Delicious Complication

by Sabrina Sol

  Then he walked out of the closet and straight into Daisy. “Oh, sorry,” he said, dropping his shoes. She jumped backward, as if trying to avoid any additional contact. “I just came in to grab a few things. I didn’t get a chance to move my stuff into the other room yet.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. She was covered in a knee-length silk robe and he had a pretty good idea there was nothing underneath. Her damp hair confirmed that she’d just gotten out of the shower.

  “It’s okay,” she told him. “After all, it’s your bedroom. You don’t need to explain being in here.”

  “No, I want to give you your privacy. I’ll make sure I tell you ahead of time if I need to come in here. Or,” he said with a grin, when she tried to tug down the hem of her robe while keeping the other arm across her chest, “I’ll at least wait until you’re fully dressed.”

  “Well, it looks like you got what you need. So…good night then.” She lifted her chin, still tugging on her hem.

  He draped the suits over the edge of a chair and leaned against the doorframe. Goddamn she had nice legs. “Actually, I also needed to talk to you about a couple of things.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Right now? Can’t it wait until the morning?”

  “Unfortunately, it can’t. I’m leaving right now for the restaurant so I probably won’t see you until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Fine. Let me grab my pajamas and you can talk to me through the bathroom door while I change.”

  She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she grabbed a black tank top and a pair of bright pink pants that had been lying on top of the bed then escaped inside the bathroom. He followed and stood in front of the closed door, his hands in his pockets.

  “So tell me what you need to tell me,” said her slightly muffled voice.

  He heard the whisper of fabric falling to the floor and swallowed. Hard. “My mom and Alex want to take you to lunch tomorrow at the restaurant.”

  The rustle of fabric stopped abruptly. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Alex called a few minutes ago. Is that okay?”

  “Um. I guess. Do you think she’s going to ask me more questions?”

  “Probably. She was on her best behavior tonight so I know she still has a lot she wants to know about you…about us.”

  “Great,” she groaned.

  He heard the telltale sound of an elastic waistband snapping into place. He bit his lip to keep in a moan. What he wouldn’t give to peel those pink pants right back down her legs.

  That was a dangerous train of thought. He cleared his throat and tried to focus. “She already asked me why you aren’t wearing an engagement ring.”

  There was a long pause before she responded, then a quick rustling of fabric. Her tank top, maybe? “Shit. I didn’t even think of that.”

  He nodded and sat down on the bed. “Me either. Who knew we’d need props?”

  “So what did you tell her?”

  “I told her it was at the jeweler getting resized.”

  “Ooh, that’s a good one.”

  “But that got me thinking. I can buy you a ring if you want one.”

  “That’s not necessary. This is temporary, remember? Buying a ring would just be a waste of your money.”

  The door opened and a fully-dressed Daisy stood in the doorway, backlit by the bathroom light, brushing her wet hair. His mouth dropped open. The sight was a thousand times more erotic than what he’d imagined. “Is that what you usually wear to bed?”

  “What?” She looked down at herself. “Yoga pants? Yes, I wear them to bed, to the grocery store, to the post office. You might as well get used to them. You’ve got a thing for suits and I’ve got a thing for yoga pants.”

  He was quickly realizing that he had a thing for yoga pants, too. “They look, uh, comfortable.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that? Were you expecting me to come out in some Victoria’s Secret lingerie?” She crossed the room and set a bottle of lotion on the nightstand next to him. “Sorry, but I don’t dress to impress when I’m going to bed. And anyways, it’s not like I was expecting to put on a show.”

  That sounded intriguing. “A show, huh? Well, now I have to ask. What kind of show would this be exactly? Would there be singing? Maybe a little dancing?”

  She was trying very hard to look annoyed but the smirk on her face didn’t convince him. She knew she had walked right into that, and it wouldn’t have been normal if he hadn’t taken advantage. It was ridiculous how much he enjoyed teasing her.

  “Okay, you can stop now,” she said and tapped him on his arm with her hairbrush.

  “But you haven’t given me any details. There are so many things I want to know. Like, for example, what lucky bastard has been on the receiving end of this show? That guy from the wedding?”

  “Luis? Please. I could’ve come to bed wearing a Playboy costume, complete with bunny ears, and he wouldn’t have noticed. Just one of the many reasons why we broke up.”

  The thought of Daisy dressing like a Playboy bunny for another man rammed into him like a truck, and his enjoyment subsided. An uneasiness replaced it, twisting his stomach as if he’d eaten a bad oyster. Since they’d eaten Alex’s perfectly cooked chicken, he couldn’t blame the queasy feeling on dinner.

  You’re jealous.

  It was a ridiculous idea, given that Brandon hadn’t felt jealousy over a girl since the ninth grade. Even more ridiculous that he’d be jealous over Daisy and some imaginary man.

  As he watched her apply lotion over her arms and neck, he realized he needed to make an addendum to their original agreement. And it had nothing to do with him being jealous or how delicious her ass looked in those pants and everything to do with keeping up appearances so his mamá wouldn’t get suspicious.

  “So, uh, yeah, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “What’s that?” she asked and sat down on the bed next him.

