Silken Embrace (The Drakes of California)
Page 3
“Do you see Mr. Drake often?”
“Yes. He comes and talks to Mr. Adams. They’re good friends.”
“How do you know?”
“They laugh a lot.”
“Oh.”
Kyle sat on the bench at the foot of her bed, tapped the face of the tablet and restarted a numbers game. “I like Mr. Drake.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Because he is cool.”
Great. Even her son was smitten. Well, Mr. Cool made Mommy hot, and glad that Luther Adams was Kyle’s main teacher. Not good for her son to get too attached to a man in their lives only temporarily. She walked over to the closet and stood in front of a row of shoes, deciding. She was in no way trying to impress Mr. Drake, but still bypassed the comfy flats and chose a pair of strappy crystal-covered stilettos to pair with her black skinny jeans and off-the-shoulder cream-colored top. “Go get your Power Ranger backpack. It’s packed with clothes for you.”
Kyle looked up. “Where am I going?”
“Oh. I didn’t tell you? You’ve been invited to Conner’s house for an overnight playdate.”
“Awesome!”
She laughed as he ran from the room, his interest in Mommy’s date, who just happened to be with Mr. Cool, totally forgotten. It had been Lauren’s idea to have Kyle spend the night. They were good friends who shared almost everything. Lauren was probably just as excited that Aliyah might get some as she was.
A few minutes later and they were in the car and headed to the Hensleys, whose house was mere blocks away. She only had a few minutes once they arrived, but she still got out of the car to greet her mentor and best friend.
“Hey, girl.”
“Hey yourself. Don’t you look snazzy!” Leaning in, Lauren whispered, “I especially love those F-me pumps.”
Rather than disagree, Aliyah cosigned. “If I’m lucky!”
They laughed and high-fived.
Aliyah had met Lauren during her sophomore year in high school. At that time, Lauren worked as a counselor at the academy Aliyah attended. A raven-haired, free-spirited thirtysomething cutie from California, Lauren quickly picked up on some of Aliyah’s classmates’ antics. She paid special attention to Aliyah, not only for that reason, but also because she was so smart. And driven, too. When Aliyah announced her plans to become a doctor, Lauren was her biggest cheerleader, helping Aliyah choose appropriate classes and complete scholarship applications. Once Aliyah graduated high school, the two kept in touch and when she got pregnant, it was Lauren that Aliyah went to first with the news, ashamed to tell her mother for fear of being a disappointment. Somewhere between then and the time Kyle was born, mentor and mentee became best friends. A short time later Lauren’s husband, a professor, landed a job at the University of California at Davis, a college located close to where Lauren had grown up. She jumped at the chance to move back west and once she found out about the college’s residency program, lobbied for Aliyah to finish there.
After pulling out money for Kyle’s entertainment, a move that Lauren summarily rebuffed, Aliyah waved goodbye. Before leaving Lauren’s driveway, she typed the address Terrell had texted her into the GPS. He hadn’t told her the name of where they were meeting. Not that it mattered. Since arriving a month ago, Aliyah’s world had basically been work, home and Kyle’s school. Wherever they were meeting was likely someplace she’d not been before.
Fifteen minutes later and not only was she somewhere she’d never been before, but it was also some place she never would have guessed he’d ask her to meet.
Terrell exited his car as she pulled up, his eyes sparkling, smile wide. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Hey.” She stepped into his open arms for a hug. “What is this place?”
“An airport, Aliyah. Small, I know, but all that we need.”
She gave him a look. “Thanks for stating the obvious. Where are we going?”
“San Francisco.”
“Are you serious?”
“You said we couldn’t meet in Paradise Cove. I couldn’t think of an appropriate place for this night in Davis. So we’re going to San Francisco.”
“And we’re flying? I heard it’s only an hour’s drive away.”
“More like ninety minutes, depending on traffic. Why get stuck in traffic when you can fly over it?”
The logic of the rich, much like Kyle’s father, except without a snobbish tone. Still, every similarity to Ernest Westcott was a strike against Terrell Drake. But given the emotional distance she planned to maintain, that was probably a good thing.
They entered the regional airport hangar and walked over to a sleek private jet where two men, one casually dressed in button-down and slacks, the other wearing a stained gray uniform, stood talking. Mr. Casual saw them approaching and broke away from the worker, who turned and walked into an office.
“Mr. Drake!”
“Stan, my man!” The two men shook hands. Terrell turned to Aliyah. “Stan, I’d like you to meet Aliyah Robinson, an east coast transplant suffering from a case of small-townitis.”
Stan smiled as he held out his hand. “San Francisco is a great remedy for that disease. A pleasure to meet you.”
Aliyah greeted him. “Likewise.”
“Are we ready to go? I saw you in discussion with the mechanic.”
“We were just shooting the breeze. We’re all set. Inspection completed. Gauges checked. Bar is stocked. Just waiting on you.”
“After you.” Terrell stepped aside so that Aliyah could precede him up the steps. Midway, she turned quickly. As expected, his eyes were squarely on her assets.
