Cappuccino Kisses

by Yahrah St. John

  Everett wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him in a hug. “I know, and I love you, too. But if I truly liked her, I wouldn’t care where she came from, only how good her heart is.”

  “You can’t be so naive, darling. You have to think about EJ with whoever you date, and whether she would be a good mother.”

  “EJ is never far from my mind,” he said, even though he had to admit he hadn’t been thinking of his son last night when he’d had Mariah backed up against the door of her apartment. “I will always put his interests and well-being above my own.”

  “Oh, I know you will. And you think this woman, this Mariah, could be a possibility?”

  “It’s too early to say, but something tells me the answer is yes.”

  * * *

  Just before closing time on Monday, Mariah wiped down the counters. It had been a rather slow day and not seeing Everett all weekend or today had only added to her disappointment. She knew it was silly, but she’d started to look forward to his daily visits, count on them. She knew it was wrong, especially when she intended to halt any ideas of a blossoming romance that might get into his head after her scandalous behavior Friday night.

  She’d had no intention of getting that close to him. All she could do was chalk it up to the romance of the evening. Everett had pulled out all the stops with the private dinner at the Space Needle, the champagne and the pianist. What woman wouldn’t get caught up in the moment? It didn’t help that he was nerve-sizzlingly attractive and that whenever he was around, her brain short-circuited and she lost herself.

  His kisses had rocked her to her core, making her weak at the knees and fisting handfuls of his suit jacket in an effort to keep from falling. The strong chin, chiseled cheekbones, sexy dark eyes and irresistible smile combined with a hard, muscled and toned body had made Mariah want to throw propriety to the wind and ask him inside her apartment. If she’d done that, she was sure that Everett would have given her one helluva mind-blowing climax. He’d almost made her orgasm just from a kiss.

  If she was honest, Richard had never made her feel that way. They’d been young kids in love and figuring out each other’s bodies. And yes, they’d grown together, eventually discovering what pleased each other. But none of their experiences had come close to what Everett had made her feel from his kisses and caresses. She could only imagine that she would probably faint from the passion and intensity of Everett full throttle. As intense as he was, she was glad he’d had the common sense to end things Friday night.

  Had he regretted his actions? Was that why he hadn’t visited the bakery since? Or were her kisses so abhorrent that it made him want to run in the opposite direction? She didn’t have much to compare him to, but she’d given him as much of herself as she was capable of under the circumstances.

  She wished she had someone to confide in. Most of her friends back in Chicago were married couples, and she didn’t think they would understand what it was like to be newly single. She hadn’t been back in Seattle long enough to make any new friends, and most of her crowd from high school had dispersed to other parts of the country.

  And as far as her family went, she most certainly couldn’t talk to her brothers about her love life, even though Jack always wanted to be in her business. Her mother had never been much into girl talk. But there was always Belinda in Chicago.

  Mariah shook her head. Why was she second-guessing herself, anyway? Hadn’t she said that she and Everett should keep things professional? The next time she saw him, she would act as if the date hadn’t happened.

  Just as she was about to close the bakery for the day, Everett showed up with preliminary sketches from his interior designer, along with the name of the general contractor he wanted to use to carve out the café space.

  “Wait, wait,” Mariah said. “Take a breath.”

  He’d walked in full of fire and zest for the project and sat down at a table with the sketches. There hadn’t been his usual hello and flirtatious greeting; he’d gotten right down to business. Had he forgotten her kisses that quickly?

  She surely hadn’t, and it didn’t help that he looked handsome as usual. He was wearing trousers and a button-down shirt instead of his usual suit.

  He grinned abashedly. “I’m sorry—I’m so excited about the project that I couldn’t resist taking the first step and coming up with a layout. I hope you don’t mind?”

  Mariah shook her head. “Of course not. You know more about the coffee business and what would be required.” She looked over the drawings. “How did you get a copy of our layout?”

  He shrugged. “Your permit is part of the public record and I have a few friends in the department.”

  Mariah bristled. It must be nice to have friends in high places. “It would also have been nice if you’d asked.”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’d like to look this over with your brothers and get back to me. As I told you, I want to be involved in all facets of this project.”

  She couldn’t forget. “And you still want me to run lead?”

  He stared at her piercingly. “Yes, I still want you.”

  Mariah swallowed audibly. There it was again—that innuendo in his words. Add the way he was looking at her, as if she was the cherry on top of a hot fudge sundae, and it told her that perhaps he wasn’t all about business, either, and that there was still a part of him that desired her. If she was honest, it soothed her female ego after his no-show all weekend and his right-to-business tactics now. “That’s good to hear.”

  His full lips curved into a smile. “Great, because I’d like to bring some contractors by tomorrow so we can start getting this priced out.”

  “You sure don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “Why should I? I’m certain you’re as eager as I am to get this project off the ground, especially for a start-up business.”

  “Well, yes, but we’re not in dire straits. We’ve only been open a week.” Mariah bristled again. She didn’t appreciate Everett acting as if they were a lost cause and he was doing them a favor. Lillian’s of Seattle would make it with him or without him. She would see to it, because she wouldn’t let it fail.

