Shari knew her family was completely off the mark. Andre’s father was gorgeous, sexy, smart, millionaire Grant Robinson. A man she’d never fully gotten over, and now she was about to spend the evening with him.
She’d debated with herself on what to wear, but had finally settled on a simple V-neck, sleeveless, jersey wrap dress. It showed a hint of cleavage, but not too much. She paired it with hoop earrings and simple sling-back sandals. She couldn’t wear stilettos like her little sister Monica and would probably fall over if she tried. It was the best she could do with short notice and her meager wardrobe. Monica and Belinda were always telling her to spruce up her appearance if she wanted to find a man, but Shari liked her jeans. Plus, she couldn’t pull off the hip Forever 21 clothes and stilettos like Monica or the designer clothes like Belinda.
Luckily, she didn’t have too long to wonder if her outfit was good enough because Grant arrived promptly at 7:00 p.m. When she opened the door, Grant was holding a bouquet of roses.
“For me?” Shari touched her chest.
“Of course.” Grant handed the flowers to her. Then his eyes gave her an appreciative once-over from head to toe. He must have liked the canary-yellow dress she was wearing because he commented, “You look beautiful tonight, Shari, but then again, you always did.”
Shari blushed furiously. His compliment gave her butterflies and she was luxuriating in the moment, which was why they stood there for several more awkward moments in the foyer, both looking at each other, before Grant finally asked, “May I come in?”
Shari blinked several times. “Oh, yes, c’mon in.” She motioned for him to follow her inside.
* * *
Grant looked around and was impressed by the warm home Shari had created. The large living room area had a rust-colored sectional sofa, colorful pillows and several interesting sculptures. The walls were filled with pictures of her family and Andre. Andre. Who could be his son!
He’d come to Chicago with a dual purpose of having Lillian’s desserts sold at Robinson Restaurants, but also to seek Shari out and see if the passion they’d shared once was still there. But now, everything was different. He could be a father and it was weighing heavy on his heart. He had to know the truth. So tonight was a way for him to spend time with Shari, but it was also a truth-seeking mission to find out if he or Shari’s college boyfriend was Andre’s father.
Grant swallowed and forced himself to follow Shari as she gave him a short tour of her home. She pointed out the dining room, the master suite with en-suite bathroom and Andre’s room, which was painted like a locker room and filled with his toys. They ended the tour in the kitchen with granite countertops and a breakfast nook.
“So what do you think?” Shari asked, turning around to face him. “Not bad for a single mom, huh?”
“Not bad at all,” Grant replied. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you.” Shari smiled broadly. “You ready to go?”
Several minutes later, they were seated in his sleek Mercedes Benz with leather interior. “You’re driving yourself?” Shari commented when he helped her into the passenger seat before sliding in behind the wheel.
“Yes, does that surprise you?”
“Well, I had heard you’d had a driver earlier.”
“He came and got me from O’Hare and took me to my penthouse on Lake Shore Drive where I keep my Benz.”
“I didn’t realize you had a home in Chicago.” It made her nervous to think that Grant had been so close and she hadn’t even known it. He could have easily discovered the truth about Andre at any moment.
“Well, I’m in the final stages of acquiring a new restaurant in Lincoln Park, so I thought it would be prudent to have a home here rather than live out of a suitcase.”
“Sounds smart, and real estate is always a wise investment. So where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He drove them to Smooth, soon to be the newest Robinson Restaurant in Lincoln Park. Situated along restaurant row near DePaul University, Smooth had the right location to get the young business set and college kids, which kept business steady and created a good income stream.
“You like?” Grant said when they entered the building.
The restaurant was upscale with a wood-paneled ceiling, gleaming tile floors and a carpet inlay. White cushioned booths surrounded the main dining room while oak tables and chairs were in the carpet inlay. A circular bar surrounded the lounge area that had comfy couches and chairs and large televisions mounted to the wall. The lounge doors were opened to let the spring air in.
“It’s lovely, Grant,” Shari commented. It had an elegant, quiet style that Shari found appealing.
Grant smiled. “Thank you.”
The hostess sat them in the private Cellar room made of glass; one wall was filled with various wines from floor to ceiling, and a single table complete with tablecloth, candles and fine china and cutlery awaited them in the center of the room.
“Mr. Robinson, your private waiter Juan will be with you momentarily,” the hostess said.
“Thank you,” Grant replied, helping Shari into her seat before taking his own.
This was all very fancy, Shari thought to herself, for two friends catching up on old times. Was Grant trying to impress her? If so, he was doing a good job. She rarely got out of the house anymore. Being a single parent precluded her from going out to party like other single women her age. Andre’s needs preempted her own and had forced her to grow up pretty quickly.
“You’ve really outdone yourself,” Shari added, glancing around the room.
Grant smiled warmly at the compliment. “I was determined to carve out a place for myself other than what my parents had built. You know, be my own man.”
Shari nodded. She understood. It was hard sometimes at Lillian’s with so many chiefs who all wanted the spotlight and not enough Indians. It was why sometimes she was content to just fade into the background. It was easier than dealing with all the family drama.
