“Tell me what happened at the meeting,” Lisa prompted gently, as she took a seat.
Hunter narrated what had occurred at the meeting with the council. He scowled, remembering the condescending attitude regarding his reputation and how they thought he would be unfit to hold the position of Assembly Man. He huffed in disdain at the suggestion that he settle down, change his lifestyle, and get married.
“Those old turds wouldn’t be sitting in their air conditioned offices if it weren’t for my campaign contributions,’ he sneered.
"So you'd rather act like a rebellious twelve-year-old and not go, to prove what exactly?"
“They can’t tell me what to do with my fucking life.”
“Oh, honey,” Lisa smirked, “go ahead and tell them to shit in their adult diapers. That’s your prerogative. But… weren’t you the one who said running for the senate was your dream? I still have to see the day you let anyone stand in your way. So if that means having to lick their asses, for now, do it."
Hunter repressed a chuckle.
“I guess you’re right. I have to find a suitable date that would pass the discriminating taste of those dodos.”
"That would be a problem then. Your taste runs from the Avante Garde to the extremely tacky," Lisa retorted, keeping a straight face.
Hunter laughed. “If you were forty years younger, I’d take you as my date. Hell, I’d even marry you.”
“Humph. I wouldn’t. You hold no surprises for me. I washed your butt when you were a baby.” Lisa replied impudently, making him laugh again.
She stood up to leave and added, “I need to know her name.”
“Who?” Hunter replied, looking edgy.
"Your date, silly. I have to put her name down when I do the RSVP," Lisa replied, wondering why he was acting so jumpy all of a sudden.
He nodded, relieved when she finally left the office. It didn’t take much for the old gal to see right through him. He could never lie to her. But he wasn’t ready to reveal that his mind was still set on someone that he had just met.
Noelle Mancini.
He left the café this morning with reluctance. He practically forced himself to leave, realizing that he was taking too much of her time. She needed to work and make a living. The feeling nagged at him till he reached the office.
There was something about her that strummed a chord in his sophisticated mind. Sure, she was gorgeous. The sheen of the chestnut hair that fell down in waves around her shoulder, the bronzed skin that reminded him of caramelized champagne truffles, the green eyes that shone when she laughed or blazed when she thought he was spying on her – he couldn’t shrug her image out of his head.
But Noelle seemed unaware of her beauty. She had a delicious ass, he admitted. The way she undulated her hips while dancing, innocently unaware that she was being watched. The rise and fall of her chest when she turned into an angry tigress evoked curiosity and sexual attraction. What would she be like, naked and passionate, in his arms?
He couldn’t get beyond how unaffected she was to the Blackwell name. Most women would fawn and simper. Noelle was more interested in his ideas for change. That was totally refreshing. The other women that he dated would automatically lose interest, preferring to search for clues if he was interested in seeing them again.
What was it that his dad used to say? ‘You can’t go wrong with a woman who can cook.’
She doted on her son and still managed to run a business. She had ambition. She was the ideal American girl and very genuine.
Instinctively, he felt that something was troubling her. He wondered what was on her mind. Meeting Noelle today was serendipity, he was sure of it! With her place being the only café open at that hour, just when he was on the lookout for a place to eat in a side of town that he rarely went to. If this morning’s event was one of his many business deals, he would have gone in for the kill, based on a sixth sense that there was something wrong, and then come out successfully with another business acquisition.
Thinking about her now made him feel restless and needy. He reached for his cell phone.
Idiot. She didn’t give you her number. He castigated himself.
Although her eyes did light up when he mentioned wanting to see her again. I wonder if it’s too soon to show up for lunch. He thumbed it down. It had barely been an hour since he left her. That and his exaggerated sense of manliness didn’t approve. Women did the chasing. Never him.
A movement by the door alerted him to Lisa’s presence. She was the only person in the entire building who entered without announcing her presence. Perks of the relationship, she often teased when he mentioned it to her.
Hunter pretended to be engrossed with his Mac. Lisa placed a check made out to the Governor’s Ball. He signed it, not bothering to glance at the figure.
“Don’t forget the name. I need it for the RSVP,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,” he replied. Knowing Lisa, she’d remind him again before the day was over.
Unexpectedly, a wild idea formed in his mind: he would ask Noelle to come as his date.
Chapter Four
Noelle Mancini sprinted down the two blocks that led to Café Eats Well. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She expected to see the red, blue and silver flashing-lights of a police cruiser parked right in front of her café.
“Mommy, wait up,” Nikko complained, trying to keep in step with his mom.
Noelle couldn’t understand the whim that made her decide to leave Miranda inside the café last night. Just before closing shop, she took a peek and noted her still sleeping form. The pallor on the girl's cheeks had transformed to a normal hue, making her utter a grateful prayer.