  Coconut. She smelled like coconut. His mouth watered. He shook his head and tried to focus. “During our arrangement, I think it would be best if we didn’t see other people. You know, it’s risky and I don’t want that asshole Felipe or anyone else showing up with more pictures, especially now that my mom—”

  “I’m fine with that,” she said with a shrug.

  He’d expected more of a challenge, or an argument about him being too controlling. “You are?”

  “Of course. I’m not dating anyone right now anyway.”

  Good. “Good.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “So I’m assuming you’re going to be able to stick to this rule as well?”

  “Contrary to what you’ve read in those magazines of yours, I am perfectly capable of being with only one woman. Even if I’m not sleeping with her,” he added for both of their benefits. “So we’re agreed?”

  “We’re agreed.”

  Brandon stood up and headed toward the door. He opened it, but hesitated.

  “Was there something else you needed to talk about?” she asked.

  “Just so you know…if I was ever lucky enough to see that show you were talking about earlier, you wouldn’t need the Playboy getup. Seeing your ass in those pants again would be enough for me.”

  He closed the door, happy with the stunned expression on her face.

  It was turning into one of the longest nights of his life. Usually time flew by because the restaurant was so busy, and Brandon loved being in the middle of all the craziness. Whether it was checking in on Alex and her sous chefs in the kitchen or making the rounds out in the dining room, Brandon barely had time to eat, let alone check his watch. But tonight he wasn’t feeling it, and instead had retreated into his office to go through paperwork. That only made things worse, though, since he couldn’t concentrate on one single damn thing.

  What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?

  It’s because you know she’s sleeping in your bed, wearing those pants.

  His dick grew hard at the idea of going home early
and crawling into bed with Daisy and convincing her to let him take a look at the perfect, rounded ass she’d been hiding from him all this time. To be fair, he knew she had a great body. It was just that she usually didn’t wear things so tight or form fitting. But it wasn’t just the pants. There was just something hot about seeing her so at home in his home.

  Jesus, dude. It’s only the first day. How are you going to make it through the next two weeks?

  He was saved from answering himself by a knock on his door. Brandon looked up in time to see Christian Santos peek his head inside.

  “Hola, mi amigo. The food was amazing tonight. I already told Alexa, but I wanted to tell you as well.”

  Brandon stayed sitting to allow his erection to calm down, but motioned for his friend to come inside. “That’s what I like to hear. How about a drink?”

  “Sounds good. Everyone else is still finishing dessert, so I have some time.”

  He took out a bottle of Rémy Martin Louis XIII Cognac and two snifter glasses from his bottom desk drawer. He’d just picked up the high-end liquor on his way to the restaurant. This way he’d always have something nearby to toast on special occasions (like the fake end of his bachelorhood) and for visits from special customers. Christian definitely fell into that category, and he was glad to share the first drink with his friend.

  “I’m surprised you’re back here in your office tonight. Usually you’re out there trying to control everything,” Christian teased as Brandon poured two fingers worth into each snifter.

  “Believe me, I’d rather be out there than in here, but I was gone most of today so I needed to catch up on some paperwork.”

  They each held up their glass and gently tapped them against each other before taking a sniff of the refined and complex spirit. It boasted a delicate flowery scent mixed with hints of fig, prune, vanilla, and honey.

  “So am I going to see you Saturday?” his friend asked after they’d both taken their first sip.

  “Of course,” he answered, still savoring the cognac’s velvety and rich flavors. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Mira says you’re bringing your new fiancée. I had no idea you were even dating someone. Now you’re engaged?”

  Brandon hadn’t planned on talking to Christian about Daisy until the engagement party. The question caught him off guard.

  His friend pressed for more information. “So, who is this woman anyway?”

  “Her name is Daisy Robles. She’s an event planner who I work with sometimes. And, yeah, we’re getting married.”

  “No shit. For real?”

  “For real,” he answered without looking at him.

  “Hijole. I can’t believe it. Brandon Montoya is settling down.”

  He couldn’t blame his friend for being so shocked. He never hid the fact that he preferred the single life—not even from the women he dated. He always made it clear that his interest was short-term and nothing they could do or say would change it. There were perhaps two or three who had tried, convincing themselves that they had a real relationship with him. But then he’d explain to them all over again—his restaurants would always be his mistresses and would always come first.

  When he’d left his mamá in Puerto Rico, he’d promised himself he would be a success. Anything short of that would mean he’d left his family for nothing.

  But building a successful empire required working fifteen hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. Although he had a fantastic manager and head chef back in New York, he still liked to drop in for a few days and check on things. And if the Miami project ever got off the ground then that meant he’d be splitting his time between all three cities. Girlfriends and relationships didn’t fit in to that kind of schedule. At least not the ones he’d had.

  So he resigned himself to a lifestyle that required no strings and no commitments, all the way down to his leased car and rented condo.

  The temporary situation with Daisy merely put a pause on that lifestyle for a couple of weeks. Once it was over, it was back to the single and untangled life for him.

  But Christian didn’t need to know that.

  “What can I say? I finally met the woman for me,” he continued, hoping to convince his friend.

