Have Your Cake

by Roi, D. S.

  “Cyana—”

  “No, Asher, I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

  He cursed. She turned from him, exiting the kitchen. Sally hovered in the peripheral vision of her right eye.

  “KiKi,” Sally called.

  Cyana halted on the ripple of irritation jolting up her spine. Sally couldn’t have been talking to her, but all the workers were outside. Cyana pivoted. “Excuse me?”

  “Kiesha, Shalaun, LaToya. Whatever.” Sally waved frivolously. “If the thing out front belongs to you, plan on parking it at the beginning of the driveway and walking from now on, or find something more appealing to drive over.” She stretched the word out to make her point. “The Milway must maintain a certain level of appearances.” Her voice fluctuated into a lighter octave while she held both her arms out to showcase the empty space. “You do understand, don’t you?”

  “My name is Cyana. I heard you.” She twirled away from Sally and traveled out the front door.

  Emotions rose in her throat as she trotted down the stairs. A Premium Mustang GT sat behind her Gremlin. Too different. We’re just different.

  She settled into the seat of the classic coupe with a knot swelling in her throat. She leaned her head back against the headrest and gasped for air to stifle the pending breakdown. She closed her eyes but a tear escaped.

  “Stop it, Cyana.” She coached herself until she became calm. With a sigh, she settled the Huffin Muffin portfolio on the passenger seat, but noticed something was missing. “Aw crap.” She flopped back into the driver’s seat, pressing her hands to her forehead. “My purse.”

  “What in hell is eating you?” Asher charged from the kitchen.

  Sally turned to her hotheaded son. “It’s obvious the only person with the least bit of concern for this family’s name over the past decade has been me. I have an important event scheduled here today, Asher Wilmington.”

  “An unauthorized event.” Asher stopped short of his mother with both hands on his hips.

  “All the same. It would have been terrible for Giselle to see you with that,” Sally waved her hands around and feigned a shiver, “hoodlum.”

  “What!” Asher fisted his hands and took another step forward. Sally raised her chin to his challenge. The sight of defiance in her sparkling glare reminded him to reign in his emotions. This wasn’t about Cyana. It couldn’t have been. He paused in his stride, willing to play his mother to dig into her attitude. “You invited yourself into my home and insulted my guest over saving your precious Wilmington legacy? Very quaint.”

  “Asher.” Sally shifted on her heels and crossed her arms before sauntering back into the kitchen space. “You’ve turned down every match I’ve presented you. Shot down dates with beautiful women born of means. Since you have found some relief with your booty-call girl, perhaps you’d like to focus on a more suitable match.”

  “We’ve had this conversation before. It’s not like you and dad were the best role models. I don’t need your help with relationships.”

  She sucked her teeth and let out a frustrated groan, setting her clutch on the island. “You have only four years before the last of the money your father set in your trust fund is given to charity. You need to settle down in order to claim it.”

  “That’s what this is about?” he asked.

  “I seek only your best interest. You know it.” Sally pointed a prim finger towards the ground.

  “My best interest?” Asher gave a bitter laugh. “Since when have you had a reason to seek my best interest?”

  “I have reasons, Asher. You’re my son. Is it not enough?”

  “What’s your cut, Mother?”

  Sally gasped. “Asher?”

  “Oh, please. You’ve only showed concern for my interest where money’s involved. Unlike some people in this family, I don’t marry for money.”

  The sting of Sally’s strike lasted only seconds against his cheek. “Unpleasant, Asher Wilmington. You are not allowed to speak to me with such disrespect.”

  “With such truth,” he said.

  She leaned to him, pressing a finger into the center of his chest with enough pressure to make the spot sore. “You are rotten. You were a perfect little boy when you were born, but the moment you hit puberty you became some nasty beast.” She waved her hands over the length of him.

  “I became a man. Did it frighten you, Mother? Did it scare the living day lights outta you and Gerald that I could think for myself?”

  “Gerald is your father. You should call him so.”

  “I think not.”Asher emitted a contempt laced chuckle.