  Heck, just this morning she’d been working on a new creation. She wasn’t sure of the name yet, but once she’d perfected it, Mariah just knew it would sell like hotcakes.

  “I’m sorry,” Everett said. “I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise. I’m here to help.”

  “Of course, and I’m sorry if I’m a little sensitive on the topic.” She offered him a weak smile.

  “Did something happen?” he inquired.

  “No, not exactly, but my brothers and I have been summoned home for a family powwow dinner tonight. I’m sure it’ll be just another attempt by our parents to convince us we made a poor decision by opening the bakery.”

  “Don’t let their negativity get you down,” Everett said. “Use it to fuel your passion and your determination to succeed. Show them they made the mistake by not supporting your dreams.”

  Mariah stared at him incredulously. She couldn’t believe how impassioned his speech was, and he barely knew her.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I didn’t get where I am without ambition and the drive to succeed.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you did.” And she’d had it herself once, before her marriage had gone to hell in a handbasket.

  “So, it’s all right if I bring some contractors by in the morning?”

  Mariah nodded. “Absolutely. I’m sure this layout will work just fine, but I’ll run it past my brothers.”

  Everett rose to his feet, towering over her. “You do that. In the meantime, I have to get going.” He reached for his briefcase and started toward the door.

  “Oh, okay.” Mariah hated to admit she was enjoying his company and didn’t want to see him go.r />
  He must have heard something in her voice, because he said, “How about a kiss for the road?”

  Chapter 8

  “Baby girl.” Her father planted a kiss on her cheek as Mariah entered the foyer of her childhood home later that evening. Although Everett hadn’t gotten the kiss for the road, she had been happy to see him, and now it was family time.

  “It’s good to see you, Daddy.” Mariah gave him a quick squeeze around his shoulders. She’d always been a daddy’s girl and treasured the special bond that existed between the two of them. “You’re looking well.”

  Even at fifty-nine, her father was a handsome man with his smooth, honey-toned skin. From his dark, close-cropped hair to his bushy eyebrows and ever present mustache, Graham Drayson was debonair. He was a suit-and-tie kind of guy, but tonight he wore trousers and a pullover sweater.

  “C’mon, everyone’s in the back.”

  “Including Mom?”

  “Oh, don’t be like that.” He knew that at times Mariah’s relationship with her mother was like oil and water.

  But her father had loved her mother from the moment he’d met her, and it had been that way ever since. When Mariah had told him her marriage to Richard was over, he’d had a hard time understanding and accepting it. For her father, marriage was a life-long commitment. She respected that about him, along with the fact that he was a self-made man who’d done well for himself as a savvy real estate agent, consequently being able to give her and her brothers an upper-middle-class background.

  Just look at what he’d done with their home. The stunning Queen Anne Victorian overlooked the water in one of Seattle’s most exclusive neighborhoods. It had stained glass windows, a turret and sprawling landscaped grounds that her mother kept meticulously manicured. Nadia Drayson had initially hated the house, telling her father he was a fool for purchasing the ramshackle place, but Graham had seen the potential and called it “a diamond in the rough,” then had lovingly restored it himself. It may have taken years, but her mother had finally come to adore the house, and it was her father’s pride and joy.

  “I’ll try,” Mariah finally said, as he led her by the arm into the family room, where Chase, Jackson and her mother were already seated around the large, sixty-inch flat-screen television. Her brothers were drinking beers, while her mom held a glass of red wine.

  “Hey, sis.” Jackson rose to greet her. “What’s that you got there in your arms?”

  Mariah glanced down. She’d forgotten that she’d brought the blueprints Everett had dropped off earlier, so she could get Chase and Jack’s opinion. “These are the drawings I mentioned to you earlier.”

  Chase must have been eavesdropping because he said, “Oh, yeah, let me see.” He was jumping off the couch when her mother sidestepped him and came toward Mariah with her arms outstretched.

  Mariah suffered through the obligatory kisses on either cheek. “Mom, how are you?”

  Nadia pulled away and studied Mariah from head to toe. “I’m well, but I’m not sure I can say the same for you. What are you wearing? What’s happened to you since you’ve been back in Seattle? When you were in Chicago you were always so elegantly dressed.”

  And here it goes, Mariah thought. The criticism, the put-downs. Could she ever do anything right in this woman’s eyes?

  Probably not. At fifty-seven years old, her mother was extremely polished and an impeccable dresser. She wouldn’t be caught dead in Mariah’s outfit of a simple shirt dress, which she’d belted at the waist and teamed with riding boots. Her mother had straight black hair and refused to allow herself to go gray, by monthly salon visits. Nadia Drayson lived the easy life, having long since stopped helping her husband build his real estate business, and shifting her focus to charity work instead.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but now that I’m a baker I don’t see the point in wearing sheath dresses and Louboutin shoes.”

  Her mother gasped. “Oh, the horror. You can’t speak ill of Louboutins.”

