by Jamie Pope
His attraction to her was real. It was intense.
He couldn’t get her off his mind all last night. He was that attracted to her and it was powerful, but it was stupid. Maybe he had been too cautious lately. Maybe he had gone too long without sex, without the touch of an attractive woman. He went out with some beautiful, financially independent, incredibly intelligent women, but none of them made his blood pump. None of them inspired vivid fantasies.
Amber had. After just one kiss. Hot and heavy relationships usually burned out fast and ended badly. He didn’t want to risk that. He had fallen asleep determined to put her out of his mind.
He woke up today hoping to have forgotten about that kiss, about wanting her, but all day at Lillian’s he’d unconsciously kept looking for her, hoping to get a glimpse of her every time he left his office, hoping to hear her voice, but he didn’t, because she hadn’t worked today.
It was probably a good thing. He needed his space from the beautiful woman, whose smile he couldn’t take his eyes away from and whose words had him wanting to hear more from her.
“Chase!” Jackson’s voice permeated his fog.
“Yes?”
“What did you want to eat?” He had his phone out probably scrolling through the listings on his restaurant delivery app. “Chinese? Italian? Burgers? I’m voting for the Spanish place on Lake Street. They deliver and I’m in the mood for paella.”
“That’s fine. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” Jackson sat up and looked at him. “Are you okay? You never give in that easily. We usually have a debate ending up in a compromise, if I don’t give in.”
“I like paella. No argument.”
“Uh-huh.” Jackson nodded slowly. “Mariah was right. You must be getting sick.”
“Me being agreeable means I must be sick? What if I just happen to agree with you? Spanish food sounds good.”
“I think so. You’ll let me order whatever I want off the menu and you’ll eat it?”
“You can order every dish they serve as long as you pay for it. Oh, and use a coaster. My coffee table is too nice to be messed up because your glass is sweating all over it.”
“That’s more like the Chase I know.” He slid a coaster beneath his glass. “I was wondering when you were going to notice that. If you got your furniture from the store like everybody else you wouldn’t care so much about your precious table. But no, you’ve got to get a turn-of-the-century, reclaimed-wood table with an accent.”
“What?”
“This is foreign, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It went with my furniture and I like nice things. I work hard to make money so I can afford nice things. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, but that’s where we differ. Money is to be made and lost. Gambles with huge risks make huge gains.”
“You do things your way and I’ll do things mine, and we’ll see where we both end up.” Jackson lived his life so differently than Chase. He dated everyone he wanted. He flirted wildly, not giving a damn about the consequences or how things might end. But things were rarely messy for his younger brother. Women loved him. Hell, everyone loved him. He was friends with everyone—exes, even competitors. No one could seem to stay mad at him. Chase often wished he was more like him. More easygoing. But he couldn’t be. He just wasn’t wired that way.
His landline rang and he got up from his chair to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Chase? It’s Amber.”
“Amber.” He was surprised to hear her voice. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Very fine actually.”
Chase had to bite his tongue to keep from saying yes, you are.
“I’m calling to tell you that I spoke to my mother and she would love to take some classes and would be grateful for any assistance you can offer.”
“Why do you sound so formal, Amber? I thought we were old friends by now.”
“Old friends?” He could hear the smile in her voice and wished he was with her to see it. “Who you calling old?”
“That’s better. I’ll call my friend and set up the scholarship process. Have your mother look for some classes that she wants to take and let me know.”
“I will.” She was quiet for a moment. “Thank you, Chase. This means so much to both of us.”
“Don’t mention it. Are you working tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yes. You will.”
They disconnected, Chase feeling a little bit of a rush after talking to her.
“Amber?” Jackson walked over to him. “You were talking to that fine barista?”
Chase was busted but he didn’t feel the need to lie to his brother. “I was.”
Jackson had a slight knowing grin on his face. “I’m sure she’s not contacting you at home because she’s calling in sick or changing her shift.”
“No. She wasn’t.”
“And since you aren’t kicking me out right now, I’m assuming she wasn’t calling to tell you that she was coming over?”
“No. She’s not coming over.” He was slightly disappointed as he said those words. He could just imagine the way she would look standing at his front door, asking him if she could stay the night. And again he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He barely knew her and yet he wanted her with a growing hunger.
“Will you stop being so damn evasive. I want you to get with this girl. Maybe she’ll loosen your tight ass up.”
“It’s not what you think. You know how Kenya Ashworth offers scholarships for adults going back to school? I’m setting one up for Amber’s mother.”
“You mean the scholarships that you donate a large sum of money to every year?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re paying for her mom to go back to school. You must have it bad for this girl. Why don’t you just take her to a fancy restaurant and buy her something shiny. It might be easier.”
“I’m not paying for her to go back to school. The scholarship fund is, and I believe in education. Not everyone grew up with the opportunities that we’ve had. It’s important for me to give back.”