  “Asher Theodore Wilmington, at times your behavior disgusts me. Thinking for yourself got you where? Arrested. Breaking and entering. Assault. Possession. Rehab. Do you not remember?”

  “Now, I’ve been walking the straight and narrow.” He swiped his hand, palm down, across his midline. “I’m my own man. My thoughts. My deeds got me here.” He pointed to the polished floors.

  “You have an obligation to this family after what you’ve done to scar its name.” Sally took a step forward.

  “Is that what you told David after what he’d done?” Asher bit the words out and regretted them the moment they passed.

  Sally’s mouth clamped shut. A hand went to her stomach. She took a step back.

  “How dare you bring your brother into this?” she hissed, with a glimmer of tears.

  His chest ached from his foul maneuver. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. An asshole move on my part. But, you’re pissin’ me off enough to spit fire.”

  “That’s no excuse,” she jeered. “You both neglected your father’s legacy. He worked so hard for you boys.” Sally’s tears finally spilt over and nailed the coffin shut on his guilt level.

  He puffed out a breath. “Mother, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup for the photo shoot.”

  She sucked her teeth. “How can I not with you rubbing salt in old wounds?” She gasped for a breath and knit her brow in her classic attempt to get a hold of her emotion. “If Giselle had seen you, word could have gotten back to Sophia.”

  “Ah hell.” Asher pressed his fingertips to closed lids. “I forgot about her.”

  “Language Asher. Though I must admit, your little fling could have ruined the wedding.”

  “Fling? No one said Cyana was a fling. This damned thing you’ve got me setup on with Sophia is more of a fling than Cyana.”

  “Sophia is an educated woman of means. Well bred-”

  “I’m not looking for a horse, Mother,” he cut in.

  “Asher,” she hissed. “What is this ungrateful demeanor?”

  “Woman, you just keep jerkin’ my chain.” Asher’s hands went to his hips. He bent a little lower to his mother and squinted.

  “Sophia is a good girl.” Sally’s retort came with fire in it. “Pretty and more on your level. You will be her date for this event. You will behave and remain in good manners. You will be photographed together and make a lovely couple.”

  “Oh, I love it.” He chuckled. “Arranged fake dating. What the hell is this about?”

  “She has an attraction for you, Asher. I thought you would be thrilled to have a woman of class and beauty at your side during such a prestigious event.” Sally shrugged before crossing her arms.

  “Really? You marry me off to one of your crones; you get a percentage of the funds Gerald left behind. Is that it?”

  “Stop it,” she said, dropping both arms down to her side.

  “You get to prove to your stuffed-shirt, retired, millionaire judge maybe your kids aren’t such screw-up’s. Then you might be worth a slice of his pie.”

  “Asher Wilmington, I said stop.” Her brow was furrowing into angry lines.

  “Well, he’s too old to cut the mustard, but maybe he’ll marry you and pamper you the rest of his ten years of livin’. Even if you sign a prenuptial, you’ll be mighty comfortable for a while. How much dough does it take for Sally to step on Cyana’s toes? To treat a decent human bein
g like trash?”

  “She is trash,” Sally hissed. “Make certain you throw her away before the wedding.”

  Asher’s hands tightened into fists. He growled, pivoted away from his mother and froze. “Cyana?”

  She stood at the doorway wide-eyed. Her voice traveled out small. “I left my purse on the table.”

  “Handle it.” Sally spit the words out to Asher. “I’m stepping outside for a smoke.” She twirled on her five inch heels and sashayed towards the glass doors.

  He turned to fetch Cyana’s belongings. She hadn’t moved from the spot when he returned. Her face was drawn; sights teamed with hurt. She trembled, reaching out for the handbag and nearly snatched it to run.

  He caught her wrist. “Hold on, Philly.” He tugged her back to him, glimpsing the flash of her gaze before she lowered her face toward the floor. It was too late. He witnessed the tear spill before she could hide it. Pain racked his chest. “Dammit, Cyana, this changes nothing.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t, Asher. We both know this won’t work. Not in the way you need it. I have to go.” She clutched her purse to her chest before wiping at the tear and looking up to him. “Thank you for your help.” She set a kiss on his cheek before scurrying off.