Her worst fear was to have to report a dead girl inside her property. She expected to see Miranda awake when she checked up on her. But watching her snoring lightly and in deep slumber, Noelle was overwhelmed with compassion. She didn’t want to wake her up and be the harbinger of the bad news that she needed to leave the premises.
Moving closer to the girl on the bed, Noelle realized that Miranda looked younger than when she first saw her slumped on the sidewalk. The pain that lined her face was gone. The tight black hair had come undone and was spread out against the pillow. Miranda was lying on her side in a fetal position, indicative of a rough and shy side to her character, which went against the soft and sensitive profile of the face in slumber.
Noelle made an impulsive decision. She scribbled a note and pinned it against Miranda’s pillow. Satisfied that she was doing the right thing, she closed shop and headed home. Her back hurt from fatigue. It had been a day full of surprises indeed.
Noelle knew the reason. She tried to squash the emotion and failed miserably. She really was on a high note after the unexpected first visitor for the day, Hunter Blackwell.
She fought the urge to stare into space and moon over his memory. It was one of life’s gifts, a straight toss in her direction when it could have been just a curve ball.
She shivered at the memory of his touch when he removed the flour smudge from her chin. The way he tossed his head backward, displaying a sparkling set of white teeth in laughter when she made a funny remark. The way his eyes held her captive as he listened intently while she talked about her passion for cooking. Those reminiscences were etched clearly in her psyche and were an intoxicating recipe that could have turned her day into a disaster…or a win.
She was on cloud nine, and that was probably why her normally suspicious nature was on full confidence mode with regards to allowing Miranda to stay the night. She was actually humming a tuneless song when she turned off the lights and headed home.
Noelle’s eyes flew open just before the sun was up in the horizon. She had a bad dream. In her dream, the café was trashed and broken into and all her hard-earned equipment gone. She broke out into a cold sweat, hardly believing what a stupid decision she had made the night before to leave a complete stranger inside her beloved store.
She hurried into her son’s be
droom, intent on bringing him along. Their neighbor who took care of him when she was working wouldn’t be coming until hours from now, and she couldn’t leave him all alone.
“Hey sleepyhead,” she crooned as she caressed Nikko’s hair. “Want to come with me to the café? We can have breakfast at McDonald’s.”
***
“I’m sorry, honey.” Noelle apologized guiltily, slowing down her pace so Nikko could keep up.
Her eyes frantically searched the sidewalk fronting the café. No police cruiser, no activity to suggest something went wrong during the night. But the lights inside the café were burning brightly.
Through the glass window, she noticed movement inside. Instead of using her own keys as she normally did, panic made her rap loudly on the door.
Miranda opened it instantly. She was still dressed in Noelle’s clothes from the night before. She held a mop in one hand and there was a bucket of soapy water near the doorway.
“Good Morning,” she greeted Noelle shyly.
"You're feeling better?" Noelle strived to speak normally. The last thing she wanted was to offend the girl with her suspicion. Everything seemed normal. In fact, the whole place was gleaming.
“You’ve been cleaning?” Noelle noted in wonder. “Miranda, you didn’t have to do that. You are still sick.” It was then that she observed the wafting smell of freshly baked bread. “And baking too?” Noelle added in awe.
“I woke up feeling so much better,” Miranda confessed, “I used beeswax on the tables, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Miranda, that's just so thoughtful of you,” Noelle replied, besieged with shame for thinking the worst about the girl.
“It was the least that I could do for your kindness yesterday,” Miranda murmured.
Nikko, who was silently watching the exchange, suddenly came forward. “Hi, I’m Nikko. What’s your name?”
Miranda’s eyes lit up as she stooped down and took the extended hand. “My name’s Miranda and I think you’ll love what I have inside the oven.”
Nikko shadowed Miranda, who retrieved a character cake pan from the stovetop. Noelle had a bunch of those pans that she used when she would cater to children’s parties. Miranda turned it over gently onto a plate. The bread was the shape of a boy lugging a schoolbag.
“That’s cool,” Nikko announced, taking the plate from her.
“There’s grated cheese and hotdog stuffed inside. Be careful though, because it’s hot.” Miranda replied.
Noelle watched the interaction between the two and castigated herself for doubting the girl. Miranda appeared to have a natural empathy with children. The proof was Nikko digging happily into the bread and forgetting about the promised breakfast at McDonald's.
Noelle joined her at the counter where Miranda was busy rubbing on the finishing touches of beeswax. Having done that, she gathered the mop and the bucket and then headed out back. When she reappeared, Noelle had set up breakfast for both of them.
Miranda joined her, shyness still visible on her face.
“I didn’t know that you could bake,” Noelle said to break the ice.
“I used to run a small bakery back home in Nigeria. When I arrived here ten months ago with my mother, we stayed with her boyfriend. I saw a poster that said a French chef was taking in students who wanted to learn to bake. I applied and got accepted. I never finished the course, but I learned a lot from Chef Luigi.”
