Sweeter Temptation (Kimani Hotties)

by Bourne, Phyllis

  “Why? So he could turn you down?” Amy asked.

  “Maybe not.” Nia shrugged.

  “This idea is better,” Amy said. “It’s your best shot at him hearing out your proposal for Peppermint Village.”

  Nia chewed on her bottom lip. She still wasn’t sure about ambushing Kyle, but she didn’t see any alternative.

  “Are you sure he’s coming today?” Nia asked for the third time that morning.

  “Will you relax?” Amy crossed her arms over her chest. “His assistant told the factory president Mr. Ellison will be here at nine o’clock on the dot.”

  Nia took her friend’s advice and blew out a calming breath.

  It wasn’t as if she were proposing Ellison Industries prop up the failing factory like some kind of charity. She had come up with a solid proposal to turn it and Candy, Ohio, into a tourist destination that rivaled those in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and Santa Claus, Indiana.

  All she had to do is lay out the plan and hope his company would finance it.

  “Didn’t you say he was a nice guy?” Amy asked.

  “He is, but...”

  Amy raised a brow. “Is there anything else you want to tell me about him?”

  Since yesterday, her friend had been fishing for details about Kyle and how they’d spent their time snowbound. Nia had kept her answers brief. It would be hard enough to see him again today without reliving their hours at the farmhouse and in bed.

  “There’s nothing else to say,” Nia said.

  “Well then, we have nothing to worry about,” Amy said, “because there’s no way a nice guy can say no to an entire town.”

  * * *

  Kyle drove through the open chain-link gates of the Peppermint Lane Candy Factory’s entrance the next morning with thoughts of Nia foremost on his mind.

  Where in the hell had she gone, he wondered.

  Yesterday, he’d checked into the hotel Margie had booked for him in the neighboring town of Brookville, where both his rental car and cell phone charger were waiting. Then he’d spent the balance of the day checking in at work and arranging for his Ferrari to be picked up from the local garage and transported to a mechanic in Atlanta, who specialized in repairing the exotic automobiles.

  That night, he’d gone back to Nia’s place twice, but she hadn’t been home either time.

  He’d tried again on the way here. Still, no Nia.

  Kyle circled the factory’s employee parking lot before finding a vacant space. Sliding the car into it, he sat with the engine running staring at the once-majestic candy factory.

  Two candy canes that must have been red and white at one time, but were now a faded gray flanked the logo hanging above the doorway. It boasted Home of the World’s Best Peppermint Bark.

  The crumbling brick of the building’s exterior told another story. One of deterioration and neglect.

  “What were you thinking buying this place, Dad?” he asked aloud.

  Had David Ellison intended to pour the small fortune into it that it would take to restore the physical plant to its former glory? Not to mention the other updates it undoubtedly needed. Kyle shook off the notion. It simply didn’t sound like something his bottom-line oriented father would do.

  Then again, neither did buying the factory in the first place.

  Kyle sighed heavily.

  Like Nia’s grandmother’s mysteries, his father’s reasons would also remain secret.

  The buzz of his cell phone kept Kyle from ruminating any further.

  He pulled the phone from the inside pocket of the winter coat he’d purchased yesterday and saw his uncle’s private number flash across the screen. Another person he hadn’t been able to reach.

  “Marjorie filled me in on the weather delay, but I trust everything is back on track,” Jonathan Ellison said without preamble.

  “I’m outside the factory now about to go inside and meet with the president.”

  “Excellent. The sooner we shut down that money pit, the better.”

  Kyle thought of Nia and her plea.

  “Uncle Jon, the woman who took me in during the storm has some kind of proposal to turn the place around. I believe she deserves to be heard out,” he said.

  “The decision on the candy factory has already been made.”

  “But what if her plan is viable?” Kyle stared out at the downtrodden factory, which was still the lifeblood of the small town surrounding it. “Maybe her idea can transform this place into a moneymaker.”

  Kyle’s words were met with silence from the other end of the connection, and he heard Uncle Jon’s drawn-out sigh.

  “So what you’re telling me is you’ve been shacked up with some honey for two days, and you’ve forgotten your reason for being there,” his uncle said.

  “It wasn’t like that. She’s not like that,” Kyle argued, unable to tone down his annoyance.

  “This is business, son, not personal.”

  “I realize that.” Kyle understood how business worked, and he’d always done what was best for Ellison Industries.

  “Then start thinking with the head on your shoulders instead of the one in your pants,” his uncle said. “Maybe I should have sent Logan there to deal with this after all.”

  Kyle told his uncle goodbye, afraid he’d lose his cool if he stayed on the line a moment longer.

  “Hold on, there’s something else I needed to tell you,” Jonathan Ellison said.

  “Go ahead,” Kyle said.

  “I just want you to know Logan officially started work yesterday.”

  “Already?” Kyle asked, astounded. “He’s barely been on the scene three days. Weren’t you just lecturing on the distinction between business and personal?”

  “This is different. It’s family.”

  Family, they hadn’t seen or heard from in nearly twenty-five years, Kyle thought. “R-i-g-h-t,” he said aloud, exaggerating the word.