  Mariah couldn’t suppress the gurgle of laughter that escaped her lips, and apparently neither could her brothers, who were standing nearby and probably waiting for World War III to erupt between them, which usually happened when they were within six feet of each other. But tonight was different. Mariah wasn’t going to let her mother ruffle her feathers.

  She held up the blueprints and glanced at her brothers. “I thought we could look these over before dinner. That’s if it’s not ready yet?” She stared at her mother questioningly.

  Nadia waved her hand, “Oh, that’s fine, but don’t take too long. I like my duck moist.”

  Mariah chuckled as she, Chase and Jackson walked down the hall to their father’s study.

  “So, let’s see them,” Chase said, pulling the prints from under her arm.

  He unrolled the large drawings and spread them out over the table adjacent to her father’s massive oak desk. She’d always loved that desk and sitting on his lap as she’d watch him work.

  Chase studied the plans for several long minutes, going around the table to view them from all angles. “These are great.”

  “I know. That’s what I thought” Mariah understood the basics about reading the drawings because she’d been involved in the bakery’s design. Everett’s designer had come up with an efficient use of the small space, while not taking away anything from the bakery.

  “I agree,” Jackson said, looking over her shoulder, “The plans even show some shop drawings of the displays that would house the Myers Coffee Roasters product. He thought of everything.”

  “He did say he wanted to be involved with every facet of the project,” Mariah reminded them.

  Chase looked up from the drawings and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back into place on his nose. “How do you feel about that? I mean, you are the reason he’s doing all this.”

  “Am not.” Mariah knew it was a childish response as soon as she uttered it, but she couldn’t help herself sometimes. Being around her older brothers made her revert to being a kid.

  Jackson stared at her with those light brown eyes of his as if he couldn’t believe she was actually lying to their faces.

  “It may have been part of the reason,” Mariah amended, “that Everett decided to partner with us, but it’s good business. He wouldn’t be doing this otherwise. I highly doubt he’s doing this to lose money.”

  “Perhaps, but he could be doing it to get a piece of—”

  Mariah pointed her finger at him. “Don’t you dare, Jackson Drayson!” she warned.

  Jackson flushed and had the decency to look embarrassed at what he’d been about to say to his younger sister. “Sorry, kid,” He pulled her into the crook of his arm. “You know I wouldn’t let some guy play you. I’ve got your back.”

  Mariah stared up at him. “I know.” But she couldn’t resist jabbing him in the ribs for the barb.

  “Ouch!” Jackson feigned being hurt even though Mariah knew her punch had hit the brick wall that was his abdomen. Jackson believed in staying fit and toned. It was why the women flocked to him—his body and that good-looking face.

  “So, now that we’re all on board,” Chase said, getting back down to business, “you’ll let Everett know we approve, and get some pricing on this? We’ll need three competitive bids, as we’ll be responsible for half the costs.”

  “Why should we pay? When he came to us?” Jackson asked.

  “Because we want a stake in the profit,” Chase responded. “Mariah, do you want to discuss a percentage with Myers or shall I? I’ll only ask for what’s fair.”

  “No need. I already have a number in mind.”

  Chase stepped backward. “So, it’s like that?”

  Mariah smirked. “Don’t underestimate me.”

  * * *

  Mariah wished dinner could have gone as smoothly as he
r business conversation with her brothers had. They’d made it through salad and her mother’s famous pretzel bread and were on the entrée course of orange duck when Nadia Drayson decided she wanted to revisit why her children had insisted on opening a bakery against her and their father’s wishes.

  Mariah suspected it was her mother’s wishes and her dad had just gone along. As the old saying went, “happy wife, happy life.” Mariah couldn’t fault him for that, but wasn’t about to listen to this same old love song again. What was done was done and their mom was just going to have to accept their decision.

  “I don’t understand why you did it,” Nadia said. “Didn’t we give you all the very best in life? The very best education? The world was your oyster. But instead you choose to open up a bakery and do manual labor?” She shook her head in despair. “I just don’t understand.”

  “And you don’t have to,” Mariah snapped.

  “Easy now,” Graham admonished.

  Mariah glanced up and saw her father’s reproachful look. He didn’t appreciate the way she’d spoken to her mother.

  She forced herself to say, “I’m sorry, Mom, but you have to understand. This is a great opportunity for us to build something on our own. Aunt Lillian has given us the tools with her great recipes, and with some of our new ones, I know we’ll do great.”

  “But it’s a fickle business,” her mother pressed. “Right now everyone is into health fads and gluten-free—it’s poor timing. You should return to what you went to school for, advertising. It was your passion until...until—”

  Everyone around the table stopped breathing at what they knew was coming.

  “Until what?” Mariah asked through clenched teeth.

  Her mother glanced up and faced her head-on. “Until your infertility. You were perfectly happy with your career and then you got obsessed with baby making at the exclusion of everything.”

  “So you’re saying that the divorce was all my fault?”

  “Nadia,” her father interjected, “you need to—”

  But her mother interrupted him. “Well, yes,” she answered unapologetically before taking a sip of wine. “Haven’t I always told you to put your man first, like I do your father?” She glanced across the table at her adoring husband. “Perhaps if you’d focused more on your marriage, you might still be together today.”