“Hey, it’s directly in my line of vision!”
“You’re obsessed,” she said with a chuckle, and continued up the steps. Ernest’s family had chartered private jets on occasion, for events to which she’d not been invited. This was her first time inside one. If its interior was any indication of how the Drakes lived, theirs was a lavish, luxurious lifestyle. She took it all in: buttery leather seats, mahogany trim, crystal this, platinum that. All the discomfort from earlier returned.
Terrell motioned for Aliyah to sit in one of two front seats, watching her as she did so. “You all right?”
She nodded.
“You’re not afraid of flying are you?”
“No, but I’m usually on a bigger plane.”
“Don’t worry,” Terrell said, continuing to the bar that was midway back. “This is one of the safest planes out there and when it comes to pilots, Stan is top-notch. He flew fighter jets in the air force. He can do this hop to San Fran in his sleep. What can I get you to drink?”
“What are you having?”
“Let’s pop a bottle—make it a celebration.”
“What are we celebrating?”
Terrell shrugged. “Life.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Terrell poured two flutes and returned to his seat. He lifted his glass. “To a wonderful time in the big city.”
Aliyah tapped his glass and sipped. “Mmm, this is good. I don’t like champagne that’s either too dry or too sweet. This is neither.” She took another sip. “What brand is this?”
“It’s called Diamond, a Drake Wines product.”
Ah, yes. The grape-growing brother. “Your family owns a winery?”
“My immediate family is in real estate, for the most part. But my brother Warren, the one who co-owns the land with my grandfather, planted several acres of grapes that are now thriving. He did so on the advice of one of my cousins, whose family owns a resort and winery in Southern California.”
“Lots of success in your family.”
“We’ve been blessed.”
The captain walked back and asked them to buckle up. Ten minutes later they were above the clouds that had hovered f
or most of the day, surrounded by brilliant blue skies and a sun that would not be setting before they landed.
“So tell me about your family, Aliyah.”
“It’s not like yours, that’s for sure.”
“Few are.” This answer got a raised brow. “I don’t say that arrogantly, but honestly. It’s a lifestyle that is not commonly experienced, one I’m grateful to have. But nothing was handed to us on a silver platter. My family’s achievements come from a combination of luck, good timing and lots of hard work.”
Aliyah nodded, her mind awhirl with how to respond to his question. She wasn’t ashamed of her family, nor the struggles they all endured growing up in a vibrant but gritty section of Brooklyn’s Prospect Heights. The drive, resilience and determination to succeed arose from the notorious neighborhood activities she sometimes witnessed, events that left some childhood friends and acquaintances incarcerated too long, pregnant too young or dead too early. Those experiences helped make her who she was today. But she knew all too well how the upper two percent sometimes viewed the working class, since she’d spent twelve years—high school, undergrad and graduate school—surrounded by students of privilege and families of wealth. While dating Ernest, she had a bird’s-eye view of how high society operated—the judgments, condescension and exclusivity, and how friends were chosen less by personality and more by zip code and pedigree. Not even her becoming a doctor was good enough to gain entry. “A charity case to fulfill quotas” was how her attending the same Ivy League college as Ernest was described by his parents. As if her high SAT scores and 4.0 grade average—an average maintained even after the baby and while working part-time—had nothing to do with it.
Terrell mistook her silence. “Listen, Aliyah, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Oh, no. It’s not that.” She took a sip of champagne and gazed out the window a moment before turning back to him. “Kyle’s father is from a wealthy family, one into which I was never accepted. They abhorred my background, disapproved of our dating. My becoming pregnant left them petrified. Their vitriol was unrelenting, to the point where even I questioned my worth. It took a long time to rebuild my confidence. There is evidently still some work to do.”
“Where was Kyle’s father while his family attacked you?”
Her smile was bittersweet. “Mostly, on their side.”
“Even after you gave birth to his son?”
“Oh, that was just to trap him, you see, and a determination made only after paternity was proven by not one official test, but three.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As serious as his parents were when they demanded I take them. After Kyle was born, they ramped up the pressure for him to dump his low-brow girlfriend and find someone respectable to marry. Someone with the right...credentials. That’s what he did.”
“Then you’re better off without him. A man who doesn’t have your back, no matter what the situation or who the person is attacking, doesn’t deserve you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Hopefully he helps out financially, at least.”
“The bare minimum, thanks to creative accounting and a savvy attorney. What they didn’t understand, and still don’t, is that Ernest’s presence in Kyle’s life would be more valuable than any check he could write. Every child needs a father, but for boys, it’s even more important.
“In the end, it’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone with that set of grandparents. There’s no telling how they’d poison his mind, or scar his soul.”
Terrell reached over and caressed her face. “Would it sound too selfish for me to say that I’m glad he’s not in your life?”
“Yes, that sounds selfish. But I’m still glad you said it.”
He leaned. She leaned. Their lips touched, softly, exploring. Soon their tongues intertwined, still bearing the essence of the wine. He kissed her thoroughly. She matched him stroke for stroke.
He pulled back. “I’d better stop while I can. We’ll soon be landing.”