“Yeah, giving back to a woman with a behind like that makes it a little easier, doesn’t it?”
Chase shook his head as he grinned at his brother. He couldn’t help but agree with the man.
* * *
Amber’s heart was beating a little harder than she would have liked after she hung up the phone.
Chase.
His deep, smooth voice. The way it rolled over her. Amber was never one who liked to be read to, but she had the strange desire for Chase to read to her so she could close her eyes and get lost in his deep voice. She could imagine what it would feel like to lie in bed with him, her head on his hard chest, his warmth surrounding her along with his intoxicating smell while he read to her.
She got all tingly just thinking about it. She shouldn’t be getting all tingly. She shouldn’t be thinking about him like that at all, but she couldn’t help it.
“Was that him, sweetheart?”
Her mother came out of her kitchen with tea and toasted peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches for both of them, bringing back memories of her childhood. Her mother was always serving them, bringing them something, making sure they were all okay. Even now that they were all adults. Amber couldn’t remember a time when she had seen her mother do something for herself. “Yes, Mama. It was. You’re all set up. You just have to pick your classes.”
“I’m so excited!” She set down the tray and hugged Amber. “I haven’t been in school in over thirty years. I hope I can keep up.”
“You will, Mama.” They sat down at the kitchen table and Amber studied her mother, a former activist turned stay-at-home mot
her of four. She was still beautiful well into her late fifties with shockingly white hair and pretty coffee-colored skin. “You’re one of the smartest women I know. I’m sure you’ll be the best student in there.”
“You’re such a good girl to do this for me, Amber. I had no idea you knew I wanted to draw again.”
“I saw you pick up a book about becoming an illustrator while we were in the bookstore. I always wondered why you had given up your dream.”
“It was a different time. When I had babies women stayed home. They raised their families. They spent their lives making sure their children’s happiness came first.”
“I feel guilty that you had to sacrifice your happiness for ours.”
“Why? I don’t regret a moment of it. All four of my children have made it through college. All of them are happy and healthy and doing well. As a mother I feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment, and tonight I feel especially proud that my daughter was thoughtful enough to make it possible for me to go back to school.”
“I didn’t do much. My friend...” She shook her head. “I guess he’s more of my boss... He’s the one who is making this happen.”
“You said friend first, Amber. Tell me about him.”
“Chase?” She thought for a moment, trying to figure out the right words to describe him. “He’s Mariah’s brother. You remember Mariah, don’t you?”
“Yes, she’s a lovely girl. Chase must be a very handsome boy.”
Amber nodded, but she didn’t think there was anything boyish about the man. “Chase is very good-looking but doesn’t seem to realize how handsome he is. He’s a little on the conservative side. He was in corporate finance for a long time before he and his siblings decided to open Lillian’s of Seattle.”
“What else about him?”
“He loves his family. He’s thoughtful. He’s intelligent. He makes me smile,” she said thinking about him. “I don’t know him that well. Those are just my impressions of him.”
“I might have believed that if you hadn’t added in that ‘makes you smile’ part. Your father made me smile. I would spend hours after I left him grinning ear to ear like a total ninny, but it felt good to smile like that. Being with him was just so easy. Is that what it’s like with Chase?”
It was easy to be with Chase. Easy to get caught up in his conversation. Easy to lose her head just looking at him. “He’s good man.”
“You should invite him over for dinner. Make him something special. I think your shrimp and cheesy grits is probably one of the best things I have ever tasted.”
“You want to have a little dinner party to thank him?”
“No, sweetheart. I think my presence there might interfere with your love connection.”
“Mama!”
“What? Your friend might be on the conservative side, but I’m not. How do you think you got here?” She touched Amber’s hand. “Listen. You haven’t dated anyone since Steven, who frankly made you cry more than he made you smile and who I never liked anyway.”
“You didn’t like him?” she asked, shocked. “You never told me.”
“No. I didn’t want to cause any tension between us. And I didn’t want to drive you any closer to him. The man was a self-centered, pompous ass. His pictures weren’t changing the world, and if he wanted to make a statement he could have helped out his community. He could have volunteered at the food pantry. He could have shot a couple of weddings to help out when finances were tight, but all he did was complain and put you down about your dreams. I don’t think this Chase fellow is like that. Didn’t you mention something about him asking you to create a couple of pieces for him?”
“Yes, but I think he’s just being nice. Most people think my jewelry design is a cute little hobby.”
“But not him. If he thinks your old mom should go back to school, then I think he’ll be on board with whatever you choose to do.”
“You don’t even know him. Hell, I barely know him. Why are you fighting for a relationship that doesn’t even exist?”
“You could get to know him. You’ve shut down every man who is even mildly interested in you. What happened to my joyful baby girl who always led with her heart?”
