They haven’t seen each other in years, for one reason or another. But Brione missed her too. “I got you. When we're done, they’re going to beg you to take that position. And I’ll be there at 9:45 ready to rock n’ roll.”
“Awesome. I’ll text you if anything changes. I gotta go, we’re about to land.” Eliana said.
“Be safe.” The microwave beeped.
“I will. Love you Peanut Butter.” Eliana giggled.
“Love you too Honey.” They disconnected, Brione stood staring at the phone for a minute considering their long friendship.
Eliana was her roommate in college, their running nicknames came when all they could afford was Ramen noodles, and peanut butter and jelly, except Eliana, liked hers with honey or syrup.
Music was Eliana’s passion like organizing events was Brione’s. However, she knew her love of centerpieces and tulle could not lead to her desired destination.
Brione gathered her hot food from the microwave and walked to the dining room, she turned into an office. She stared at the stack of textbooks. She entered law school for two reasons: money and time. The family connections between the Bradleys and her parents guaranteed her seat. But her high GPA landed her a full ride.
She cleared a space for her bowl, tonight she’d study and tomorrow she’d order pizza and work on her portfolio. She lowered into the chair in front of her laptop, placing her food aside. She opened the oversized law book and turned to the cases she needed to read and analyze for class tomorrow.
She leaned over the keyboard and forked a chunk of lasagna, she cradled her hand beneath it to keep the sauce from dripping onto her expensive textbooks. She popped it into her mouth and did a chair dance as the ricotta cheese and Italian sausage made her taste buds happy, momentarily overlooking that it almost burnt her tongue. She pushed the bowl back to let it cool and read the first legal case when her phone rang again. The little face on the screen made her heart race with joy.
“Hello, Sweet Pea.” Her voice trembled, she took a deep breath.
“Hi!” Brione could envision her chubby cheeks, full eye lashes, and radiant smile.
“I think this is the best surprise I’ve had all day.” Her giggle warmed Brione’s heart. “How was school today?”
Kayla talked about crayons and finger painting. Her new best friend and a boy pulling her pigtails. All the things Brione had to experience by phone and not in person. And as soon as the call started it ended, sending exaggerated kisses through the phone to the tune of Kayla’s sweet laughter with promises of talking with her again on Saturday.
Life wasn’t fair. That was too tall of an order.
Brione used the fork to cut into the cooler lasagna. She had stopped crying about it and questioning why long ago, instead she dealt with it, taking blow by blow and somehow managing to bounce back. But tonight she wanted to sit in it. From the sting of the scheduled phone calls to Stewart consistently dangling their freedom like cheese enticing a rat, reminding herself that she had a plan. This ache in her chest was only temporary.
One day she and Kayla would live under the same roof. Holding on to this goal kept her in one piece.
Kayla motivated Brione to work hard and she vowed not to repeat the same mistake twice. Men like the dreamy caramel sex god Eliana drooled over were bad news. Stewart was one of them. He walked into a room and every woman—married, single, it didn’t matter—wanted him. She’d thought herself lucky.
Brione snickered at her foolish youth. None of them cared about what she wanted in life. Her goals. Her desires. To the Bradleys, her parents, Stewart, she was their pawn, their minion, their tool. So they thought.
She couldn’t afford to crack. She ate the rest of her dinner, deciding to study first then get her portfolio together for her meeting with Eliana.
To get Kayla back, she needed money and landing the job with Eliana to organize Marques’ event could be the break she’d prayed for.
Chapter 2
Walking into Coffee Confessions had a ring of a homecoming for Marques Carter. He had spent many days hanging around waiting on Bruce to finish a shift before they went to the studio. Houston saved him and got his life back on course. Now that he was back, he hoped lightning would strike again for them.
He pulled the baseball cap lower to disguise himself. The release of his first official video last week gave him more than his usual double takes. In Atlanta, he couldn’t go anywhere without people recognizing him, here offered a reprieve. But he didn’t want to take any chances, welcoming the way people bumped right past him. It added another reason he loved being back in Houston.
Marques arrived early to meet with Bruce. He scanned the room, spotting a few empty tables and made his way to the line. He lifted his head to read the menu when he felt a soft bump behind him. He turned around and had to glance down at a petite woman.
“Excuse me.” She held up a hand then reached out to stabilize a mug rocking back and forth on the shelf. “I was trying to miss the stroller and then the display and…” Her voice stalled as she finally looked up at him. Her lips parted in surprise. “Huh, sorry.”
He chuckled. “I think I’ll live.”
She nodded without speaking as their gazes held. Marques let his eyes survey her light brown skin paired with jet black hair. It was curled softly brushing the sides of her face in a chic bob. Her heart-shaped face and doe eyes held curiosity as her full lashes brushed her high cheekbones with each exaggerated blink behind black frames. But when he zeroed in on her full lips coated with a hint of gloss, her tongue darted out and a groan reached his ears. He didn’t know if it came from him or her.
“Andrew Carter.” Using his legal name seemed appropriate as he extended a hand ready to see if her skin was as soft as it appeared.