  The first sob ripped from her as she cleared the Milway gates. Cyana slapped her hand to her mouth to hold back. Loss tore through her, twisted her gut into a knot. The tears stung before they streamed her cheeks. We’re just too different.

  She was far too emotional to drive and maneuvered the small vehicle off the road. Cyana buried her face in her hands as waves of grief racked her body.

  She parked the Gremlin in the Huffing home driveway and sucked in a few breaths. A deep ache settled in her chest before she opened the car door and climbed the stairs. The aroma of spareribs and vegetables invaded Cyana’s nose, instantly wetting her mouth. Through the walkway from the side door, she could see Iona standing at the counter and plating.

  “Just in time,” Iona said without looking up. “I hope you’re hungry because it’s taste test time for course number four.”

  “I’m starved,” Cyana said. She set her purse on the counter and took a seat at one of the stools next to Mama. Iona filled four bowls with a brown sauce and dropped four fat ravioli into it at a straight line before finishing it off with cheese and green onion garnish. She heaped a dollop of light green cream on the side of each plate.

  “Ms. Sally Wilmington finally got us a guest list,” Mama said from the laptop.

  The mention of Sally knotted Cyana’s middle.

  “Um-hum. It’s got lots of VIPs on it, girl.” Iona glanced up to make eye contact. By the knit in her brow, Cyana knew the question was coming. “What’s wrong?”

  Cyana groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Iona slid the plates over to the bar area of the kitchen counter and wiped her hands clean before grabbing spoons.

  “Did things not go well over at the Milway?” Mama asked.

  “The cakes are fine. Mama, they look great.” Cyana smiled.

  Iona rounded the large counter separating the cooking area from the dining room and handed out the flatware. “Then why the long face?” she asked.

  “I met Sally.” Cyana grabbed her spoon.

  “So, how did it go?” Iona posed the question while fetching Josiah from the playpen to set him in the high chair with a bowl of ravioli.

  “Fine,” Cyana said.

  “It doesn’t look like things went fine,” Iona spoke, chopping the meat-filled noodles into toddler pieces.

  “Well, I’m not able to drive my car up to the house anymore. I have to park it at the end of the driveway and walk to the mansion.

  “What?” Mama asked.

  “That’s crazy.” Iona declared over Josiah’s cry to “Eat mama.” She handed the boy his spoon. He dug into his food with gusto.

  Cyana smiled at his eagerness to get a hold of his mother’s cooking.

  “Apparently the Milway, or the Wilmingtons, must uphold some kind of standard appearance.”

  “Appearance?” Iona sat at the counter with a look of confusion.

  “Mm,” Mama said, “the appearance of wealth. I’ve seen her kind before.”

  “The woman is a complete snob. Can you believe she called me trash? Right in front of Asher like it was normal for her to talk about people like that.”

  Mama reached over and rubbed her back. The gesture sent a shot of soothing love into the hole created in Cyana’s chest.

  “I’m so sorry, Mama. I know she’s a client and Huffing Kitchen is really banking on this wedding, but the woman’s the devil.” Cyana shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking or what I hoped Asher and I could become. I can’t deal with people like her. She completely hurt my feelings and brought out some very angry energy in Asher. Scary energy.”

  “How much do you like this man, Cyana?” Mama asked.

  She stared at the beautiful plate in front of her for a moment. “I don’t know. I think…I started falling for him.” The confession brought on a new round of tears. Cyana covered her mouth to hide her face while she dropped her sight to her lap.

  “Oh, baby. Don't be upset,” Mama soothed and rubbed her back.

  “I can't help it.” The words barely whispered out between her fingers. She gulped for air. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again, but I gave my heart to him before I knew who he was.” She shook her head. “I can’t be in love with him. Mama, I can’t follow my heart. I don’t trust it to keep me safe.”

  18

  Cyana couldn’t remember the last time she loathed a day as much as she dreaded this one. Monday was always rough at the paper, mostly because she didn’t care for the job much. For now, it provided the income to support Eric and grow her startup capital. She worried her bottom lip and stared at the light against the ceiling.

