The doorbell rang, and Jake glanced at his watch. Half past twelve. Who would stop by at lunchtime?
“Jake, honey, please get the door,” Emily called out of her bedroom. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Were you expecting someone?”
“Yes.”
“Who?” When she didn’t answer, he headed to the door and opened it, momentarily rendered speechless by the beautiful brunette standing before him. Luminous doe eyes the color of melted chocolate glowed in a sweet face tinged pink from the 30-degree cold outside. He wondered if the tip of her small, straight nose was cold because it was pink too.
Her raven brows drew together as she cocked her head to one side and stared at him. “Hi,” she said tentatively.
He leaned against the door jamb. “Hello,” he returned, wondering who she was.
One slim hand clutched the lapel of her red wool coat and the other one tugged on the cream-colored slouchy beret atop her long, silky black hair as she continued to stare at him. Twinkly star-shaped earrings dangled from her earlobes catching the light from the foyer chandelier, but what drew his immediate attention were the two suitcases flanking her—one rather large one and a sizeable carry-on.
She craned her neck and peered behind him. “Do I have the right home?”
“Depends on who you’re looking for.” He straightened and held out his hand, trying to keep his gaze away from her rosy mouth—a rather kissable one at that. “I’m Jake Radcliffe. And you are?”
“Pilar Falcon,” she said and shook his hand. He wasn’t sure what caused it, the velvety softness of her skin against his or static electricity, but a tiny zap caught him by surprise. It startled her too. Almond eyes wide, she blinked her long lashes and snatched her hand back.
“Welcome, Pilar!” his mother’s voice cried cheerfully.
Jake turned to see Emily rushing toward them, her cheeks pink and blue eyes twinkling. She stepped in front of Jake and beamed at the dazed young woman. “I trust you had a good flight?”
“I did…thank you.” Pilar’s quizzical gaze met Jake’s as Emily took her arm and ushered her inside. He shrugged and followed them.
“Jake, please take Pilar’s suitcases to the guest bedroom.”
Jake’s brows drew together and lowered over his nose as he studied his mother in consternation. Not once in the past week had she mentioned there would be another houseguest besides him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he said dryly.
Emily threw her hands in the air. “Yes, of course. Where are my manners?” She gestured to the young woman. “Meet Pilar Falcon. She’s the pastry chef I told you about who makes the most divine desserts at Tequila Sunset in Naples.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jake murmured, wondering why Pilar would be staying with them. It couldn’t be that all the hotels in Manhattan were booked.
“Likewise.” A dimple appeared in Pilar’s flushed cheek as her lips lifted in a beguiling smile.
“Pilar is going to be assisting you for the shop’s anniversary holiday party,” Emily said.
A surprised “Oh?” escaped Jake’s lips as he turned to his mother with raised brows.
“Yes, I promised you the best and here she is,” Emily said before turning away from his probing gaze. “Pilar, this handsome rascal who’s gaping at me is my son, Jake.”
“Nice touch, mother,” Jake drawled when he heard Pilar laugh softly.
Emily smiled enigmatically. “It is, isn’t it?”
What other surprises did she have shored up for him? It seemed like a lot of maneuvering if she was matchmaking. Or maybe she wasn’t. Could be she really had hired Pilar to assist him. He wasn’t complaining. The pastry chef was gorgeous, and it wouldn’t be a sacrifice to work with her. But why had his mother flown her up from Florida when there was so much talent in the food industry locally?
Clearly, Emily Radcliffe was on a mission. She looked utterly delighted too. Come to think of it, she’d been in an exceptionally good mood since she woke up. Now he knew why. His mother was definitely up to something inviting Pilar to stay in her home instead of a hotel.
Pilar, for her part, looked a bit unsettled. Did she realize that she’d be residing in the same townhome with him and his mother?
Chapter 2
Emily linked her arm with Pilar’s as they followed Jake down the hall. Pilar gazed around her in awe. The décor of the brownstone was sumptuously elegant. Decorated in soft shades of taupe and cream, it had gleaming wooden floors, thick Persian rugs and oil paintings. There was nothing minimalist about her collection of antiques and sculptures, yet it didn’t appear cluttered for all its lavishness.