“I remember you mentioning that your parents expected you to take over the family business.”
“Yeah, there was a lot of pressure from Pops to settle down.”
“You sure did that quick,” Shari said, and then realized she spoke out of turn and reached for her water glass to take a sip.
Grant laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re right. I got married entirely too quickly. Dina convinced me to have a quickie wedding in Las Vegas a few months after graduating with my MBA from Ledgeman.”
Shari wasn’t surprised Dina would be in a rush, especially considering she’d probably stolen several Lillian recipes around the same time, so she could open up her own bakery a couple of years later.
“I regretted that marriage almost from the start,” Grant continued, “which is why it only lasted less than a year.”
“A year?” Shari was shocked. Grant had been single this entire time? All this wasted time... But so what? Had she known sooner, would she have done anything differently? Would she really have been able to show up to his doorstep with Andre in tow?
“Yeah, it was a mistake,” Grant answered honestly. “Dina and I were cut from the same cloth. Driven and determined to succeed. We didn’t mesh well. Everything was always a competition with her, even in our marriage.”
Shari wasn’t surprised by that statement. She’d come to realize after leaving Ledgeman that she’d been in a competition herself with Dina and hadn’t really known it.
The waiter entered the room, introduced himself and suggested several wines. Grant chose one of his recommendations, which the waiter produced several minutes later. He poured a sip for Grant to taste and after he did, Grant nodded his approval. The waiter filled his glass and poured one for Shari.
After they’d ordered soup for starters and their entrées, Grant turned t
o Shari. “Enough about me and my failed marriage. I want to hear more about you and what you’ve been up to the last five years. But first let’s toast. To old friends.” He raised his wineglass and openly stared at Shari.
Shari found it hard not to be flattered by the attention Grant was bestowing on her. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be with a man. She’d denied herself for too long. “To old friends.” She clicked her glass against his. “So what do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, how about you and Thomas Abernathy?” Grant supplied.
A lump formed in her throat. Shari was surprised Grant even remembered Thomas’s name because she’d only mentioned him a few times in passing. “What about him? We hung out in college.”
“Well...after you and I were together, after we made love...” Just the words caused a blush to spread across Shari’s cheeks. “Well, I thought we might date, but then Dina told me that Thomas was planning to propose to you. That he was an old-fashioned guy and wanted his bride to be a virgin on their wedding night. I felt horrible after our night together, like I’d ruined your plans for your life. But now after seeing Andre...” His voice trailed off.
No wonder Grant felt free to pursue Dina! Dina had ensured it by spreading lies about her and Thomas. Shari wondered what other lies Dina told him.
“Andre?” Shari swallowed hard. She knew what Grant was implying. He’d assumed like everyone else in the Drayson family that Thomas was Andre’s father.
The waiter returned with their soups and Shari sunk her spoon in the creamy mixture and brought it to her lips. The lobster bisque was bright and lush and full of flavor. She didn’t like the direction the conversation had turned. She wanted to tell Grant that Andre was his son, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Once he found out, hellfire was sure to rain down on her. She could only imagine how angry he would be with her for keeping the truth from him. Was she being selfish by wanting one more night with him that was just about her and nothing more?
After several moments, she said, “Andre’s a great kid. He’s smart and funny. He loves to build things and is always asking questions. He’s always getting into things. He keeps me on my toes.”
“Sounds like a pretty amazing kid,” Grant offered.
She tried not to make it obvious that she’d purposely steered the conversation away from Andre’s parentage and more into generalities. The subject made her so nervous that she had to fight fidgeting in her seat. Instead, she forced a bright smile.
“He is,” she said as she continued eating her soup. “He’s the love of my life. Having him was the best decision I ever made.”
“How did your family take your pregnancy?”
“They were understandably upset,” Shari replied. “They expected me to go to graduate school for my MBA, but it wasn’t possible.”
“You didn’t go?” Grant asked. “Oh, Shari, you were so talented. You had a knack for business.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying so, but it would have been difficult with a big belly. I didn’t want to see the stares of the other students.”
“I noticed you haven’t mentioned Thomas. Did you go through your pregnancy alone?” Grant circled back to an unwelcome topic.
“Have you met my family?” Shari attempted a laugh even though she felt far from jovial. “I wasn’t alone. Eventually, they came around and embraced me and my son.”
“I’m so glad. And now you’re working at Lillian’s?”
“Yes, I’m a baker. You see, we all play a role at Lillian’s. My cousin Belinda is tied to Grandma Lillian’s apron strings. Belinda keeps the kitchen organized by ordering me, her fiancé, Malik, and my cousin Carter around, even though we’re all excellent bakers. Malik, Carter and my cousin Drake are doing a blog called ‘Brothers Who Bake,’ and now there’s talk about a cookbook.”
“You sound very impressed with your cousins, but downplay yourself. Why is that?”
It was very intuitive of Grant to feel her ambivalence about her place in the Drayson family.
“With your business degree, you should be running Lillian’s.”
