by Roi, D. S.
“Rebecca’s been talking about the cake all week. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
Asher came to the bathroom doorway and leaned against the frame. “You did good kid. Got yourself a real nice girl. I’m proud of you.”
“Ah, Dad.” Josh dismissed.
“No son, listen. I am. I’ve supplied locations for these events for a decade. You and Rebecca have something special I haven’t seen between two people in a long time. Now, I don’t care how many tours you go on, what city you’re playing in, or how long you’ll be away from home. You keep her close. You hear?”
“Yes, sir,” Josh said. “Hey, Dad? Thanks for doing this all for her. She’s so grateful.”
“Ah, I know.” Asher shoved himself to a stand. “What’s the point of being rich if you can’t give back? Besides, Rebecca’s a smart girl to allow us to fill her wedding day with strangers in order to capture some contracts. As Sally keeps reminding me, it’s her big day. I would think she has a strong business head on her shoulders or she wants you to be successful so much, she’s willing to do it. Either way, she loves you. Balls to bones.”
Josh grinned at him.
“So what brings you by?” Asher asked.
He shrugged. “Just antsy, I guess. I wanted to see Pops. What’s going on with him and grandma, anyway?”
Asher leaned against the bathroom doorframe. “Boy, you haven’t figured that one out yet?”
He smiled. “I know Ma Sally’s been crushin’ on him for a while.”
“Yep, made for each other,” Asher said. “Hell, they do better as a couple than Sally having your real Pops around.”
He chuckled. “Ma Sally says you do better as a dad than my real one.”
Asher was stunned. “She’s told you that?”
He shrugged. “She’s always said it, since I was a kid.” Joshua went on like his statement was commonplace.
“Ma Sally has always given me hell about adopting you.”
“When has Ma Sally ever stopped giving you hell, Dad?”
Asher laughed. “You’ve made a point if I’d ever heard one.”
“I think she means well. Just don’t know how to go about things. At least, I hope so.”
“Well, she gets my goat.” Asher crossed his arms. “You know, Ma Sally has this idea I needed a date for your wedding. You got that minor league kid coming to the shin dig, right?”
“Fredrick? Yeah, he’ll make the wedding. He was at the bachelor party.”
“Got himself a girl?”
Joshua shook his head.
“I’d like to ask if he’ll take my date off my hands. You got his number?”
“Ma Sally’s gonna be mad as an old wet hen.”
“Well,” Asher shrugged, “she never stops givin’ me hell.”
Josh stood, whipping out his phone to find the number. “When the vendors start showin’ up today?”
“Noon.”
“Wanna go fishing?”
Asher chuckled. “Now, there’s a good idea.”
When Cyana opened her gaze, she expected to see the little angel in the small bed across the room. He wasn’t there. She sat up and noted the time. A toddler not tucked in at three in the morning wasn’t any reason for alarm in the Huffing house. A mix of joy and excitement showered over her while a yawn tugged its way from her body.
She went to the kitchen where the family activity seemed to consolidate. Mama was in the glider and held a finger to her lips. The cherub missing from his bed snuggled against her shoulder. Cyana smiled and nodded, then headed to the workout room for a moderate yoga session to get her going. In another hour, the whole family would be up and dedicated to claiming space in the kitchen.
After yoga and a shower, she noticed Josiah sleeping in his bed again. Mama had finally escaped. She followed the scent of fresh brewed coffee. Mama sat at the laptop with a large mug in her hand.
“Morning Mama.”
“Mornin’ Baby. Getting an early start?”
“I may have been traveling a lot these past years, but I know how valuable space is in this kitchen. I wanna be outta the way as much as possible. I’d rather mix the mousse and icing on the island and dirty ice at the table since the cake pieces are so large.”
Mama nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”
“Are you double checking your grocery lists?” Cyana asked, while going to the pantry to grab the chocolate and sugar.