  The edge of the bed shifted under the small weight. “Auntie.Up.”

  She smiled at Josiah before tugging him to lie next to her. He cuddled into her and shoved a thumb in his mouth. He flashed his grey-eyed stare, but after a few blinks, he gave in to tiredness. She ran her fingers through his light colored curls and sighed, tucking his fluffy duck under his arm. The morning’s not all bad.

  She waited until the scent of bacon hit her nose to scoop up the sleeping toddler. She cleaned him, admiring how heavily he slept through the entire process. Tugging him to her shoulder, she went downstairs to the kitchen. Iona smiled at her from the stove.

  “Good morning.”Cyana smiled at Iona.

  “Girl, mothering looks so good on you,” Iona said, while she tugged Cyana’s premade cinnamon roll dough from the fridge to arrange on a baking sheet.

  Cyana rubbed Josiah’s back. The thought of her undisciplined behavior with Asher warmed her cheeks. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Protection from STDs and pregnancy hadn’t been a part of her everyday life, but she threw caution to the wind with Asher. She should have been more careful. Her past was enough to make her aware of how strong her passionate desires could be. A quiver of regret ran through her belly. Her attraction to Asher took her strength. Or had twenty years just been too long? Had she made a mistake by vowing to keep her heart closed? Perhaps, if she’d practiced walking away, she could have mastered the art of goodbyes.

  A strong sense of wrong shunted through her system as she puffed a breath and headed deeper into the kitchen. No. That just wasn’t her. She was the responsible one, as Iona had said, focused on her son and her dream. Asher distracted her. She sat on the glider in the far corner of the dining area and rocked. She would be able to walk away if Asher hadn’t been such a good person, if he hadn’t felt right. Damn, even now she missed him. I can’t trust these emotions.

  “What time is the tasting today?” Iona asked, ripping her from regrets.

  A piercing jolt of anticipation seared through the butterflies in her belly at the thought of seeing Asher. Cyana took a long breath to gather her wit. “Thankfully, Rebe
cca will be at the mansion around one o’clock. That should be enough time to, I don’t know,” she shrugged her free shoulder, “get myself together.”

  “Do you want me to go with you? Just in case the bully is there. I can leave Josiah with Mama.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  Despite the early morning, one o’clock came faster than Cyana wanted. It was a good idea to ride with Iona. She needed the laugh and barely noticed when they entered the gate of the Milway.

  “Don’t even worry about Sally. Once Rebecca takes one bite of your cakes, the contract’s yours,” Iona assured.

  “I appreciate you coming along.”

  “No problem, Ce Ce. Just remember, the bride is the target. Not Sally.”

  The door to the Milway opened almost as soon as Iona parked the Civic out front. Asher sauntered to the top of the stairs accompanied by a slender auburn-haired beauty. Cyana’s heart thundered with such intensity she averted her gaze, staring at the couple’s feet before peeling herself from the passenger side seat.

  Her sister gave a large warm smile as she rounded the car. Iona approached the stairs with so much pep in her step Cyana struggled to keep up. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilmington.”

  “Good afternoon,” he said. Iona shook hands with Asher. “Iona, I would like for you to meet the bride, Rebecca. Rebecca, this is your caterer, Iona Huffing, Executive Chef of Huffing Kitchen. It’s also my pleasure to introduce her sister, Cyana, whose lovely cakes you’ll taste today.”

  Cyana shook hands with the bride after Iona and forced herself not to peer at Asher until she could be certain her heart wouldn’t leap from her chest.

  “Pleasure to meet you both.” Rebecca held a mild southern accent, sounding like a native Floridian. “Asher has had a time keeping me away from the fridge when he told me the cake samples were here.”

  He laughed. Warmth flooded Cyana with the rich sound. “Rebecca’s had something of a sweet tooth today.” Cyana caught his movement out of the corner of her eye and reminded herself not to look directly at him until she was sure her heartbeat was under control. Oh crap. This is so ridiculous. He reached around Rebecca’s shoulder. “Why don’t you lead the way, Darlin’?”