The only thing missing was Christmas—no tree and no decorations anywhere.
“You have a beautiful home, Emily.”
Emily patted Pilar’s arm and smiled at her. “Thank you, I love the neighborhood. This building is nearly a hundred years old. My husband John and I renovated our townhome several times over the years, updating the floors, the kitchen and the bathrooms. The kitchen is in there, by the way.” She pointed to an open arch that led to a good-sized kitchen. “Please feel at home.”
“That’s so kind of you. Thanks.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m so tickled that you accepted my offer to create the desserts for the anniversary soiree and the dinner for our employee party.”
“I’m thrilled to be here, and I’m also eager to see your famous candy shop.”
“Oh, honey. It’s not famous, just been around a long time. We have a wonderful clientele who keep coming back for more.”
Pilar couldn’t get over how unpretentious Emily was in spite of her wealth. Her inscrutable son, however, intrigued her as she tried to connect with his vibes. Unlike his friendly mom, he hadn’t said much since Pilar arrived.
She sensed a bit of mistrust, whether it was aimed at her or his mother, she couldn’t tell yet. But when his tall, muscular body had filled the doorway earlier, her senses had been heightened by his tautly harnessed energy. She still felt a bit off kilter.
Jake’s athletic build oozed confidence and his strong, masculine jawline exuded tenacity. She glanced at the broad set of his shoulders beneath the slate blue cashmere sweater as he walked ahead of them. His charcoal wool trousers skimmed over solid muscle underneath. He had the primed body of a seasoned athlete.
Emily had previously mentioned that she was very proud of her successful son, but she hadn’t said anything about his personal life. Was Jake single? He sure was easy on the eyes. She turned her gaze away from temptation. She was getting paid to work, not socialize.
They passed an antique sideboard containing several silver frames filled with candid photographs, and Emily paused to look at the large, gold-framed painting hanging above the table. She smoothed back her chin-length blond waves and lovingly studied the portrait. Her eyes glowed with such longing, Pilar felt a hitch in her chest.
“What a beautiful portrait,” Pilar said.
“Thank you,” Emily said. “Wasn’t my husband handsome?”
“Very,” Pilar agreed, noting how much Jake resembled his late father. Though John’s thick hair was white whereas Jake’s was tawny chestnut, they shared the same deep blue eyes, chiseled jaw and firm lips.
Emily’s eyes misted, and she quickly blinked. “This portrait was made when we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary, a year before John passed.” A muffled sigh escaped her. “I loved him dearly. He was a wonderful man.”
“The best,” Jake said, “and you’re not too bad yourself.” He put his arm around his mom’s shoulder and squeezed it fondly.
“You’d better say that.” Emily lightly jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “John knew how to make me laugh. He had a great sense of humor and was always up for a good time.” She lifted a photograph and showed it to Pilar. “Look at us dressed up for Halloween. John was Darth Vader; I was Princess Leia; and Jake was a pint-sized Luke Skywalker. When Jake saw Darth Vader coming into t
he room, his eyes got as big as saucers.”
Jake snorted. “I remember that day. I screamed when I saw him. Nearly scared me to death.”
Emily’s laughter sounded like tinkling bells. “I guess we should have warned you.”
“Yeah, thanks for that childhood trauma,” Jake murmured. “Where do you want me to put Pilar’s suitcases?”
“In the room next to yours,” Emily said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Pilar tried to hide her surprise. Jake lived here? He didn’t seem the type to live with his mother. The man had confidence in spades. She recalled the electrical zap between them earlier, and the feel of his large hand wrapped around hers. A shiver tickled her spine. Her gaze flew to Jake’s.
He watched her coolly, then unexpectedly, one corner of his mouth kicked up, and her tummy did a crazy flip. So far, his expression had been reserved, but that smile. And he’d be sleeping in the room next door? She was in the danger zone, for sure.