“Brione Allen.” Her smooth husky tone reminded him of a midnight radio jockey. The type of voice that held intrigue, mystery, and allure.
She accepted his hand and lightning passed from her touch through his body. Damn. Her eyes flashed to meet his as his heart rate tripled. He studied her thoughtfully, appreciating the heat lingering in the depths of her brown eyes.
“Welcome to Coffee Confessions, give in to your guilty pleasure. How can I be of service?” The barista behind the counter asked and Marques was at a loss for words. He still held her delicate hand in his thinking Miss Brione Allen was a guilty pleasure he’d gladly give in to. But judging by the penetrating stare she gave him as she snatched her hand away from his, he doubted she was on the menu.
“I’m sorry, I need a moment to review the menu. Brione after you.” He extended his hand towards the counter and she stepped forward. She appeared as surprised as he was. The chemistry between them was as real as the nose on his face.
“Huh, sure.” She stepped to the counter and tossed her purse on her shoulder like a barrier between them. No, baby girl, that purse ain’t gonna save you.
She started to order and the sounds of the room faded into oblivion as Marques scanned the length of her body, the curve of her backside, and…
“And for you sir?” The barista wiggled his eyebrows. Heat rose to Marques’ face, caught. But her hips were too tempting to ignore in pants that left no curve to the imagination.
“Our order is not tog—”
“Make it two of what she’s having.” He passed his credit card and turned back to Brione.
“That’s not necessary.”
“You’re welcome,” he teased, her expression much too severe for him.
Her eyes softened, “Thank you.”
Brione stepped to the side and waited as Marques collected his receipt. They stood in heated silence both snagging discreet glances at the other waiting for their coffee. He had no clue what she ordered, thankfully he wasn’t allergic to anything.
His senses were ablaze with her nearness. The closest comparison would be the moment he completed a new song. It gave the dueling emotions of exhilaration and exhaustion simultaneously.
“Are you
off to work today?” He noticed the button up blouse and dress slacks.
“No, I’m meeting a friend. And you?”
“Business.” She scanned his body in a sweeping motion. He wore a baseball cap with jeans and shirt. His goal was to blend in with the good people of Houston. He wished now that he’d given it more thought. Her mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “What you don’t approve of my casual attire?”
“Oh no. I think it must be nice.”
He searched her eyes and wished he could read her mind. The barista called his name for the order. Marques passed a cup to her and grabbed his own. The place was filling up quickly. He snagged a table and pulled out a chair for her.
“Join me while you wait.” She hesitated. “Please.” Brione slowly lowered to the chair. The floral scent of her perfume couldn’t compete with the aroma of the coffee beans but it was a soft statement of her presence in the busy cafe.
Marques sat across from her finding it hard to contain the odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. He took a drink of the hot coffee to distract himself. The taste of caramel and whipped cream warmed his mouth. “This is delicious. What is it?”
“A custom drink. It’s my favorite.” She lifted the cup to her mouth and took a sip too. Remnants of her gloss left on the white lid.
“I’ll have to get this again.” He grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of the sleeve. “So Brione tell me, are you from Houston?”
She sat her cup on the table, pulling closer. Their knees brushed, her eyes widened. “No.”
He waited for her to continue, she crossed her hands over the table. “Are you always this talkative?”
Her husky laughter rippled through the air. “No, it takes me a minute to warm up to people.”
He nodded. Brione dropped her hands to her lap, “What about you? Are you from here?”
“No, I’m from Georgia.”
“You said you’re here on business. What type of business are you in?”
“I’m in a family business. I’m taking a little time off before we enter a busy season.” It was obvious she didn’t recognize him. It made him relax, he didn’t feel "on."
“Do you travel often?” She asked.
“Not as often as I’d like.”
“So you enjoy traveling?”
He nodded, “I do. It is a love of mine, I acquired it as a child. I traveled a lot with my parents.” He took a drink of his coffee. He joined his father on many tours over the years. “The food, architecture, music, museums, I love all of it.”
“Where all have you visited?” The warmth of her smile echoed in her voice.
He crossed his arms over his chest and extended his legs. “I visited, at last count, 40 or so of the great states of America. I’ve hit the tourist spots. Australia, Canada, South Africa, Rome, London, Egypt, I love it there too. Dubai, New Zealand, India, China, Morocco, Italy, Bali. There are more but you put me on the spot.”
“Tell me about your favorite place.” She leaned over the table and rested her chin in her hand. Her eyes bright and inquisitive.
“Uh…” her smile made it hard to think straight, he searched his mind, “I can’t pick just one. My most recent trip was to Bora Bora.”
“That place is on my wish list.” A smile danced on her lips, heat coursed through his veins. Get a grip!
“Put a star by it. It is a place you’ll never forget. The warmth of the water. Its vibrant turquoise color. There’s something magical and healing about the island.”
Her expression stilled and grew serious.
“Add this one to your wish list too.” He wanted to see her smile again. “Torres del Paine National Park.”
The spark returned. “Where is that?”