  “I want him to get his feet wet working with you on the new personal care unit,” he said. “He’s in your office now. Margie’s going over the particulars with him.”

  Son of a... Kyle managed not to swear aloud. The personal care division of Ellison Industries was his baby, and his uncle damn well knew it.

  One thing Uncle Jon was right about, Kyle needed to wrap up his business in Candy and get back to his office ASAP. Before Uncle Jon gave it to Logan, too.

  Kyle got out of the car and made his way toward the factory’s entrance. Lingering anger from his conversation with his uncle was just going to make the rough task he had ahead of him worse.

  He pushed open the factory’s door and stopped short. The factory’s foyer was packed with people, who at the sight of him broke out in applause. His eyes lit on a homemade banner hanging from the rafters reading, Welcome Ellison Industries.

  What the?

  Kyle immediately searched through the crowd for Nia. Whatever was going on here, he suspected she was behind it.

  He finally spotted her standing against a wall on the right side of the room. Instead of jeans, she wore a sexy pencil skirt that complimented her curves and showed off legs he remembered wrapped around his waist.

  Their eyes connected. Her face flushed and she averted hers. She’d been thinking along the same lines, he thought.

  Kyle’s eyes remained on Nia until a white-haired man, who identified himself as Candy’s mayor, grabbed his hand and gave it a vigorous shake.

  “Welcome, Mr. Ellison,” he said. “We decided to throw you a little reception to welcome you to town.”

  “I’m here on business, Mr. Mayor. Not to socialize. Now if you’ll just point out the factory’s president to me...”

  “Sure thing.” The mayor slapped him on the back. “We’ve been trying to talk to someone from Ellison for m
onths. So we couldn’t be more delighted you’re here. Surely, you can have a cup of coffee and maybe a cinnamon roll.”

  He called to a woman standing a few feet away. “Tina, honey, get our guest one of your homemade cinnamon rolls.”

  Within seconds, Kyle was holding a plate bearing a frosted sweet roll, and surrounded by a town full of people crammed into one room, all eager to talk to him.

  He blew out a sigh after finally extricating himself from a swarm of middle-aged women, who worked in quality control, showing off photographs of daughters who’d be perfect for him. Again, he scanned the room for Nia.

  “Mr. Ellison.” A gangly man removed a battered John Deere cap from his balding head extended his hand. “Butch Redmond.”

  Kyle nodded absently and shook it.

  “Just wanted you to know how much everyone in town appreciates you coming here personally. We were beginning to think Ellison Industries forgot about us.”

  Kyle nodded again. What else could he do? He needed to inform the company president of his decision, before anyone else. The mayor, who was supposed to point him out, had also done a vanishing act. No doubt his disappearance and Nia’s were no accident.

  They intended for him to spend as much time as possible meeting the factory’s employees.

  “I’ve been an employee here thirty years now,” Butch said. “I only have a high-school diploma, but I put three kids through college thanks to my job here.”

  “Congratulations, that’s a huge accomplishment, Mr. Redmond.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he said. “And call me Butch.”

  “You must be proud, Butch,” Kyle said, hoping to end the conversation. However, the crowd swarming around him made walking away impossible.

  “We’re pleased for our kids, but worried about the fate of other children in the community if the factory goes under. We’re all on pins and needles waiting to hear your plans to put Peppermint Lane back in the black,” Butch said.

  “That’s something I’ll need to discuss with the company president first, and we’ll make an announcement shortly afterward,” Kyle said.

  It was an explanation he repeated over a dozen times as he navigated the throng of people, their stories, handshakes and slaps on the back. All had good things to say about working at the factory and believed his visit meant Ellison Industries was prepared to pour money into it.

  Kyle had to admit, it would be harder to shut this place down now that he had faces and stories in his head instead of names on an employee roster. Hard, but not impossible.

  He still had a job to do, and the detour Nia had set up wouldn’t stop him from doing it.

  * * *

  Away from the boisterous crowd of the reception, Nia paced the worn carpet of the factory’s conference room.

  She’d sequestered herself in the upstairs room to give her friends and neighbors unencumbered access to the vice president of Ellison Industries and force Kyle to interact on a personal level with the people whose livelihoods he held in his hands.

  Nia hoped it was going as planned. Amy was supposed to do reconnaissance and return with a report, but Nia hadn’t seen her in over a half hour.

  She inhaled a gulp of air and slowly released it in hopes the breathing technique would help her focus. She should be reviewing her proposal to expand the factory and transform Candy into a winter-holiday tourist destination, not thinking about the man she hoped to sell on the idea.

  Easier said than done.

  She’d put her feelings for Kyle on the back burner earlier, throwing herself into decorating and organizing refreshments for the reception. Keeping herself too busy to think about how they’d left things between them.

  Watching him stride through the factory doors this morning put her tumultuous emotions and Kyle back in the forefront of her mind.

  The door to the room squeaked, and Nia spun around expecting to see Amy with an update. Instead, Kyle stood in the doorway.

