pairs of jeans for after hours,” she responded. “And flats for when I wasn’t on the job.”

  “This morning, I’ll give you an overview of what will be happening during your time here, show you around the office, let you see where you’ll be working. After lunch, you’ll want to change into something more comfortable—” immediately Donovan’s mind went somewhere it shouldn’t “—into something that you won’t mind getting dirty.”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” Donovan paused, wishing he could think of some other reason to chide her. As long as he was putting her in her place, he figured he could forget about putting her in his bed; the singular thought that had occupied his conscience since they’d last met. “Why don’t we start by
introducing you around.”

  For the next half an hour, Marissa met those in the sales area where she’d be doing some of her work and was also shown the break room, bathroom, lounge and gym. After that, Donovan left her—translated, dumped her off—with Diamond’s assistant, Kathleen Fitzpatrick, who had graciously delayed her vacation by one day to familiarize Marissa with the system used companywide. Tomorrow, a representative from the new program that had been installed would walk her through how to transfer the data. After her working lunch, where Kathleen continued to show Marissa the straightforward yet multilayered program, Marissa changed from dress to jeans, and she spent the afternoon in the storage room amid thousands of files recently received from Asia. That’s where Donovan found her around six o’clock.

  Or rather her booty, because that’s what his eyes zoomed in on as he rounded the corner, pushed against the pulled-to-but-not-shut door in the files room and saw her. She’d emptied a box and had set up some type of system on the floor by which she was organizing the papers inside. At the time, he’d thought it a good idea to get her out of that mouthwatering navy number, to suggest she lose her heels and choose something more suited for the task at hand. But he didn’t know that she’d look as sexy in a pair of black jeans, a printed cotton top and a pair of wedge-style black sandals as she did in the dress. He watched her and noted how when concentrating her brow furrowed slightly and she nibbled on her lip in a way that he’d like to. He felt himself getting warm and growing hard, and his admiration quickly turned to irritation. He didn’t have time to be ogling the help. He wasn’t at all interested in pursuing a relationship and, since her boss was his brother-in-law, didn’t think he’d score so well with a one-night stand. No, he had to stay in firm and absolute control of this situation; be the boss in every way possible. Yes, that’s right. You’re the boss. You’re the one in control here. If he repeated this mantra long enough, maybe it would come true.