  “Then I’m happy for you. I really am. I don’t even remember my life before Mira came into it. She’s changed everything for me. Everything. It’s hard to explain, but it sounds like you know exactly what I mean.”

  He nodded and took another sip. “I do. I really do.”

  That part was true. Daisy had indeed changed some things in his life.

  Starting with his new appreciation of yoga pants.

  Chapter Eight

  She smelled L.A. Cuchara’s menu before even walking through the door. The enticing aroma of garlic and roasted chilies hit her as soon as she exited the car and she took a deep breath. The bundle of nerves ping-ponging inside her gut since she woke up that morning had squelched her appetite. She’d barely slept thanks to obsessing over every possible question Brandon’s mother could ask her today during their lunch.

  She’d texted Brandon hourly trying to come up with plausible answers to her list of Lorena’s potential questions. He’d finally ordered her to go to bed around four in the morning.

  Now she’d arrived at the restaurant, running on three hours of sleep and three cups of coffee. Thank God Alexa had stopped by and offered to take Lorena shopping before their lunch. They should already be inside the restaurant, waiting for her to arrive.

  Her stomach grumbled as she inhaled a passing waft of garlic and butter. Feasting on L.A. Cuchara’s lunch menu would be worth any interrogation by Brandon’s mother.

  “Fine, you win,” she muttered to her angry stomach and then walked into the restaurant.

  A pair of breasts met her at the hostess stand. They belonged to the restaurant’s manager, Pilar Solis. She knew the woman well. Too well.

  “Oh, hello, Daisy,” she droned and arched one of her pencil-drawn eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were meeting Brandon here today. Were you? He’s not here right now and I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

  “Actually, I’m not here for Brandon. I’m here for—”

  “Daisy!” Alexa called from a few feet away. As she walked up to them, Daisy smiled at her pretend sister-in-law-to-be. Only a few minutes younger than Brandon, there were certain facial features that made it obvious they were related. But the two could not be more different. Perhaps that was why the restaurant was so successful. While Brandon was a workaholic who got off on marketing reports and financial spreadsheets, Alexa was known for partying with the diners after cooking them a fantastic meal. He drank wine and wore designer suits, Alexa drank beer and shopped for vintage pinup-style dresses. In other words, Alexa was Daisy’s kind of people.

  “Alexa,” Pilar whined, “you didn’t tell me that Daisy would be joining your lunch party. But then I should’ve known that she’d be here with you and your mother. How very sweet.” The sarcasm dripped from her Botoxed lips like venom. Then she looked at Daisy. “I apologize but it’s still a little strange to think of you as Brandon’s fiancée.” Was it her imagination or did Pilar’s face stiffen when she said the word “fiancée”? Even her perfectly applied makeup could not hide her irritation. She definitely had to text Amara later and let her know that she’d been right all along. Pilar was hot for Brandon. And she didn’t just have a resting bitchface. She was a bitch. Period.

  “That’s okay, Pilar,” she said as sweetly as she could muster. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it eventually.”

  “I’m sure I will. It’s just that I had no idea you two were even dating. Like no idea, whatsoever. Honestly, I thought he was seeing someone else. In fact, just a few weeks ago he had dinner with this blonde and they looked, um, cozy.”

  If she’d really been Brandon’s fiancée, Pilar’s words would’ve wounded her. Instead, it only antagonized her. “Well, it all happened kind of fast. But then when you k
now, you know, right? Anyway, we both wanted to keep our personal relationship separate from our business one.” And just because she wanted to wipe that ugly smirk off her face once and for all, Daisy added: “Only those closest to us knew what was going on.”

  The smirk was obliterated. “I see. Well, you certainly hid it very well. Congrats. Enjoy your lunch, you two.” Pilar turned her back to them and went back to studying what must’ve been very important paperwork, leaving Alexa to guide her to the back of the restaurant, into a private room where Brandon’s mom was already seated at a table. They were the only three people in the room. There’d be no sneaking out now. Daisy was trapped.

  “Lord, help me,” she muttered under her breath. But not low enough because as they walked toward their table Alexa asked, “What did you say?”

  Daisy thought of a quick save. “I said, ‘Lord I’m hungry.’ And since you’re the head chef here, I’m going to need some recommendations.”

  “About the food or my mother?”

  “Both?”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do great. Plus, I just broke up with another guy so that should take up most of the lunch conversation.”

  Alexa winked at her, and for the first time that day, Daisy let her shoulders relax.

  “Oh, good! You’re here,” Lorena said as they took their seats at the table. She reached over and patted Daisy’s hand. It was an unexpected gesture that made her tense at first. But the woman’s genuine happiness at seeing her eventually made her smile.

  “So how was shopping?” she asked her.

  Lorena nodded as she unfolded the black linen napkin in front of her. “It was nice. But everything here is so expensive.”

  “I told you we could’ve hit some thrift shops, but you insisted we go to the mall instead,” Alexa said before tearing into a bread roll.

  “Aye Alexa, I told you already I don’t like to waste my money on old things.”

  “They’re not old, Mami. They’re vintage.”