“Yeah, but it looks like we got everything we need. I believe Mr. Wilmington will be providing the extra staff of dishwashers and servers. We just gotta cook. I can’t wait to see this kitchen he’s put together.”
She sighed. “It’s lovely, Mama.”
“Are you two gonna be okay? Together, I mean.”
She shook her head. “Mama, I can’t go through with starting a relationship right now. I, uh, I told Asher yesterday I just couldn’t. I’ve gotta think about Eric. He can’t work, play ball and keep his grades up all at once. At least I can do the first part for him, so long as he handles the rest. Then Mr. Wright offered to mentor me through the startup phase of Huffin Muffin. Did you see his offer?”
“I did. I want you to think real careful about it.”
“Iona told me Huffing Kitchen considered his proposal to invest a few years back.” She gathered the eggs, cream and vanilla from the fridge. “What made you back out anyway?”
“Your daddy’s will, honey. It was his wish no one outside of the Huffing family ever get more than twenty percent of the family business. Now, Mr. Wright wanted forty percent. Way more than the limit.”
“And you were still considering?”
“Well, honey, every business he’s put money and time into increases their sales by a fifteen percent margin in the first five years while most new startups fail. Mr. Wright has a proven track record. He is a nice man. Smart, with great ideas. I’m always up for negotiating. But he wouldn’t come down below thirty. I won’t give him so much of your daddy’s legacy.”
Cyana smiled at Mama’s ruthless business sense.
“Your company, on the other hand, isn’t a part of the Huffing Kitchen estate. So, you can do what you want. Balance your dream with a heaping spoon of realism and you’ll be all right.”
“Thanks, Mama. My life can use a heapin’ spoon of realism right now.”
Mama chuckled. “Coupled with faith, baby. Your sista and I believe Huffing Kitchen will have a building, even without Mr. Wright’s investments. You should trust all of what’s going on with you and Asher will work itself out.”
She sighed. “Am I really so easy to read?”
“Baby, you just need some time to think is all.”
Before long the kitchen buzzed with mixers. Cyana was content in her world of chocolate, piping the barrier of cream cheese icing around each layer of cake needing filled with mousse. Iona entered the kitchen, hair still wet from her shower. They all greeted each other.
“What time’s the walk through today?” Cyana asked.
“Five thirty,” Iona said. “When does Eric get in?”
“His last text said he’d be checking into his room at noon and catching a nap before we met for our reservations at six thirty.”
“K. Then we’ll get your hair done before Mama and I go.”
The light blue dress Iona lent Cyana shimmered against the light and matched the iridescence of the silver pumps inlaid with rhinestones. Cyana admired her sister’s taste in clothing while sitting in the comfortable chair of the vanity. A long shawl and a matching clutch topped the look while Iona buzzed around her, securing one more of her kinks into a loose French roll.
“There,” Iona said. “You look fabulous.”
“Thank you.” Cyana stood and gave her a big hug. She smiled at Iona in her Huffing Kitchen Chef uniform. “So do you, Ms. Executive Chef of Huffing Kitchen. Are you sure you don’t need me at the Milway?”
“Girl, your boy drove forever to get down here ahead of his team and take his mama out. All we’re do
ing is taking notes and performing equipment checks. Prep’s tomorrow. We might need you then. Tell my nephew I love him.”
“I will.”
“K. Gotta go drop Josiah at Trina’s.” Iona kissed her cheek before heading out the door.
24
The Milway’s commotion finally calmed down. Asher settled into one of the foyer chairs. Exhaustion took its toll. He was grateful to see Laura arrive and take over the organizing. His mother’s personal assistant proved to be worth every penny of the salary he paid. With Herman in town, Sally made sure to spend every moment she could with Pops.
Asher needed to get his suit for the wedding. He could send Laura to the cleaners and deal with the chaos of putting the final touches on the Milway, or he could pick it up himself.
