by Dakote Trace
"You make the best brownies I've ever tasted. As for what I'm doing, well, your sister and I made an agreement. I do your books and get the financial details in order and she feeds me your chocolates."
"Is this how you always react to my brownies?" His eyes turned darker as desire flared in them.
“You mean, as if I've died and gone to heaven? I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you that. You know you’re damn good at making chocolate delights and other yummies." She caught her breath in response to his heated stare.
"Well, I try." He watched her take another bite out of the brownie. When she moaned again, he felt himself harden behind the fly of his jeans.
Turning, he pulled his control around him like a shroud. He wasn't going to come on to a customer, no matter how sexy she looked eating his chocolates. He almost retreated back out to the front counter when he heard that sexy whimper again. His resolve was melting faster than his chocolate.
He wasn't going to hit on customer, he told himself again—especially a white one. He knew he had a prejudice against white women, but as he listened to her happy sound as she ate his confection, he wondered if it was a prejudice he might be willing to conquer for Annabelle. But he didn't know how to combat the hurtful note Hestia had left—Annabelle surely thought he must be a prejudiced ‘son of bitch’.
* * * *
Annabelle watched as he walked back out to the front counter. Damn, the man had a tight ass, she thought; then she sobered as she thought about the note Hestia had left. She wasn't sure she was up to changing a man's mind on something so ingrained. Propping herself on the edge of the work counter, she waited for him to return. Tonight, maybe, she should teach him about trust. It would take a special woman to show Zephyrus Raincloud that not all white women were untrustworthy and beneath him. It would be a huge undertaking—even more of a challenge than getting through his paperwork. But was she emotionally ready for the roller coaster ride that it was bound to take her on? No, she decided, she wasn't going to hit her head against that wall ever again. With a huge sigh, she turned around and walked back into his office toward the waiting mountain of papers.
* * * *
Zephyr watched in amusement as the chocolate miniature slowly disappeared into Annabelle's mouth. She sighed with pleasure as she continued to pour over the diminishing pile of paperwork in front of her.
"You know, Zephyr, it wouldn't take that much to get all of this stuff organized." She swallowed her mouthful of decadent chocolate and winked at him.
"Then you’re hired!"
"What?" She looked up at him in disbelief.
"I've been thinking about it, the amount you’ve accomplished so far in just these few hours is absolutely amazing. And if it’s as easy as you say it is, then it will be even easier for me to hire you to do it. I'll even throw in all the chocolates you want." He winked at her as if he’d found the cure for the common cold.
"Zephyrus, I don't know if I can work for you." She stood up and started pacing across his office.
"Why?"
"Because...” She hesitated, and then just blurted it out. “Because, frankly, I find you very attractive, and I know you won't date me because I'm white. I can’t be here eating my heart out everyday. As much as I love your chocolates, I can't afford to fall in love with you, and then have nothing come of it because of your beliefs."
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
She sighed. "And I think it's now time for me to leave."
“I understand.” He nodded. “I have a spare key. I’ll let you out.”
Her relief was visible— In her embarrassment, she had completely forgotten they were locked in.
"Will I see you in the shop, Annabelle?" He stared at her intensely as if he was willing her to answer yes.
"Let’s just say, it’s a good thing you have a delivery service, because I don't think I can keep coming in here and seeing you...but I know I can’t stop eating your wonderful, delicious chocolates."
Zephyrus reluctantly went to the old filing cabinet in the office closet
and dug out the spare key hidden with the other important documents. He
unlocked the front door, and waited and watched as Annabelle silently left.
* * * *
Annabelle had barely made it home before the tears started to flow. She hadn't lied to Zephyr—she’d meant every word she said. She’d realized, when she faced the thought of not seeing him again, she’d lied to him by default. There was no falling in love with the man—she was already there, which to her seemed as illogical as rain falling on the moon. She hadn't known him in any way other than the occasional hello across the chocolate counter. They’d never even really talked together before this evening….so how could ‘falling in love’ have happened?
She’d heard plenty about him from Joseph, her cousin—Zephyr was his hero. But even being raised in her adopted family, the Whitebears, she knew what deeply held prejudices she’d be up against. They were the same ones she’d fought since she realized it hadn't mattered she lived almost her whole life with the Native Americans—
they still saw only her white skin, inherited from her dead mother. They couldn't or
wouldn’t see the Indian blood running in her, from her Native American Apache father. To most Native Americans, she was simply an outsider.
* * * *
The next morning, Hestia hesitantly opened the front door. She wasn't sure what she expected to find; but her brother sitting in his office all by himself was a unexpected shock.
"Good morning, Hestia." He glanced up from his book.
"Zephyr." She looked quickly around his office.
"If you're looking for your friend, Annabelle, she’s gone."
"How?"
"Do you think you’re the only one with a key to the front door?" He took the key out of his pocket and showed it to her. “Remember the spare key in the filing cabinet?”
"Well, I..." She looked at him nervously. When he surged to his feet, she stepped back a quick step. She’d never been scared of her brother before, but her mother could be right. She might have pushed him a bit too far this time.
