“It’s okay, really,” Brenda said, wanting to put the older woman’s mind at ease.
“No, I insist.” Mrs. Chen walked Brenda to the front door.
When she stepped outside, Brenda turned to the older woman. “I have a question to ask you.”
“Go right ahead.”
“Why do you live on the second floor? Why not take the first floor apartment?” She’d wondered this from the beginning, ever since the first time she’d seen Mrs. Chen trudge up the stairs.
The corners of her landlord’s mouth tilted up into a wistful, almost pained expression. “My husband and I lived in this apartment for thirty-five years.” She leaned against the door, as if the weight of the memories had tipped her off balance. “It wasn’t love at first sight. He was a small man and not my usual type. I wasn’t his, either.” She laughed softly, her features brightening so much her wrinkles seemed to vanish. “But our relationship evolved—against the wishes of our families. Back then, things were very much different for people who didn’t…look the same.” Her voice lowered, her eyes passing a message. “It was us against the world, and together we were unstoppable, could do anything. We bought this house, fixed it, and rented out the downstairs. We raised our daughter and our son here. We struggled, we laughed, we made a lot of memories. Yes, it would be easier for me to move downstairs, but then I’d have to say goodbye. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Huan yet.”
Tears sprang to Brenda’s eyes. How beautiful it must be to find a love like that. A love worth sacrificing for and worth whatever you’d have to give up.
“Thank you for sharing that story.” She reached for Mrs. Chen’s wrinkled hand, so fragile she felt the brittle bones beneath her delicate skin. “Whenever you need my help, promise me you’ll knock on my door. Don’t hesitate.”
Mrs. Chen squeezed Brenda’s fingers. “You’re such a sweetheart. You don’t need to be bothered by a crazy old woman.” She chuckled. “Now I have a question for you. Are you seeing anyone?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Oh no, don’t you dare.” Brenda waved her hands vigorously. “I get enough of everyone playing matchmaker.”
Since returning to Atlanta, her friends Jenna and Sophie, even an employee had tried to set her up. With her new job at the magazine, she simply hadn’t had time to get out and meet anyone. She aimed to remedy the situation soon now that she’d settled into the editor position.
“Hmm…How old are you? Thirty-one, thirty-two?”
“Good guess. I’m thirty-two, but—”
“I know a couple of good young men your age. Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll arrange for you to meet one or two of them.”
That was definitely Brenda’s cue to leave tout de suite before Mrs. Chen married her off to one of those ‘good young men.’
“I will keep that in mind, but I have to run so I’m not late for my meeting.”
She hurried down the stairs and away from her landlord’s good intentions.
****
If it weren’t for the fact that Sweet Treats Bakery made the best cannoli outside of his dearly departed nonna, Jay wouldn’t even bother coming to the popular bakery. Calling ahead and placing an order as he’d done in the past would have been wise, but the urge to come didn’t hit until he was nearby.
Running the largest advertising firm in the southeast sometimes meant long days, but seldom did he have to work as hard as he had over the past couple of months to convince a client to hire his firm. After a long, drawn out meeting this afternoon, the client—a flamboyant former rapper by the name of DJ Terror, intent on rebranding his image—finally signed with Omega Advertising. Jay felt like he had earned this treat.
He exited his Mercedes SUV, a sleek, bullet gray machine purchased a year ago. His devotion to the brand had started during childhood. His grandfather, the most influential male figure in his life after his parents divorced and his father moved to the States, only bought Mercedes.
“Good, dependable car,” he would say, and slap his hand on the roof to emphasize the point.
An ache filled Jay’s chest. To this day, he still missed his grandfather, who’d raised him to be a man of upstanding moral character. Nothing like the so-called father who’d given Jay five, or more, half-siblings scattered around the globe.
Jay trekked across the parking lot, and lo and behold spotted Brenda entering the bakery ahead of him. He hadn’t seen her since the funeral three weeks ago. The sight of her lifted his spirits and lightened his steps. Upon entering the store, crammed with customers getting their end-of-the-day fix, the scent of fresh baked breads, cakes, and pies hit his nose and made his mouth water.
Brenda stood in one of the three lines, staring up at the menu board.
He strolled up behind her, his olfactory sense immediately immersed in a combined cloud of perfume and her own unique fragrance. The combination was more enticing than the baked goods. He bent close to her ear. “I’m not surprised.”
Brenda jumped and swung around to face him, covering her heart with her hand. “You scared me.” She laughed nervously and then tilted her head at him, a soft smile on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?”
Damn, she looked great, but that wasn’t unusual. Her skin glowed and those big, expressive brown eyes sparkled with a teasing light. Was it any wonder his spirits lifted as soon as he saw her?
“You, signorina, have an uncanny ability for finding the best bakeries.”
She laughed, a husky sound filled with warmth and sensuality that sent shivers down his spine.
Calm down, Jacopo.
“I’m here to pick up snacks for a meeting I have later, but you’re one to talk. Let me guess.” She screwed up her face into a thoughtful frown and looked up at him from behind a veil of thick lashes. “The cannolis must be exceptional here.”