He checked his watch. Five fifteen. He secretly waited for this time. He didn’t know if the Huffings would have Cyana with them or not, but if so, he wanted to get a glance of her before turning them over to Laura. The sound of Iona’s laugh outside the doorway straightened his posture. He stood, swallowing at the heartbeat thumping in his throat. His chest ached. For a moment, he fisted his hands. The bell rang. He swung open the door to two wonderful smiles.
“Mr. Wilmington,” Iona greeted.
“Good evening, lovely Huffing ladies. Please, come inside.” The two women entered. He lingered at the doorway.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wilmington. It will just be us,” Mama Huffing said.
He closed the door and turned to them with a sting in his chest. “Of course. Let’s not delay and have you ladies out for too long. I’m certain we’re all busy with our plans. Laura, Sally’s personal assistant, has come by today to instruct all the vendors on their locations and functions. She certainly would know more about the organization and planning of the event then I would. Follow me. I’ll introduce you.” He whipped out his phone and texted Laura to meet him in the house kitchen.
“Oh my,” Laura said, entering the kitchen. “Mr. Wilmington, you look exhausted.”
“I am.” He nodded. “Can you take care of the ladies of Huffing Kitchen while I run out and get my suit?”
Laura smiled. “Of course. Ladies, follow me.”
Cyana could see Eric’s tall figure sitting on a bench along the road in front of Chef Marshall’s. He was incredibly dark skinned, tanned from the time on the football field. His head was shaved. He looked like a perfect gentleman in a white button shirt, black tie and slacks. The blazer hung over the bench while he soaked up the sun, which had finally peaked through after the cold front passed.
She couldn’t help but commend herself on what a handsome young man the Huffing women had raised. Tears threatened her eye makeup as she parked and swallowed at the knot forming in her throat. Her baby had been all grown up for a while now. She still got emotional about it.
“That’s enough, Cyana Huffing,” she scolded herself and fanned at her face. “Get yourself together.” Eric had already spotted her in the Gremlin and stood to come over to the car.
He opened the door before she could.
“Ma, are you crying?” he accused, with a big grin on his face.
She placed a hand to her chest. “Me? Never, boy. Why would I be crying?”
He took her hand to help her from the car while he laughed.
“Mama says it’s not good to lie,” he picked at her.
She smacked his arm while coming to a stand.
“Give your mama a hug, boy,” she said and gave him a squeeze.
He was a bundle of hard muscle fibers and laughter. Balance was always key in the Huffing house and a good dose of laughter came with anything.
“You look great, Ma,” he said, releasing her and closing the car door.
“Thank you.”
He stuck out his right elbow. She twined her hand into the crook while he walked them to Marshall’s entrance. “Did you enjoy the game?” he asked.
She smiled, looking up to him as they rounded the corner of the lot towards the main road to enter the restaurant. “Yes. That was an impressive fifty yard touchdown. You really capitalized on blocking the ball during fourth quarter.”
Eric’s chest stuck out. “Yeah, I’m good,” he boasted. They laughed.
Asher groaned before waking. The scent of leather permeated the spacious interior of his vehicle. He lay there a moment, staring at the overhead light in his reclined position. He wasn’t ever much for dealing with the hustle and bustle of wedding events. He just liked seeing the beauty of his work being used, admired and appreciated. He didn’t feel at all bad about catching a nap in the dry cleaner’s parking lot and leaving Laura in her element. The side of the building provided enough shade to keep the truck cool while running the air conditioner on low.
He took another slow inhale, glancing at the added scent cartridge on the air conditioner vent in the center of the dash. Peppermint. He sighed. Maybe Pops was right. He did have it bad.
Cyana’s favorite fragrance comforted him enough to sleep soundly. He lifted the handle on the side of the seat and brought himself upright. The energy from his nap seeped into his muscles. He rolled his neck; confident he could finish the day out strong and get enough rest to be fresh for the rehearsal dinner the next day. He reached for the stick shift and froze to a familiar tapping sound. He sat back in the seat, noticing Cyana in her car. The vehicle slowed, entering the heavily shaded parking lot across the street.