“I know, I know,” Shari said, lowering her head. “And I did by suggesting we sell our bake mixes, which Grandma Lillian implemented. It’s just difficult hearing your voice amongst my loud, rambunctious family.”
“Then talk louder,” Grant offered, and Shari finally chuckled, which helped lighten the mood.
The remainder of the evening was breezy and light with Grant and Shari easily discussing movies, music, cooking and traveling. Shari discovered Grant was well-traveled and had been to Europe, the Middle East and even Africa. She was envious. She’d always wanted to travel, but now that Andre was about to start kindergarten, she was going to be restricted to summer breaks only.
They finished the evening at Chicago’s oldest blues club off North Halsted, which was nearly full to capacity. The bar had two stages and two bands. The club was crowded with people lining the walls, drinking at the bar or chowing on their infamous barbecue ribs. Immediately upon entering, Shari noticed the Wall of Fame, which had pictures of the famous blues singers that had sung there. They chose to sit at one of the small, intimate round tables that circled the North Stage.
They listened to some of the best traditional blues Chicago had to offer. The band was great, from the explosive guitar to the sweet sounds of the legendary harmonica. Grant and Shari even got up at one point to share a dance.
She was surprised when Grant suggested it because there were no couples on the floor. Usually Shari hated to be the center of attention, but because Grant was asking, she acquiesced. And she was glad she did.
Being held in Grant’s arms was everything she’d dreamed it would be. He was strong, yet gentle as he swayed her to the soft bluesy music. He smelled so manly, earthy and woodsy. She breathed him in, resting her head against his solid chest. At one point, she thought she felt him stroke her shoulder-length hair, but then she realized she was fantasizing too much. Tonight was just about two friends catching up, because surely it couldn’t be anything more.
Hours later on the drive to the Drayson family estate at Glenville Heights, they were both introspective, each content with the quiet and the other’s presence. Shari had asked Grant to drop her at her parents’ home so she could give Andre a kiss good-night and be there when he woke up. Grant hadn’t seemed to mind.
When they arrived, the porch light was still on for Shari. She’d called ahead and told her parents she’d be staying over.
Grant turned off the engine and turned and looked at Shari. “I had fun tonight,” he said, but didn’t move a muscle.
“I did, too,” Shari said, wringing her hands in her lap. If this was any other date, she might expect a kiss at the end of the evening, but this was Grant. A man she hadn’t seen in years, but with whom she shared a son. What was supposed to happen next? Her anxiety was only increasing because Grant hadn’t made a move toward the door. He seemed to be waiting for something, but what?
After several long moments, he said, “I guess we should get you inside.”
Shari turned and hazarded a glance in Grant’s direction. Desire lurked in those depths, but he seemed to be warring with himself about whether to act on it. She was disappointed when he finally pushed the door open and slid out of the driver’s seat. Seconds later, he was opening her door and pulling her out of the car.
Shari used her key to open the front door and turned on the foyer light. That’s when she heard the pitter-patter of little feet as her son Andre came bounding down the stairs to her. She bent down and he rushed into her arms. Her little boy had waited up for her.
“Someone should be asleep,” she scolded as she lifted her son into her arms.
“I know, Mommy, but you never go away at night,” Andre said, “and I couldn’t go to sleep. I missed you.” He planted
a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek.
“I missed you, too,” she said, hugging him tightly to her chest, even though she was mortified that Andre had revealed her lack of a love life to Grant. But what could she do? It was already out there. Andre continued chattering on, asking her where she went and what she ate, but Shari barely heard a word because Grant was watching the two of them closely.
She felt so guilty holding Andre. How was she going to tell Grant that Andre was his son? And would he ever forgive her?
Eventually, she lowered Andre to the floor. “You go upstairs to your room.” Her parents had made a bedroom especially for their grandson, complete with a Toy Story theme. “And I’ll be up in a second to tuck you in. Mommy has to say goodbye to her friend.”
She watched Andre pad up the stairs to his room before turning to face Grant. “Thank you for a lovely evening. It was nice getting dressed up. I’d forgotten what it was like.”
Grant didn’t speak. Instead, he leaned down toward her and Shari’s heart caught in her chest. Was he about to kiss her? It was quite the opposite. He looked directly at her and said, “Were you ever planning on telling me?”
Shari was stunned by the change of events. “Excuse me?” She stalled, playing dumb, even though she knew that the truth had caught up to her.
“He’s mine, isn’t he?” Grant asked, looking up the staircase.
Shari was speechless and didn’t...couldn’t say a word.
“I don’t understand you, Shari. I gave you all night.” Grant shook his head in despair. “All night to be honest with me and tell me the truth about Andre. We talked about college and I confided in you about my failed marriage to Dina. I asked you repeatedly about Thomas, but instead, you still said nothing.”
Shari finally snapped out of her shock long enough to say, “I’m so sorry, Grant.” Her voice broke. “I...I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Grant took a sharp intake of breath. “You would have continued letting me think that Thomas Abernathy was Andre’s father, wouldn’t you?”
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