“Cannoli—no “s” at the end,” he corrected. “It’s already plural.”
“You mean I’ve been saying it wrong all these years?” Her eyes widened in mock distress.
“Afraid so,” he said with the appropriate amount of gravity in his voice. “And that completes today’s lesson in italiano.”
She giggled, a lighter sound this time that still generated tiny tremors on his skin.
“But you’re right, they do have really good cannoli here,” Jay confessed.
“Uh-huh, I knew it!” She wagged a finger at him. “I know your M.O., too, mister. You’re craving comfort food and came to where you knew you’d get it. You really need to learn self-control.”
She looked mighty pleased with herself that she’d called him out. Eyes bright, full lips curved up. He had brought that animated expression to her face.
“I don’t seem to have any self-control when it comes to certain things,” he said in a low voice.
The words had slipped out. In response, her smile dimmed with uncertainty for a nanosecond.
The line moved forward and they moved with it.
Jay scanned the menu board. Different colored chalk scrawled across the blackboard announced a fifty-percent off sale on focaccia bread. He’d buy a couple of loaves and place one in the freezer for later.
“Did you finally unpack?” he asked.
The day of Charlie’s funeral, Brenda had confessed that after a year, she still had unpacked boxes lying around.
“Finally. Charlie’s death made me think about all the things I’d left undone that needed to be completed. No more putting off until tomorrow what could be done today.”
He’d had similar thoughts. Charlie had postponed marrying his high school sweetheart for years, too focused on his job and the projects he’d worked on. Only when she’d threatened to finally leave him did he give in to the pressure of setting a date. They’d planned to have a civil ceremony at the courthouse, but all too soon he was gone.
Brenda turned halfway toward him. “How about you? How’s the house coming?”
“They estimate it’ll be completed by the fall.”
<
br /> Having lived close to the city for years, Jay had decided to build a five-bedroom home with a full basement in Alpharetta, close to good schools and right in the middle of suburban life. The move had been precipitated by the fact that his boys were moving from Bradenton, Florida to live with him in Atlanta next year. They’d be at the age when he felt they needed more of a male influence as they grew into young men. He couldn’t wait to play a more active role in their lives.
“My office is in Alpharetta,” Brenda said.
“Right off the parkway, right?”
She nodded. “I’m so happy for you. So it’ll be you and the boys in a bachelor pad, huh? Watch out, Atlanta.”
He chuckled. “It won’t be that bad.”
To be honest, he hadn’t thought the move would ever happen. When he’d first broached the topic to Jenna a few years ago, she’d expressed reservations. Eventually she’d come around to his way of thinking, but in typical fashion, she’d backpedaled when he’d walked her out to the car at the Italian restaurant. She’d claimed she couldn’t let her “babies” go. An argument had ensued, but Jay had been adamant the boys were coming to live with him. They were excited, he was excited. End of story.
“Once the house is completed, I promised they could pick their own bedroom colors and decorate any way they want—within reason, of course.”
“Of course. There always has to be a caveat when you make an offer to kids.”
“Always.” The line moved again and they shuffled forward. “So what meeting do you have this afternoon?”
“I’m on the board of the Fulton County Performing Arts & Community Center. We have a big fundraiser coming up in the fall, and there’s a board meeting tonight. Pray for me that I don’t strangle anyone.”
“I promise to say three Hail Marys.” He did the sign of the cross.
“Thank you,” Brenda said, with exaggerated gratitude. She swept hair higher on her forehead, and he had a vague recollection of filtering the soft strands through his fingers. “I’m tired of hearing excuses for why the other committee members haven’t done their part. I’ve done mine. Through my media contacts I’m able to get the word out, using bloggers and other channels, but my other task is to secure the celebrity appearances. Tyler Perry has already committed and even offered a five-figure donation. God bless him. The man is generous to a fault. The MC has a popular morning show, and I’m waiting to hear from an Academy Award winning actress—who shall remain nameless because I don’t want to jinx it.”
The line moved forward and they edged forward, too.
Jay thought for a moment. An idea formulated in his head. “You need anyone else? I signed a new client today and this fundraiser sounds like the kind of thing he’s expressed interest in doing to revamp his image.”
Her brow furrowed with tiny little creases. “Who did you have in mind?”
“Have you heard of DJ Terror?”
“The rapper? Of course.” He had her attention. “But I thought you only worked with businesses.”
“DJ Terror—or rather, Vince Combes—is a business,” Jay explained. “During his years as a rap artist he invested well and if he never wanted to work again now that he’s retired, he doesn’t have to. His empire includes stakes in real estate and restaurants, and he’s a silent partner in a number of other ventures. But he’s still young—only thirty-five—and wants to stay busy. He’s worked on his paintings—”
“Did you say paintings?”
The incredulous expression on her face made him laugh. “Yes. He’s painted abstracts for years but is only now willing to share his art with the world. He works in oils and plans to unveil his best pieces in a small exhibition this summer. He’ll do at least one performance painting at the venue, which means while he paints, music plays and influences the design of the final product. Interested?”