Pilar asked him, “Do you live here too?” just to make sure.
His brows snapped together. “Me?” He sounded baffled that she’d think he lived with his mother.
Emily waved a blithe hand. “Oh heavens, no. Jake barely lays his head on a pillow before he takes off for another location somewhere around the world. He’s a nomad with no roots—yet.” The inflection she put on “yet” wasn’t lost on Pilar, though Jake didn’t react. “We’re lucky he came home to oversee the parties. He’s the master or organization.”
“Just call me master,” he said with the barest hint of a smile.
Pilar lifted her brows and squelched a grin at Jake’s dry wit foiling his mother’s praise.
“Jake, really.” Emily shook her head. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Pilar.”
“I’m here for the holidays, to answer your question,” he said. “My work calls for a lot of traveling. I own a place in Brooklyn Heights, but when I come home, I stay with my mother and help her with whatever she needs.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Pilar said, approving of his kindness.
Emily, who barely reached her tall son’s shoulder, beamed up at him. “And I do appreciate it, son.”
“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you,” he said wryly.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, you.” She stopped in front of an open door and gestured toward the inside of the bedroom. “This will be your room, Pilar. I hope you like it.”
Pilar drew in a breath of wonder at the charmingly appointed room. “I love it. It’s so beautiful.”
Light and airy with sunlight filtering in from a large rectangular window, the view instantly beckoned her. She walked to the window and peered at the tree-lined street and festively decorated brownstones below. Turning, she gazed at the four-poster mahogany bed filled with fluffy pillows and topped by a plush white down comforter. She felt like sinking into it for a long nap after not having slept much last night.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m off to pick up Suzette at the doggie salon,” Emily announced.
“What kind of dog is she?” Pilar said.
“She’s a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and a little superstar. You’ll see when you meet her,” Emily predicted proudly.
“You act like that little rug rat is a celebrity,” Jake said.
Emily lifted her chin. “It’s a good thing your little sister isn’t present to hear your grumpy comment.”
Jake’s cough sounded like he was covering up a laugh. “Suzette is my little sis now? First I’ve heard of it.”
“I’ll have you know my Suzie Q is a style icon for dogs,” Emily said in mild reproach.
“Suzette has an Instagram account with nearly as many followers as The Sweet Spot,” he explained, his eyes gazing at the ceiling with forbearance.
“How fun. I’d love to see her account,” Pilar said.
“I’ll show it to you later.” Emily gazed at her son with a benevolent smile. “You will take Pilar to lunch, won’t you, dear?”
“Sure,” Jake said affably.
Emily gave a satisfied nod. “Pilar, if you need anything, just let Jake know, and he’ll take care of it.” She turned to her son. “Let’s meet at The Sweet Spot at three. I’ll give Pilar the grand tour and introduce her to the staff.” Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation. “They’re eager to meet you.”
“It’s mutual. I look forward to working with them,” she said.
When Emily and Jake left the room, Pilar hugged herself and pirouetted, thrilled to be in New York and excited about what the next few weeks would bring. She wanted to soar and experience adventures she’d never dreamed of.
She enjoyed creating desserts at Gabe’s restaurant, but she spent too many hours confined in the restaurant kitchen. From the opening week on, Tequila Sunset had been hopping busy with no respite for any of the employees.
She recalled her grandmother’s words last night when she’d called to wish her well. You are young and unattached. The perfect time to explore life to the fullest. Embrace it!
Someday, Pilar hoped to own a little shop of her own filled with delicious confections, but she needed capital and sales savvy. She admired Emily’s professional acumen and drive. She would learn a lot from shadowing her these next two weeks as she saw firsthand how she ran her business, especially the candy making aspect of it.
Pilar hadn’t mentioned her hopes of owning a candy shop to her family yet. The timing hadn’t been right with the whole Falcon clan immersed in making Gabe’s restaurant a success.