Intrigue settled in him. He glanced around to make out why she’d be downtown parking at Weynor County’s only Four-Star French restaurant. A tall gentleman sitting out front, tugged on the blazer to his suit and went toward the shaded lot, protected from the sun by a mix of mature oaks and maples.
Tension zipped down Asher’s spine at the possibilities. The man approached Cyana’s car. A rock formed in his gut. Cyana embraced the stranger.
Jealousy roared into Asher’s chest. Anger darkened his vision. Cyana hit the light, holding on to the young man’s arm. Lust roamed to Asher’s thighs as the shimmer of the blue gown she wore swayed over her curves.
“Son of a bitch.” Confusion clouded his thoughts. The couple disappeared into the restaurant. Asher gripped the wheel. Was this why she rejected him? Did she walk away because she didn’t want to start a relationship with a white boy when she already had someone? He eyed their behavior through Chef Marshall’s large front window as the maitre d' showed them to their seats. His Cyana was shy. By the looks of how she smiled and reached out to the man, she was familiar with him. She laughed. Asher’s chest ached with the need to hear her. Dammit. Was she leaving him to go to Chicago alone, or with this guy? Had she strung him along this entire time?
No way. Not fair. His grip loosened on the wheel. She’d given him enough hints she was resistant to his attention. Asher sensed an attraction he’d never felt before and took full advantage. His bull-headed ass charged in determined to break that filly. His jaw twitched. He’d been stubborn as hell. It was his fault things went as far as they had. Still, she should have given more of a fight if she was someone else’s.
“Come on, Ma.” Eric held out his hand once she’d cleaned away as much dessert as she wanted.
“What’s this about, boy?” she asked.
“I want to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said.
“You’re blowing a lot of smoke.” She smiled, taking his hand. “You still haven’t told me why you dragged me from my cake and took yourself away from your studies.”
She followed him to the dance floor and took his shoulder so he could lead.
“Okay, Ma.” Eric sighed. “I’m coming back to Georgia.”
“What?” The word croaked out.
“I’m comin’ home, Ma,” he repeated.
“Boy, you did not have me dragging you from football practice to football practice, camp to camp, college to college so you can not play ball when you want to play ball. You’ve always loved playin’.”
“Ma, we both know I’m out of the scholarsh
ip funds as soon as the semester is over.”
“I don’t care about the money running out. I will work three jobs, if I have to, to keep you at school.”
“Ma, stop.” Eric insisted. “Just stop.”
She clammed up at the plea.
“I don’t want that anymore. I’m done with it.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“I’m tired of you always giving up your dreams to support me, Ma. Now, I know you’ve always wanted your own pastry shop and Weynor has the market for it. This wedding Auntie got is a big opportunity for you to start moving on your dream. You have enough capital to get started. I want you to go into business with Auntie and Grandma. They’re doing very well and could use a chef like you.”
“So, you’re on their side. Orchestrating this whole event to get me to come down here just so you can tell me you’re quittin’ ball?” Her heart was breaking at the realization.
“I’m not quitting, Ma,” he said. His words set her back. She stopped swaying with him in the dance. “I’m my own man now, Ma. I want you to be happy. I’m a good ball player and an A student in Biogenetic Engineering,” he boasted. “I shouldn’t have to pay for college. I got a full scholarship to play for UGA. You won’t have to help pay for anything. I’ll be close to home so you can stay with Auntie and Grandma and not have to live by yourself.” He shot out the information with a big smile.
“What!” She squealed hopping up and down. “My baby got a full scholarship.” She leapt into his arms. He lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. He set her down amongst the dancers who parted against her outburst. She didn’t apologize. Instead she beamed with pride, gently telling them about Eric’s accomplishments and rendering congratulations.
“Oh, I’m so proud of you.” She took his face in both hands.
“I’m proud of you too, Ma. You’re ready to start your shop. You deserve it.”