“Absolutely. It would be great for us to get someone so well known. Even better if he’d do a performance painting at the center.” Her eyes lit up with the possibilities. “You know, we could do a couple of features on him for the magazine, leading up to the event. It could help establish his new image. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea. I’ll talk to the head of my creative services department and get back to you.”
Free publicity was better than any ad Omega Advertising could purchase. Creative services would jump at the chance to do the features. The team just had to decide on the best strategy for incorporating them into the overall plan.
“Excellent.” She rubbed her hands together and turned back around. Knowing Brenda, her mind was probably spinning angles for the articles already.
His eyes settled on her exposed neck, and he had a sudden urge to touch her skin, to hear her softly inhale as he traced a hand down her spine. His gaze continued a downward slide over her shoulders and the silver cowl-neck blouse that hugged her body without being too revealing. Lower still, he took stock of the black, wide-legged pants and stopped. His body tensed, and he tore his eyes away from her hips and ass before the vulgar thoughts that had flashed through his mind took such control they manifested outwardly and he embarrassed himself in the line.
When he’d calmed down enough to speak again, he said, “You know how we were talking about getting together more often? You and Sophie should come to game night at my house. It’s a lot of fun. Adult fun.”
“Oh?” She sounded interested, but as she dug in her purse, he only saw her profile and couldn’t tell if she really was or not. “When’s the next one?”
“In a couple of weeks.”
She raised her eyes to his. “Do we have to bring anything?”
“Only if you want to, but I have plenty of food and beverages, so it’s not necessary.”
She pulled out her wallet while he waited for a response. What was going through that head of hers?
“So what do you think?” he pressed. “Do you think you’ll come?”
“I might be able to swing that,” she said over her shoulder.
“Next!” The cashier’s sharp cry broke into their conversation. No one else stood in front of Brenda, and they’d both been distracted enough to hold up the line.
She hurried forward and made her purchase. Afterward, she waited for him near the door, out of the flow of traffic. Once he had his box of cannoli, Jay joined her and they strolled out to the parking lot. As they walked, he gave her the details of game night, including the time and his address, since she’d never been to his house.
They ended their walk at her gold Jetta.
“So you’re definitely coming?” he asked.
“Yes, Jay, I’ll be there.” She rolled her eyes. “With bells on. Happy?”
“Definitely wear the bells.”
He winked at her and she gave him one of her Brenda grins—one that lit up her face and made him wish their situation was different. That there wasn’t the occasional awkwardness between them and he could, without hesitation or second thought, pull her into his arms and not feel her stiffen.
He waited until her car started before he walked away toward his vehicle. As she cruised by, she honked and waved.
Jay waved back and was at his car, staring at his smiling face reflected in the driver side window, when he realized he’d actually been smiling almost the entire time he talked to Brenda. Nothing unusual about that at all. Her presence always brightened his day.
****
Brenda had wanted to decline Jay’s invitation. For the most part she’d managed to steer clear of him since she moved back to Atlanta, but a visit to his house wouldn’t be unpleasant if Sophie was there, and she did want to meet new people. She needed to get out more. Most of the past six months had been spent working hard at The Entertainment Report, so most every new person she met was in the entertainment industry. She could slow down now, and game night sounded like fun.
She was at the light and turning out of the parking lot when she caught her reflection in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were bright and
she grinned like a fool, a complete one-eighty from her less than enthusiastic attitude about the board meeting tonight.
All because of Jay. He’d brightened her day.
Chapter Four
Sophie bailed on Brenda at the last minute. So last minute, in fact, Brenda was already en route to Jay’s house when her friend called.
“I’m really sorry, but Keith wants me to go to this concert with him, and I’d feel terrible if I don’t go and he spent all that money on a ticket.”
“It’s not your fault. He waited until the last minute to tell you.” After the person he really wanted to take had canceled, no doubt.
But Brenda kept that comment to herself. No point in wasting her breath on another anti-Keith tirade. Sophie never listened. Brenda sometimes wondered if Keith had cast a spell on her friend. Her judgment where he was concerned could be considered questionable at best.
Brenda parked on the street and took a deep breath. She exited the car, holding a box of miniature cupcakes. Instead of a swanky bachelor pad in the middle of the city, Jay lived in a four-bedroom, three bath craftsman in Grant Park, one of the oldest neighborhoods in the Atlanta area. This location made sense considering its proximity to the Omega Advertising offices in the city, and that the neighborhood was family-friendly—perfect for when his sons visited.
From the street, she saw people milling around inside, and music and conversation spilled from the open windows. After climbing the stairs from street level, Brenda walked across the lawn and up the front steps of the porch. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but it swung in and a woman with curly raven hair stood in the doorway. Her scarlet top and tan slacks made Brenda feel underdressed in plaid capri pants and a black cotton shirt.
“Hello and welcome,” the brunette said. Her voice was surprisingly loud and she spoke with flawless diction. “I’m Dr. Helen Stafford.” She presented her hand.
The formal introduction took Brenda by surprise, but she quickly recovered and extended her hand and a smile to the other woman. If she had a Ph.D., she might be inclined to tell everyone, too.
An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3) Page 3