  Looking at him now left no doubt he helped run a multimillion-dollar corporation. He’d shed his overcoat, revealing a European-cut gray suit. The jacket hugged the broad shoulders and rock-hard chest her fingers itched to touch again. While the crisp, white shirt emphasized the caramel tones of the brown skin she’d kissed all over.

  “You’re a hard woman to find these days.” He walked through the door and closed it firmly behind him.

  “Kyle.” Her heart was pounding so loudly, she barely heard his name fall from her lips.

  “I missed you last night,” he said.

  She’d missed him, too.

  Nia thought about how she’d spent the night tossing and turning. She only managed to fall asleep after abandoning the plush mattress of her bed with its memories of their lovemaking for the uncomfortable living room sofa.

  “I came back to the house so we could talk. Did you get my note?”

  “I didn’t get in until late,” she said.

  Kyle glanced around the room. “Planning all of this?”

  Nia nodded.

  “You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.” Kyle ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. “I told you I was coming back to talk.”

  “I couldn’t sit around and wait. I had to do something,” Nia said. “I thought if you got to know your employees it would help influence your decision.”

  Nia’s stomach clenched as she watched him slowly shake his head.

  “The factory’s fate was decided before I got here,” he said.

  Nia wasn’t above groveling. As frustrated as she was with it, her job was waiting on her at the end of her leave of absence. The people who’d filled the factory’s foyer this morning didn’t have any options. If Kyle closed the factory, they had nothing.

  “Kyle, please...”

  Before she could say more, the mayor burst into the conference room flanked by members of the town council and factory executives. His wife followed and began setting up for coffee accompanied by dessert plates piled high with pieces of the factory’s peppermint bark.

  “Mr. Ellison, if you’ll have a seat, we have something to show you,” the mayor said.

  Kyle scrubbed a hand down his face. “Mayor, I...”

  Nia reached out and laid a hand on Kyle’s forearm. “Just hear us out,” she said. “It’s all I ask.”

  Chapter 12

  She hadn’t left him any choice but to listen.

  Kyle seated himself at the conference table. He wanted to be angry with Nia for putting him in an awkward position and making what he had to do tougher, but part of him couldn’t help admire her efforts.

  It had been a smart move.

  Everywhere he turned this morning, he collided with people eager to tell him what working at Peppermint Lane meant to them. The place was more than just their job. It was home, and their coworkers were family.

  If only he knew what his father had intended to do with the place, he thought, then maybe he could help.

  But his hands were tied.

  Kyle glanced around the table at the town officials and factory executives. Their smiles didn’t disguise the strain of uncertainty etched into their faces.

  He waved off an offer of coffee from the mayor’s wife and tried to do the same with the plate of peppermint bark she shoved under his nose.

  “You can’t sit in the home of the world’s best peppermint bark and not enjoy a sample,” she insisted. “Taste it and try to deny it’s not the best candy you ever eaten.”

  Kyle obliged and took a piece. Every eye in the room was on him as he put it into his mouth.

  “Well?” The portly woman asked.

  “It’s very nice.”

  Truth be told, it didn’t come close to the rich, butter toffee Nia had shared with him. Now that was the world’s best candy. He unconsci
ously smacked his lips at the thought of it.

  Unfortunately, the people surrounding him mistook the gesture as a seal of approval on the peppermint bark.

  “Told you it was delicious,” the mayor said, standing. “Now we want to share an idea with you to help ensure Candy can keep producing this lip-smacking holiday confection for years to come.”

  Kyle pressed his lips together and looked on as the mayor kicked-off the presentation with a short film highlighting the town’s attributes. Afterward, the factory president ran down a barrage of statistics Kyle already knew. The upshot, this place had been bleeding money for years.

  The reason why wasn’t a mystery. They were still operating pretty much as they had since their inception nearly a century ago, and the competition was eating them alive.

  Again, Kyle searched his brain for a plausible explanation why his father had bothered with this place.

  Finally, it was Nia’s turn. Kyle suppressed the urge to smack his lips again as he took in the curve-skimming sweater that flared at her hips and skirt ending an inch above her knee.

  Her sweet face was all business. Kyle straightened in his chair as she hit a few keys on her laptop to start her PowerPoint presentation. The woman incited his lust, but she also commanded his respect.

  He knew Nia had worked hard. Kyle couldn’t explain it, but deep down he was rooting for her. He wanted her to wow him. He needed her presentation to be powerful enough to propel him to go over his uncle’s head to the Ellison board of directors to plead the Peppermint Lane Candy Factory’s case.

  Nia nodded and the mayor’s wife dimmed the lights.

  “Mr. Ellison,” she began.

  Kyle blinked. Her use of his surname caught him off guard. It sounded stiff and entirely too formal coming from her.

  Nia clicked the wireless pen in her hand. “I’d like to introduce you to Peppermint Village,” she said.

  An artist’s rendition of a renovated version of the factory, surrounded by quaint shops and a resort-style hotel filled the screen at the front of the room.

  “Peppermint Village would be a holiday destination for shopping as well as a relaxing getaway that will allow tourists to enjoy the Christmas season without getting bogged down in the hubbub,” she explained.