"I should shake you, Hestia – maybe even spank you! But instead I'm gonna give you a sound piece of my mind. Don't ever try to lock me in again. It wasn't fair to me or to Annabelle. Did you know, big sister, she actually came out and told me she found me attractive?"
"No." She backed up another step.
"Well, she did. I've had plenty of women come on to me; but never like tha. She was upset."
"I didn't mean for that to happen," she said quickly.
"I ended up hurting her. Without even doing anything—all because she saw your note." Stopping right in front of his sister, he pulled her chin up to look her straight in the eyes.
"I was damned before I even got out of the gate. If you’d have left it alone, Hestia, I would’ve gone about it the old-fashioned way. I had plans for her yesterday, big sister. When Annabelle came in – as she usually does—I was going to ask her if I could court her."
"You were?" she squeaked. Nodding, he released her chin and turned reluctantly back towards his much neater desk.
"Yes. I decided I should take a chance on it. Dad's views have been clouding my better judgment for so long. I had to decide if it was Dad's views—or my own feelings towards some whites that caused my distrust." He sat back down.
"So what are you going to do?"
"It's not what I'm going to do, Hestia. It's what you're going to do," he said firmly. "You got me into this mess, and now, you’re going to help me get out of it."
* * * *
Hestia stood in front of Annabelle's door, holding a large chocolate box from Zephyr. It had been about a week since the night she had so unsuccessfully tried her hand at matchmaking. Since then, she hadn’t heard one word from Annabelle—her friend hadn’t come to the shop even once. This morning when Hestia had come in to open the shop, she found her brother waiting for her. He had recei
ved an order via the Internet…which was no big deal, except the buyer asked that Hestia be the only one to deliver it.
When she saw the address, she realized why—it was Annabelle's home address. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. She wasn't prepared for what she saw, as Annabelle answered wearing a soft rumpled robe, her blonde hair piled on top of her head. Annabelle's face lit up with a soft smile when she saw the box in Hestia's hands.
"My chocolates," she whispered.
"Yes. Just don't kill the messenger." Hestia handed the box to her friend and backed up a step.
"Why would I kill you?" Annabelle started slicing open the tape holding the top on the box. She found out why when she looked inside the box—there were no chocolates, only a folded piece of paper. Frowning, she picked it up and opened it. After scanning it, the chocolate box hit the floor. She looked up at her friend.
"Wait right there." Turning, she rushed back to her bedroom, and when she came back a few minutes later, she was dressed in casual clothes. "Let's go."
"What's wrong?" Hestia had to sprint to keep up with her fast walking, taller friend.
"That bastard is holding my chocolate hostage. Doesn't the man know never to come between a woman and her chocolate?!"
Hestia decided it was in her best interest not to answer.
* * * *
Zephyr was in the kitchen when he heard the commotion from the front counter. He wasn’t surprised when Hestia came rushing into the kitchen.
"You deal with her," she told her brother. Smiling in anticipation, he dried his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder.
"With pleasure!" He headed towards the front. When he stopped behind the counter, he greedily drank in the sight of her.
"Raincloud, I don't know what you;re trying to pull, but I want my chocolates!" Annabelle said hotly.
"Of course, you do. And you also know what you need to do to get it." He grinned. She scowled at him first, and then reluctantly dug the badly crumpled note out of her pocket.
"Are you insane?" She threw his note back at him.
"Must be! I'm trying to take you out on a date." He winked at her.
"You don't date white women, remember? And I happen to be white."
He chuckled and walked around the counter. He took his own sweet time, looking her up and down, from her sneaker-clad feet to her pinned-up blonde hair; and Annabelle felt every second of his very heated gaze.
"That you are, Annabelle. But I still want to take you out." He stopped just a few inches from her.
"I don't care if you changed your mind, Raincloud. All I want is my chocolate." She met him toe to toe, trying not to flinch.
"Oh, I think you want more than just ‘chocolate’ from me," he said softly. He blinked in surprise at her expression—if looks could kill, Annabelle would have a dead Indian at her feet. "If you want your chocolates, Annabelle, you know where to find me and when." He turned and escaped into the kitchen. He chuckled when he heard her soft, frustrated scream. Smiling, he winked at his sister and went back to his work counter, continuing what he’d been doing when Annabelle and Hestia had interrupted his work.
"Why do I have a feeling you didn't give her the chocolates?" Hestia looked warily at the door from the kitchen to the front of the chocolate shop.
"Because I didn't." Zephyr continued frosting the chocolate mousse cupcakes in front of him.
"Oh! Please tell me you didn't just deny my friend her chocolate? Do you have a serious death wish?" She bent her head and groaned.
"Well, if she wants my chocolate so bad, she'll meet me tonight," he stated with a grin, even though he knew what he was doing could backfire. But Annabelle had been a very steady customer for almost two years; and he was willing to bet she’d meet him, even if it was just to get her chocolate fix.
