Sweeter Temptation (Kimani Hotties)

by Bourne, Phyllis

  Kyle nodded. “I’ll offer the employees relocation and placement at one of our household-goods manufacturing plants.”

  His uncle shook his head. “Give them a severance package of one week’s pay for every year they worked at the factory. No relocation or placement.”

  The fact he’d never had to worry about money didn’t make Kyle impervious to the reality that many people did, especially in the current economic climate. The details he’d quickly gathered from the paperwork still in his hands were fresh in his head.

  “Come on, this factory is the town’s largest employer. Our closing it will decimate it,” he said. “We can do better by them.”

  “Fine,” his uncle huffed. “I’ll go as high as a two-weeks salary for every year worked, but that’s it. We’ve owned this company less than a year, so I consider it extremely generous.”

  Kyle shook his head. “Surely, we can...”

  His uncle leaned forward in his chair and crossed his arms on the desk. “Ellison Industries is a household-goods conglomerate, not a social service agency,” he said. “It’s a tough break for the folks of Candy, Ohio, but it’s not our problem.”

  A smile that was half smirk lifted the corner of his uncle’s mouth. “If you’re not up to it, I can make it Logan’s first assignment, and you can resume your active social life.”

  Kyle kept his cool in the face of his uncle’s threat. “That won’t be necessary,” he said.

  “Then go take care of business, and prove to me you deserve to sit in your father’s chair.”

  Chapter 2

  The crowd was turning on her.

  Nia King heard it in the disgruntled murmurs filling the high-school auditorium. Saw it etched in the worried faces surrounding her as she stood before the crowd gathered for the town council meeting.

  “If you’ll all continue to be patient. We have a plan...” she began.

  “Plan?” A man in a tattered John Deere cap heckled from the back of the room. “Your grandmother was supposed to have had a plan. Only nobody knows a single detail of this mystery plan to save our jobs.”

  A chorus of jeers erupted in the audience echoing the man’s sentiment. They drowned out the mayor banging his gavel against the rickety table calling for order.

  I don’t need this crap, Nia thought. She hadn’t taken a leave of absence from her job in suburban Chicago and put her life on hold in the months since her grandmother’s death to get shouted down. She should just throw up her hands, jump into her grandma’s battered pickup and put the citizen’s of Candy, Ohio, along with their problems in her rearview mirror.

  But she knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  She’d made a commitment. One she’d keep, even if the only person to hold her to it was dead.

  A sharp whistle sliced through the air, silencing Nia’s thoughts and the din of unrest. The howl of the icy wind outside was the only sound, as every eye in the room shifted to the high school’s gym teacher blowing the whistle she wore on a cord around her neck.

  “For God’s sake, I didn’t come out in this dreadful weather to listen to you all gripe,” Amy Miller said. “Pipe down and let Nia finish. This isn’t her fight, but she stayed on here to help us. The least we can do is listen.”

  The heckler’s face flushed a chastened pink underneath his cap. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Nia nodded a silent thanks to her childhood friend Amy. These were good people, she reminded herself, but they were scared. And who could blame them?

  Christmas season profits, vital to a company that produced only peppermint bark, were abysmal, and its new parent company had been silent for months. If the hundred-year-old Peppermint Lane Candy Factory shut down it would leave most of the people in the room unemployed and the town named for it in serious jeopardy.

  “No apology necessary,” Nia said, feeling a twinge of guilt over her earlier thoughts of abandoning them. “You’re right. I’ve searched every inch of my grandmother’s place, and unfortunately, I haven’t found any clues to what her plans were to revive the factory.”

  She paused and cleared her throat. “However, I’m working with the mayor and the city council on another plan. One we believe will finally put the Peppermint Lane factory and the town of Candy on Ellison Industries’ radar.”

  A cell phone belted out a tune, and the mayor motioned for Nia to continue as he walked outside the auditorium to take the call.