“Chef Luigi? I interned with him, too,” Noelle confessed with excitement.
There were two things she now knew. Miranda was Nigerian, which explained the accent. Her Ls and Hs were missing. So were her Fs, while the Rs rolled on her tongue. And she studied under Chef Luigi, one of Noelle’s icons in the food industry. In her eyes, he was a demi-god.
Noelle felt an instant kinship with the other girl. But she needed to know how she ended up just outside her doorstep at the cafe.
“How’s the cramping? Is it still bothering you?” Noelle asked cautiously, not wanting to create the impression she was prying.
“I’ll be fine; I just haven’t slept in weeks. I ran away from the home where I was staying with my mom. I couldn't anymore… He is an evil man." Her eyes welled with tears.
Noelle’s heart constricted. With a sinking suspicion in her mind, she verbalized a question and secretly prayed that she was mistaken, for Miranda’s sake.
“Did your mom’s boyfriend…” Noelle couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, leaving it hanging in the air for Miranda to answer or not.
Miranda slowly nodded her head, giving in to a flood of tears. “Yes, he raped me. I ran away to protect my mom and not get her into trouble. That was his baby I aborted.” Miranda confessed simply.
Noelle’s heart broke for her. “Do you have a place to stay? You need time to recuperate before going out into the streets again.”
Miranda shook her head and replied, “I heard they give temporary shelter at the Y. I’ll go there after I leave from here.”
For the second time in twenty-four hours, Noelle acted on impulse again – it was just one of those light bulb moments. Miranda was good with her hands and the café smelled clean and looked well polished from all her efforts just that morning. All that, plus the fact that Miranda could bake too: it made sense. Noelle would also get more free time for her son.
“Or… you can stay here and help me with the café. We can fix the room at the back so it becomes your temporary quarters. When you’re back on your feet, you can look for a more permanent place to stay. I can pay you…”
Miranda looked thunderstruck. Noelle trailed off from her pitch of a job offer.
“You’re serious?” Miranda asked and broke into a wide grin.
Noelle nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear. She didn’t expect to be enfolded in a giant hug that squeezed the air out of her lungs. Nikko saw them hugging and laughing and talking at the same time, like turkeys at the zoo. He decided to join the party. The three were soon entangled in a group hug as hearty celebratory laughter filled the air.
And just like that, a bond that could not be explained was formed.
Chapter Five
Noelle could only describe her current situation as happy. No, she thought. Happy felt too ordinary a word. Blissful popped into her mind. It still wasn’t enough, so she settled for euphoric instead.
Within days of hiring Miranda, she instantly felt her load lessen. Miranda was so efficient that she didn’t have to worry about running out of supplies in the café. Noelle could accommodate more clients and she didn’t need to close early. Miranda even took over the grocery shopping, leaving Noelle more quality time to spend with her son.
After both girls had the routine down pat, Miranda transformed from a shy, scared girl to someone who exchanged easy banter with the customers. Noelle thanked her lucky stars for Miranda was truly like manna from heaven.
They exchanged ideas about spices, herbs, and condiments. Miranda taught her about exotic spices like Achii, Ogbona and lyere. Noelle discovered, to her delight, that Miranda also had secret recipes just like her, but she had no qualms about sharing them. Noelle, to her chagrin, didn’t feel the same. She held on to her secret ingredients.
An easy friendship developed as they shared stories about their lives. Noelle realized that even if they came from different parts of the world, there was something more in common between them than she previously realized.
But admittedly, Noelle’s euphoric feelings were not just because Miranda. Hunter Blackwell’s presence filled her heart to overflowing.
The day after she met him, Noelle struggled to be on the side of prudence and chose to think that she would never see him again. It was the familiar battle between her Mr. Brain and Mrs. Heart.
Or perhaps, it was her lack of self-confidence. Men like Hunter Blackwell never strayed into her trajectory. They were like shooting stars that blazed in the horizon and then disappeared.
Her brain insisted… Don’t be silly. You’ll never see
him again. Hunter’s declaration that he wanted to see you again was just a sophisticated way of making a graceful exit. Men do that all the time. He didn’t even ask for your number, the cynical brain of hers rationalized.
Her heart, though, was optimistic and more positive and kept her hope alive. He’ll be back, Noelle. You’ll see.
So, when Noelle recognized the familiar figure of Hunter Blackwell approaching the café entrance, she almost dropped a tray of salad that she was holding. She gave an audible gasp that immediately attracted Miranda’s attention.
Noelle handed the tray to Miranda and went rushing towards the back as if her butt was on fire. Mrs. Heart was doing a lively version of the flamenco inside her chest.
The Penthouse Secrets: A NYC Billionaire Romance Trilogy Boxed Set Page 3