Terrell’s kiss erased yesteryear’s heartache. Aliyah relaxed into the comfort of the supple leather, and began to feel the excitement of being in a private plane with a handsome man, soaring to a night of fun. She finished her flute of champagne and turned flirty eyes to Terrell.
“I’m glad Kyle is at your center. All of the men there, at least the ones I’ve met, seem genuinely invested in the program’s success and are great male role models.”
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
Terrell extended his arm across the aisle. Aliyah placed her small hand inside his much larger one. “I’m glad he’s there, too. We’ll do our best to provide him with the mentorship he needs. Meanwhile, tonight—” Terrell raised her hand and kissed it lightly “—I’d like to make sure his mother, the lovely Aliyah Robinson, gets whatever it is she wants and needs as well.”
Chapter 4
They landed at San Francisco International Airport and were whisked away to a cozy, upscale restaurant with stunning views of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.
Aliyah looked around. “I didn’t expect we’d be someplace this fancy. Glad I wore my crystal stilettos or I’d feel out of place.”
“You could walk in here wearing a garbage bag and outshine every woman in the room.”
Aliyah laughed and sat back in her chair. “Wow, you are a salesman, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and a darn good one. But that wasn’t a line.”
The waiter came over and after describing the evening’s special features, took their drink and appetizer orders. After further discussion of the menu and deciding on entrées, the conversation came back around to their continuing to get to know each other.
“So, Aliyah...”
“Yes?”
“What made you decide to become a doctor?”
“Not just any doctor but an anesthesiologist, specifically. The reason? Shannon’s mom.”
“Was she an anesthesiologist?”
Aliyah nodded. “My seventh-grade summer, I was selected for a math-and-science program that paired students from different schools to work on a project together. I was paired with this geeky, slightly chubby girl named Shannon. We were best friends from day one. So much so that she invited me to her birthday party. She lived on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. That train ride took me to another world and changed my life.
“After that day, I spent several more at her house. One time we were in her room and I was asking how her family lived the way they did. Where they got so much money. Her mother was walking by and answered, ‘We worked for it.’ I asked her what she did and she told me that she was an anesthesiologist. Right then and there, I decided that’s what I’d be, too. Of course, had I known that such a declaration was going to cost me twelve additional years of my life after high school, I would have chosen Shannon’s father’s career instead.”
“What did he do?”
“Worked in finance. On Wall Street. He’s retired now. They both are. Shannon still lives in the home I visited but her parents spend most of their time in their villa in France.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“I love it. Money and the lavish lifestyle I saw at Shannon’s house is what sparked my interest. The satisfaction I found during the educational journey to my goal is what’s kept me here.”
“You’ve accomplished a lot. As a single mother, it couldn’t have been easy.”
“I’m not used to easy. Anytime I think of quitting I remember those on the block who chose differently, and are no longer with us. I never want Kyle to experience what I saw growing up. He’s my motivation.”
Dinner arrived. The conversation changed. From the appetizer to dessert, the food was as decadent as Aliyah’s thoughts had been ever si
nce Terrell’s promise to satisfy her. They left the restaurant, and just when she thought the night couldn’t get any better Terrell surprised her with tickets and backstage passes to see one of her favorite artists, Janelle Monáe. The show was rocking, so much so that Aliyah was almost able to ignore all the attention Terrell received from the ladies. Even if she were interested in a serious relationship, which she wasn’t, Terrell wouldn’t be on her short list. Relationships were hard enough. One with walking temptation wrapped around fifty shades of sexy would be impossible.
After spending time with the singer backstage, Terrell placed his arm around Aliyah and pulled her to his side. They walked toward the exit. “Ms. Robinson?”
She placed an arm around his waist. “Yes?”
“Have you enjoyed the evening so far?”
“Are you kidding? This has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“It makes me happy to hear that.”
“I’m happy that you’re happy.”
He stopped and turned to her. “Then only one question remains.”
“What’s that?”
“Should our next destination be the airport, to take you home and kiss you good-night at the door, or my place here in San Francisco, away from Paradise Cove’s prying eyes?”
She leaned into him. “Mr. Drake, I want you to take me wherever you can fulfill your promise of leaving me fully satisfied.”
They couldn’t reach the Drake place fast enough.
“Wow.” Aliyah stepped inside, immediately noticing the city view from their high perch in the hills. “This is beautiful.”
Terrell came up behind her, kissing her temple as he wrapped her in his arms. “So is this.”
She turned into him, desire in her eyes. The evidence of his desire was a little farther down.
“You know what I’ve been wanting to do all night?”
“Probably the same thing on my mind.”
Their heads moved in unison toward a mutual destination. The kiss was soft, purposeful, their lips rubbing against each other in a casual get-to-know. Terrell’s hands went on a journey of discovery, meandering over her shoulders, down her back and to the top of bootyliciousness. Aliyah, who at five-five had always preferred a tall man, relished how her five-inch heels made it possible to easily wrap her arms around his neck. With a swipe of her tongue against his lips, she intensified the exchange.