  “We’re putting the finishing touches on a proposal we’ll present to you all next week in a special town-hall meeting,” Nia said. “It includes—”

  “Excuse me, Nia,” the mayor, who’d returned to the auditorium, interrupted. He turned his attention to the audience. “Folks, I’m afraid I have to adjourn the meeting. The weather forecast of several inches of snow has been upgraded to a full-blown blizzard.”

  Grumbles rippled through the crowd. Again, Nia couldn’t blame them. According to the calendar, spring had officially sprung more than a week ago. However, it seemed to have skipped western Ohio. Now, even the most hard-core winter lovers were past ready to retire their ice scrapers and shovels for the season.

  “We’d all best head home while we still can,” the mayor said.

  Nia shrugged on her goose-down parka and pulled a wool hat over her recently shorn head. She should have held off until spring had gotten a foothold before getting rid of her relaxer with “the big chop,” she thought, jamming her hands into mittens. She stuffed her notes back inside her tote bag and looked through the crowd for Amy, spotting her friend already walking in her direction.

  While the majority of people at tonight’s meeting lived in town and didn’t have far to go, Nia’s late grandmother’s and Amy’s farmhouses were located in the county’s outskirts.

  “You two are welcome to stay at my house,” the mayor offered. “The wife and I’d be glad to have you.”

  Nia appreciated the kindness of the man, who the town had selected to finish her grandmother’s second mayoral term after she’d died late last year. However, she preferred to ride out the storm in her own space, relaxing in a much-anticipated bubble bath.

  “Thanks, but I promised Matt I’d deliver Amy home to him.”

  “It’s pretty nasty out,” the mayor said.

  “Certainly is.” A voice from behind them concurred, and Nia groaned inwardly.

  “Evening, Deputy,” she said, as the sheriff’s deputy joined the conversation.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Don?” he asked.

  Nia knew the deputy had been summoning up the courage to ask her out again, and she’d managed to dodge him earlier. He was a nice guy, and she didn’t like hurting his feelings, but she simply wasn’t interested.

  “I’d be happy to give you ladies a lift or follow you in the squad car to make sure you both get home safely.”

  “Thank you, Deputy Butler, that would be...” Amy began, before Nia zeroed in on her with a laser-beam side eye. “Um, I mean it’s not necessary.”

  “Are you sure?” he persisted. “Snow’s piling up, and the roads are slick. Wouldn’t want you sliding off the road and getting stuck.”

  Ten minutes later, Nia wished she hadn’t been so hasty in turning down the deputy’s offer. The snow was coming down at a faster clip than when they’d started out, rapidly adding inches to feet remaining from back-to-back storms in the past weeks.

  Nia eased the truck down the two-lane road she usually sped along. The wipers on the 1979 Ford pickup barely kept pace with the snow pelting the windshield. Her passenger, on the other hand, was unfazed by Mother Nature’s tantrum.

  “You’d think we would have heard something from those damn Ellisons by now,” Amy said.

  Nia knew her friend was frustrated. Her husband, Matt, a foreman at the factory had seen his hours cut to the
point he was practically part-time and had begun searching for a job out of town.

  “What good is the factory being bought by a powerhouse company if they’re just going to ignore it?” Amy asked. “You can’t turn on the television without seeing a commercial for their paper towels or detergent. You’d think Peppermint Lane could get a sliver of that fat Ellison money pie.”

  Nia thought about the idea she, along with the mayor and town council, had been working on for weeks. It was a solid business proposal she hoped would get the attention of the Ellison Industries CEO, Jonathan Ellison.

  A patch of black ice suddenly jerked the truck out of Nia’s control and sent it veering toward the guardrail. Easing her foot off the gas, she white-knuckled the steering wheel and wrestled the ancient truck out of the skid seconds before it would have crashed into the railing.