* * * *
Annabelle couldn't believe she was giving into the man's bold demands. She’d gone as far as going to his competitor, but that was a mistake. Those other chocolates hadn't satisfied her cravings, and the caramel brownie she’d purchased hadn't tasted nearly as delicious as Zephyr's unique raspberry brownie. And part of her ‘hijacked’ order was two delicious slices of his raspberry brownies. The man had better have her chocolate, she fumed, or she was going to jump him, take his keys and help herself to a piece right out of his display case. Finishing with her hair, she grabbed the denim coat on the hook next to the door and let herself out of her apartment. It was time to go talk to a man about some chocolate.
* * * *
Zephyr waited patiently in the parking lot of the mini-golf course. He wasn't sure why he’d chosen this particular area to meet as he'd never played mini-golf in his entire life. It had to be because his sister had told him Annabelle loved playing it. Was this an example of the things he was going to do for this woman? He’d never seen an Indian play mini-golf before, but Joseph said his cousin, Belle, loved to play it. In fact, the little pipsqueak had even given him some hints how to play. He watched as Annabelle exited her car, excitement racing through his blood. He didn't care what they did, he thought, as long as they did it together. The waiting was almost over.
* * * *
Annabelle tried not to scowl as she walked towards Zephyr. She wasn't in the greatest of moods today—not only was she craving chocolate, but her traitorous body was calling out for the man waiting for her. And her heart was rejoicing at the thought of spending time with him. When she got close enough, she noticed he didn't have her chocolates with him. Her eyes narrowed and her bad mood intensified.
"Where's my chocolate?" She looked at him expectantly. When he shook his head, she growled uncompromisingly.
"Patience. I have it. At the end of our date, you'll get it." Taking a chance, he held out his hand. "Shall we go play some mini-golf?"
"Oh, you don't know what you are in for. I'll kick your butt all over this course."
"Care to make a wager on that?" They walked into the mini-golf’s entrance building.
"A wager?" She whistled, turning towards him. "You sure are feeling awfully brave tonight."
"Must be. So what do you say? What's a small wager between two friends?" He took her hand as they walked towards the equipment counter.
"Shall we say, I get an extra piece of chocolate for each hole I win?" She an arched eyebrow and withdrew her hand from his.
"Hmmm." He tried to look as if he was thinking about it, but he’d come prepared, knowing she would want more chocolates. "Okay, that's fine. You want to do it hole-by-hole? For each hole I win, I get an hour of your financial services. For each hole you one, one piece of chocolate.."
"An hour? In exchange for a measly piece of chocolate?" Annabelle scoffed. Picking out her club, she smiled at the teenaged boy behind the counter. After paying for their games, Zephyr picked out his own club.
"Okay, how about this – a half hour for each hole, and if I win the whole game—I get a kiss at the end of our date," he counter-offered.
"You really do believe in living dangerously. What do I get from you if I win the game?" She looked over at him as they entered the course. Setting her ball down, she lined it up for the first shot.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to make the dessert for a party I'm throwing next month."
"A party…Hmm, I can do that. But do you think a mere kiss is worth a dessert for a party? Talk about unequal!" He walked up behind her, close enough, but not quite touching her.
"Those are the stakes, Zephyr." She measured the distance between her ball and the hole.
" All right then. Do we have a wager?" He leaned over and softly whispered into her ear. Annabelle froze as pleasure ran down her spine. This man was becoming dangerous to her peace of mind.
"Yes." She quickly stepped away from him.
"All right then, lets start," he said with a big grin and a wink.
* * * *
By the time they’d reached the eighteenth hole, Annabelle was wondering what she’d gotten herself into. Eithe
r Zephyr had “beginners luck” or someone had coached him on the pitfalls of each hole. She was only ahead of him by one stroke, and he had won seven of last seventeen holes.
It would be an even draw if he won this hole. Considering it was the most difficult hole in the entire course, she knew she had the better chance at winning. As long as he didn’t sink this as a ‘hole in one’, she should be able to pull out the win.
As she lined up her shot, she was conscious of the fact he was standing close by. Telling herself not to get distracted, she swung the club back and hit the ball soundly. When it landed exactly where she wanted, she gave a little squeal of pleasure.
Moving aside, she watched as he lined up his shot. When he gave it a strong stroke that landed his ball right next to hers, she growled. He’d blocked her shot! Turning, she glared at him. Her anger was totally lost on him, since he was already heading across the green toward the 18th hole’s cup.
"You blocking my shot," she told him hotly.
"I'm just scoring up all kinds of points tonight."
"I'll show you scoring points," she elbowed him out of her way.
Rubbing his side where she had elbowed him, he smiled again. He decided he must be getting under her skin. The little vixen had squabbled the entire time they’d been playing. Hopefully the chocolates he had waiting would sweeten her disposition. Not that he didn't still find her as enchanting in this mood as he did in her 'groaning in ecstasy' mood, when she was eating his raspberry dhocolate brownie.
He smiled happily when she over-shot the cup by two feet. If he remembered correctly, Joseph had told him on the last hole – ‘less was more’. The green leading up to the hole was inclining, but just six inches before the hole, it had a steep decline. Hit the ball too hard and it flew over the cup. Just like Annabelle's had! Taking careful aim, he gave the ball just enough nudge to get it up the incline to the cup. It slowed as it reached the peak and then rolled quickly down the decline and landed with a thud, right in the cup.