Marques leaned forward enjoying the light in her eyes. “It’s in Chile. There’s more sheep than people but the valleys are the most vibrant green and the sky the bluest blue you’ll ever see. There is a small window when the weather is appropriate but it is worth it.” He winked and something told him she mentally noted every word.
He wondered what she was thinking as she dropped her head, brushing her hair behind her ears. Her phone buzzed against the table and Brione glanced down at the screen.
“That’s my friend.” She held up her phone and finished her coffee. “We have to reschedule.”
She stood from the table and leaned over to toss the empty cup in the trash.
“Would you like another?”
“No, I have studying to do.”
“Studying?” He hoped to prolong her departure.
“I’m a law student.” The glimmer in her eyes dulled.
“If I remember correctly there are three of them here.”
“You are absolutely correct.” She placed her purse on her shoulder and picked up a black portfolio. He missed that earlier.
“Would you like to grab lunch or something?”
“I really need to go.” She shook her head and glanced at her phone. “Thank you for the coffee and the conversation.” An easy smiled played at the corners of her mouth.
“No, thank you for this wonderful concoction.” He held up the cup shaking it.
“You’re welcome. Have a nice day.” She turned to leave and he reached for her arm.
“Take my number. I’m in town for a couple weeks. I really would like to see you again.”
“I don’t have time. I—”
“Take it…just in case. Pass me your phone and I’ll enter it.”
She searched his eyes for so long he thought she’d say no again.
“Okay.” She hesitantly passed her unlocked phone, holding the top with the tip of her fingers, as if trying to avoid his touch.
He entered his personal cellphone number and placed the phone in her open palm. “I’ll talk with you soon.”
Chapter 3
Brione sat to study for finals, she had two weeks left before summer break. But his voice, his smile barraged her. “Study Bri!”
Thoughts of coffee with Andrew had her head in the clouds. The way his head fell back when he laughed. The twinkle in his eyes when he teased her. It was a chasm in time that passed too fast, she wanted more.
Closing her eyes she estimated his height was close to six feet, the outlines of his shoulders strained against the fabric of his shirt. He stood before her with his hands shoved in his pockets and a killer smile wide with perfect white teeth. His classically handsome features made him beautiful for a man.
People passed their table slowing to gawk at him, not once did he look away or acknowledge their presence. She wondered what his hair looked like beneath the cap but figured it really didn’t matter. The man could be bald and she was sure she’d find him absolutely breathtaking—star quality.
Brione shook her head trying to rattle the images of him from her memories. But it proved impossible.
She tried reading the case at least ten times with no luck. But his soft encouragement, add this one to your wish list, rendered it impossible. Adding him to her list sound better. Forget it.
She opened her laptop and clicked on an internet browser. She typed in, Torres del Paine National Park and pressed enter. The results populated, her inner child didn’t know where to start. She squealed stomping her feet beneath the table to release the energy. Pictures, she’d start there.
Brione clicked on “Images." The pictures before her eyes made her lean into the monitor. There were mountains, valleys, glaciers, snow, a winter heaven. What had he done during his visit? Did he hike? Was he alone? Was it as cold as it appeared?
She grabbed her phone and went back to his contact. And she noticed the note, Call me and let's have dinner sometime. She had stared at it for most of her non-effective study time.
She could send a text.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. No. She shook her head, and then what? He’d text her back and want to talk on the phone. She put the phone back on the table. Music. That would help.
She stood and turned on the wireless speaker,
stopping by the kitchen for some water. Back at the coffee table, she sat in front of her textbook. She untwisted the top off the plastic bottle and took a cool drink. She scanned her phone for some music, pressed play and turned back to the case.
Brione read through several immigration cases for class. Her doorbell rang and she glanced at the clock. She wasn’t expecting anyone, she never had guests except... She stood up and walked to the door and glanced through the peephole. Her heart dropped to her feet. What is he doing here?
Stewart leaned into the doorbell. Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
“I know you’re there. Open up and stop staring at me through the peephole.”
Brione jerked back, placing her back against the door. She cracked her knuckles and exhaled a shaky breath. Her palms sweaty, she looked down at her t-shirt and leggings. Her clothes didn’t matter. But she felt more in control in a suit. Less like the young woman that fell for his smile and honey-laced words only to get stung by a wasp.
“You can do this Bri,” she whispered running her wet hands down her pants. She clutched one hand in the other to still her shaking limbs. “This is your space. You are in control.”
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
“I’m not leaving.” He stated.
She placed a hand on the handle and unlocked the bolt. She peeked through the opening created by the chain. “What do you want?”
“I promise this is not the way you want to handle this situation.” He leveled his deadly stare.
“I’m studying.”
“I guess Kayla will call you next week then. Give you time to study.” He stepped back never breaking eye contact with her. She unlatched the chain, stepping back as he strolled in like he owned the place.
Brione closed the door. Stewart was like the boogeyman. People refute its existence until it pops up under your bed.
He sat on the couch and leaned back. “Are you always this rude to your guests?” He stretched his arms across the cushions, obviously comfortable. “Can I get some water, sweet tea, a sandwich? Damn.” He laughed at his own joke.
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