  Nia blew out a shaky breath at the close call. Despite the frigid night, beads of sweat rolled down her back.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Her passenger was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice the near accident. “Matt’s interviewing at a manufacturing plant in Georgia next week. If they make him a job offer, he says he’s taking it...” Amy’s voice trailed off. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Let’s hope Jonathan Ellison bites on this proposal, so you won’t have to,” Nia said.

  The tires of the truck crunched through the packed snow as Nia turned onto the narrow road leading to the Miller’s house. Visibility had decreased to the point she could hardly see the glow from the house’s lights less than a quarter mile ahead.

  “I know you turned down the mayor, but you’re welcome to stay with us,” Amy said.

  “I don’t have far to go now. I’ll be okay,” Nia assured her.

  “It’s not the drive. I don’t want you getting lonely out there by yourself. We could end up snowbound for days.”

  Nia chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of work to keep me company.”

  Amy looked through the windshield at the blowing snow and shivered. “Work won’t keep you warm on a night like this.”

  “I have two fireplaces and a stack of wood. They’ll keep me nice and toasty,” Nia countered.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” Her friend waggled her perfectly arched brows.

  “You know isn’t high on my priority list.”

  Once she wrapped up her grandmother’s unfinished business, Nia had her own career to focus on. And nothing made a woman lose sight of her goals quicker than getting caught up in a man.

  At twenty-seven years old, she’d finally earned her bachelor’s degree in urban planning. Now that she’d acquired the education to accompany her work experience, Nia hoped her boss would make good on his promise to promote her from her dead-end secretarial job in the economic-development office of the small Chicago suburb.

  Amy made a tsking sound. “Would it kill you to take off those goody two-shoes of yours, just once, and have some fun? Just because you’re staying at your grandmother’s place doesn’t mean you have to live like an old lady.”

  “I am not a goody two-shoes.” Nia rolled her eyes skyward at the nickname Amy had teased her with since the second grade, after she’d tattled on her friend for swiping Oreo cookies from their teacher’s secret stash. “A woman doesn’t have to be stuck up under a man 24/7 to be happy, you know.”

  “Then you haven’t spent any quality time underneath the right one.” Amy nudged her with an elbow and snickered. “Or on top of one. For instance, Candy’s own Deputy Butler who’s been smitten ever since you came back to town.”

  “Don’t start that up again,” Nia warned.

  “He’s not so bad,” Amy said. “You could do a lot worse.”

  Nia’s brain automatically filled in the words her friend was too kind to say. An ordinary-looking woman like her didn’t exactly have eligible bachelors knocking down her door. Unlike her mother, Nia was no great beauty. It was a fact she’d accepted long ago.

  She slowed the truck to a stop in front of her friend’s house. Even if she were in the market for a bed warmer, the idea of getting down and dirty with the deputy didn’t rouse her libido from its long hibernation.

  “Girl, get out of my truck with that matchmaking mess.”

  “Okay, okay,” Amy relented.

  The wind whipped through the pickup’s cab as Amy threw open the passenger-side door. More lights came on and Matt appeared on the porch. He trudged through the snow toward them.

  “Thought you were working second shift tonight?” Amy asked, when he took her hand and helped her down from the truck.

  Matt shook his head. “Not enough work. They sent us home. So I’ve got dinner on the stove and a bottle of wine chilling.”

  He stuck his head inside the truck. Snowflakes clung to his hair and eyelashes.

  “Evening, Nia. You okay driving home?”

  “I’m good,” she said.

  Nia watched the couple walk up the snowy drive and climb the porch, Matt’s arm wrapped protectively around his wife. He whispered something in her ear, and Amy’s girlish giggle rode the night wind.

  Nia felt a pang of longing, but quickly dismissed it as she put the truck into gear.

  Once she sold the Ellisons on her proposal and got her long-awaited promotion, maybe she’d take Amy’s advice—kick off her sensible, goody two-shoes and replace them with a pair of sky-high, do-me stilettos.