Maybe this would be the first step in making her dream come true…
Seated beside Jake at a small table in the bustling French bistro, La Cocotte, Pilar hungrily inhaled the aromatic steam rising up from the ramekin of onion soup. Filled with a rich, flavorful broth, perfectly caramelized onions and a slice of toasted bread covered in melted golden brown Gruyere cheese, it was the perfect antidote to the cold outside. That, and the arugula and grilled shrimp salad she’d ordered would more than satisfy her hunger.
Jake dug into his steak and pommes frites. “Have some fries.”
“Thanks.” Pilar munched on a crispy fry and helped herself to another. “They’re delicious. Do you work in the food industry?”
His brow creased. “No, what gave you that idea?”
“I thought you might because of your mom’s candy shop.”
“My line of business has nothing to do with candy. I’m an app developer in the wellness industry. I steer people towards healthy lifestyles, and that doesn’t include sweets.”
Did he have some unholy aversion to sweets? “There’s nothing wrong with sweets.” She leveled a saccharine smile at him. “It’s my specialty, you know.”
“I didn’t say there was. I just don’t have a sweet tooth.”
“No sweet tooth? That’s sacrilege,” she said, not kidding.
“I prefer savory to sweet.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “When it comes to food, that is…”
Their eyes met, and her pulse catapulted. He had the kind of eyes you could get lost in with cobalt blue irises and thick, sooty lashes. He held her gaze, his eyes darkening. Seconds ticked, and the room grew too warm.
Pilar loosened the scarf around her neck as heat infused her face. Was he flirting with her or toying with her? She wasn’t quite sure. She hadn’t dated much after her break-up with Ben, save for a few matchmaking efforts from her family, which never led to anything.
She took a sip of ice water and let the cool liquid glide down before she said, “How does Emily feel about that? Not having a sweet tooth, I mean,” she added when he hiked a brow.
“She finds it as confounding as the look on your face. No need to frown at me,” he said mildly.
“I didn’t realize I was frowning.” She gave a short laugh and relaxed her features. “Didn’t you enjoy sweets as a child?”
“On occasion, but not often. I played a lot of sports growing up. Ice hockey and Lacrosse. Athletes need protein, not sugar.”
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What a buzzkill. “I guess you don’t fit the description of happy as a kid in a candy store,” she said lightly. How ironic that he would someday inherit The Sweet Spot, yet he didn’t eat sweets.
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be me. What made you become a pastry chef?”
“Desserts make people happy. They sure make me happy,” she said with an unapologetic smile.
“I can see that.”
“When I was little, my grandmother used to make the desserts for the family restaurant with recipes passed down from generation to generation. I would stand next to Abuelita, that’s what we call her, on a stepstool in a little white apron and pretend I was a chef. Her hands worked magic; mine not so much,” she said with an amused lift of her shoulders. “Oftentimes things got a little messy, but I did my best to help her.”
His lips twitched as he watched her. “You must’ve looked cute with flour on your cheeks. Were you chubby-cheeked?”
“What do you think?”
“My guess is you were.”
“Maybe,” she said flippantly. She was used to her father and brothers—all alphas to the max—teasing the women in the family. “Sugar, butter and flour run through my veins. It’s part of my DNA.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It suits you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, drawn into his eyes again. Those dreamy eyes made her pulse race. She broke eye contact and tried to remember what he’d just said. “What were we talking about? Oh, yeah, your disdain for sweets.”
“I’m not saying I don’t eat any sweets. Just not candy.”
He was so yummy; she would gladly give him a pass. “That’s more like it.”
“Why is it important to you?” He gazed at her curiously.
“Your mother hired me to assist with the parties and create the desserts. I would hope you’d at least taste them.”
“I will.” The way he eyed her lips made her wonder if he meant he’d sample her desserts or her. She wouldn’t mind the latter…
“What are you envisioning for the party in terms of décor and menu? I already have the desserts planned,” she said.
The Holiday Sweet Spot: An opposites attract, gorgeous, feel-good romantic comedy (Falcons in Love Book 2) Page 2