“That baby girl got her heart stepped on by a man who told her it was her job to unconditionally support him because that’s what good women do for their men. I really believed that for a while. It took me a long time to realize he was stealing big parts of me.”
“When did you realize that?”
“Remember that piece I was working on for Janna’s wedding?”
“That lovely flowered hair comb with the blue stones? Your sister adores that piece. Her something new and something blue. She still wears it when she goes someplace special.”
“Yes. It’s an intricate piece that took me a long time. I thought Steven would understand why it was so important to me, but two days before the wedding he wanted me to drop what I was doing and go to his friend’s opening at an art gallery. When I told him I couldn’t, he got upset with me. He told me I could work on my little hobby whenever I wanted, but his friend only had one opening. I tried to explain how important it was to me, but he told me that the only things that should be important to me were the things that were important to him. And it was if he threw cold water on me and I woke up. I kicked him out then.”
“You should have smacked him.”
Amber smiled at her normally nonviolent mother’s aggressive statement. “I wanted to. Looking back on that time, I realize that he was jealous. My pieces had gotten picked up in five boutiques then and he hadn’t gotten a job in a month. He was bitter about having to teach a photography class at a local community college while I was making money doing what I loved. I was understanding at first, but it got to the point where his negativity was sucking the life out of me.”
“You’re too wonderful to be stuck with a man who doesn’t appreciate you.”
“I figured that out a little too late.”
“But you shouldn’t punish Chase for it.”
“He hasn’t asked me out. And I work for him and you know I don’t like mixing business with pleasure.”
“Fine. Don’t date him if you’re uncomfortable with it, but it has been nearly two years since Steven and I’m concerned that you’re afraid of risking your heart again.”
Amber didn’t say anything, but her mother was right. She was afraid of risking her heart again.
* * *
“I want to welcome you all here,” Mariah said, looking at Amber, Jackson and Chase once they were all gathered in Chase’s office the next afternoon.
Amber thought Mariah looked very serious and very beautiful for someone who spent the majority of her day baking. Today she wore a formfitting gray pencil skirt, a silk cream top and sky-high gray suede heels. Not the image that came to mind when one thought of a baker, but even though Mariah’s looks might’ve been deceiving, no one should’ve been fooled. The girl knew how to throw down in the kitchen. The Draysons had used a lot of the recipes from the Chicago bakery here, but Mariah would not settle for being a copy of the original. She wanted to provide baked goods that no one else was selling anywhere else.
“Why are you welcoming us here? To my office,” Chase said from his seat on the couch next to Amber.
Amber had never been in Chase’s office before, never seen inside of it because the door was mostly kept closed. It was small but very nicely decorated with a small couch and a desk that looked as if it was made of mahogany. There was a large painting on the back wall that at first looked like an ordinary seascape, but on closer inspection Amber realized that she recognized the painting.
“Is that a Palmer Hayden?” she blurted out.
Chase sat up and looked her in the eye. She was sandwiched between him and Jackson, but she barely noticed Jackson’s body next
to hers; it was Chase’s that she felt. His firm thigh pressed against hers, his bare forearm, brushing against her arm. His smell. His clean, expensive, intoxicating smell infecting her. “You know Palmer Hayden?”
“He was a Harlem Renaissance–era painter most famous for his John Henry series. Of course I know about Palmer Hayden. I’m surprised you do.”
“Chase loves all that fancy, bougie crap. You should see his apartment. It’s like a museum in there,” Jackson said.
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle bougie, Mr. Food Snob whose favorite foods are things most people can’t pronounce?” Chase countered.
“Don’t start, you two,” Mariah said with a sigh. “I wanted you here so we could have a taste test.”
“You called us in here for a taste test?” Jackson sucked his teeth. “I thought it was something important you wanted to talk about, like finances or the Bite of Seattle.”
“Mariah wouldn’t call a meeting about finances. I would call one, and we should talk about Bite of Seattle. We really have to nail down our plan. I have been researching the most successful exhibits from previous years.”
“Of course you have,” Jackson said. “I’m surprised we don’t have a ten-page report in our hands yet.”
“It’s coming,” Chase answered.
“What is this Bite of Seattle thing anyway?” Amber asked. “I’ve heard about it for years, but I’ve never known what goes on there.”
“Bite of Seattle is a three-day food festival that takes place every July,” Chase explained, looking at her again. Her mind almost wandered away from his words because she was so caught up in how good he looked today in his lightweight baby blue sweater, which looked beautiful against his rich brown skin. His sleeves were pushed up, showing off his strong forearms. She had never seen much of his skin before because he always wore long-sleeved button-down shirts. But today his arms were on display and she had to admit they looked very powerful for a man who had spent his entire career working behind a desk. “This is the first year Lillian’s will be taking part in it. And since Sweetness Bakery has dominated the pastry market there for the past few years, it’s important that Lillian’s makes a strong showing.”