  Chapter 3

  Kyle clenched the padded-leather steering wheel barely managing to maneuver the sports car out of another skid.

  Driving his new Ferrari to Ohio had seemed like a good idea back in Nashville, where daffodils were popping up all over town. However, five hours north the temperatures had done a free fall, and the colors of spring had given way to a blanket of white.

  He’d only half heard Margie when she’d mentioned the Ellison jet was down for maintenance, and an impending snowstorm had made it impossible for her to book him a charter or commercial flight. He’d been too busy replaying the scene with Uncle Jon and Logan in his head.

  By now, Uncle Jon had offered his cousin the vice-president job, and Logan had undoubtedly accepted. Kyle relaxed his clenched jaw before he ground his teeth to dust.

  Like it or not, his ascension to the CEO job was no longer a sure thing. So, in addition to his image problem, he had to prove he’d make a better CEO than Logan, who already seemed to have an ally in Uncle Jon.

  Kyle switched on the satellite radio, and the soothing strains of classical music filled the car’s interior. His strategy was simple. He had to make quick work of shutting down the Peppermint Lane Candy Factory and haul ass back to Nashville as soon as possible.

  He glanced at the dashboard. According to the GPS, Candy was only twenty-eight miles away. He looked forward to getting out of this weather and settling into the hotel Margie had booked for him in the adjacent town of Brookville.

  The cell phone on the passenger seat buzzed, and Kyle saw Greta’s name on the small screen. He considered letting the call go to voice mail, but picked up instead. The statuesque beauty with the raven hair was just what he needed to get his mind off Logan.

  “Hello, stranger,” she said.

  Kyle had dated the freelance photographer on and off last year back when he had time for both work and play. Those carefree days seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “Greta.” Saying her name reminded him of impromptu trips to sunny locales. “What a nice surprise. How are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m on a fashion shoot in Miami,” she said.

  Kyle looked out at the snow beating down on the windshield. “Must be nice.”

  “It would be a lot nicer if you fired up the Ellison jet and joined me,” she said. “Did I mention having two courtside tickets to this weekend’s Miami g
ame?”

  “Against Boston?” Kyle stammered.

  A huge basketball fan and former college player, his mouth watered at the prospect of watching the battle of the conference rivals. “That’s a hot ticket.”

  Greta’s voice dropped an octave. “The game won’t be the only thing hot and waiting on you to get here,” she said. “I promise to make the trip worth your while.”

  Kyle grinned. He was sure she would. Unfortunately, his delight was only temporary. There was no way he could take off to Miami.

  Commandeering the company jet for some fun in the sun would only feed into the impression of him he’d allowed to go on too long. Initially, he thought it was cool and even enjoyed his player rep. So what if it overshadowed the hard work he put in at Ellison; his brother was supposed to eventually take over the business.

  Now Kyle knew if he ever wanted to be taken seriously, it was time for him to show his business side full force and prove he was also his father’s son.

  “Sorry, but duty calls. I’m up to my eyeballs in work and can’t break away,” he said.

  “You said that last time I called.”

  “We’re starting up a new personal care division at Ellison,” he said. “It’s kept me busy.”

  “Yeah, you said that too.”

  “Because it’s true.” Kyle felt a prickle of annoyance. He also remembered why he’d cooled things with the dark-haired beauty.

  A pause followed, and Kyle didn’t have to imagine the pout on Greta’s face. Considering the way the wind was whipping the snow across the road, it was time he got off the phone anyway.

  “Well, I’d better be going. Good...”

  “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Now she was getting around to the real reason she’d called, Kyle thought.

  “Uh...if I remember correctly, you’re a member of the Coach Country Club, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I am.” His family held a lifetime membership in the prestigious club and took full advantage of its amenities. He and his brother enjoyed the fitness options, including state-of-the-art gym and an aquatics center with three Olympic-size pools. His uncle stuck to the offerings of its gourmet restaurants.