Buch lesen: «Love And A Latte»

To my father, James.

Just because he likes having books dedicated to him.

Acknowledgments

Pamela and Yahrah, thanks for putting up with the dozens upon dozens of emails.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Copyright

Chapter 1

Numbers were always something Chase Drayson excelled at. They were the only things in the world that always made sense to him. They were concrete. Always easy for him to figure out, to play with. He was unlike his sister and brother, who were good at those intangible things. Immeasurable things. Creative things like dealing with people and coming up with outside-of-the-box ideas that Chase just couldn’t wrap his head around. That’s why he’d spent his entire career in corporate finance. Growing the profits of the businesses he worked for as well as creating wealth for himself.

People who didn’t know him well might call him money hungry. But he didn’t like the phrase because it implied that he was greedy. He wasn’t. He’d just always liked to work. Earn for himself instead of being handed things. The summer he turned eight, he ran his neighborhood’s only lemonade stand, creating a market analysis summary complete with potential growth in his target markets. At fourteen he had organized a team of teenage lawn mowers who’d made more profit that quarter than one local landscaping company. And by seventeen he was doing pretty swift business employing his friends and classmates to walk dogs and feed the cats of his vacationing neighbors.

He definitely wasn’t money hungry. He didn’t buy diamond-encrusted watches or spend foolishly on flashy things with little value that he didn’t need. He was hungry for organization and structure. Hungry to see something that he managed grow into the something big and successful. He liked to know that his money was working for him. Know that each hour he invested was going to pay off tenfold.

He wasn’t sure how other people could go through life not doing that. People who were content just to sit back and let things happen for them. People who could just go where the wind blew them. The thought of that made Chase shudder. That’s why he was sitting in the café section of his family’s new bakery, Lillian’s of Seattle, far past closing time, going over the finances. Again. Tweaking the business plan. Studying the market analysis summary he had created.

They were doing well by most people’s standards. They’d had a successful opening month and were on track to maintain steady business. His parents thought he and his siblings were crazy for deciding to take on the running of a bakery when they had no experience. They were old-school, wanting their children to only have careers with steady incomes that they could always count on, but Chase, Jackson and Mariah Drayson sometimes had to ignore the well-intentioned advice of their parents.

They had to take this calculated risk because Chase knew it could really pay off. And besides, running a bakery seemed to be in their blood. Their extended family had been doing so in Chicago for two generations and were starting to branch out around the country.

His baby sister had left her job in advertising to bake for them after her divorce was final. She was surprisingly excellent at it. And a creative force, too, inventing the Draynut, a combination of a croissant and doughnut that people were going wild for. Mariah was bringing customers in by the droves and her creation was the boost their small business needed. But Chase knew all about fads and trends, and while things were going well now, they could crash and burn in no time. He knew that even businesses with successful openings had a high risk of failing in the first year.

In every job that Chase worked, he always did his best to succeed, but making Lillian’s a success was more important to him than any other job he had ever had. Because Lillian’s was all about family and tradition. The Seattle shop was the third bakery. The original, started by the Chicago branch of his family and run now by his cousins, was an institution in the Windy City. He wanted the Seattle shop to have the same legacy as the original.

He secretly wanted it to be better than the original.

It was a challenge. He hadn’t had a real challenge in a long time. That’s why when Mariah sprung this idea on him, even though he was apprehensive, he agreed. As the eldest he felt it was his job to make sure this place flourished.

Chase had done his research. He knew an upscale, well-positioned bakery could do well in Seattle. It could outearn the original bakery if managed properly and he knew of no better man for the job than him. So he had taken a leave of absence from work and thrown everything he had into making Lillian’s a success. The only thing that was sticking in his side was the competition.

Sweetness Bakery. It had dominated the market in Seattle, and for the life of him, Chase couldn’t figure out why. He had gotten pastries there himself once or twice. But from what he remembered there was nothing exceptional about them. Nothing that made him want to go back. Not the decor. Not the coffee. Not the customer service.

Lillian’s was superior to them in every way. The homey, elegant interior. The superior coffee from their new partner, Myers Coffee Roasters, and the stomach-growling sweet smells from the pastries put them leaps and bounds above the competition. Even though the bakery was closed now, the scent of fine coffee and great baked goods stayed with him.

And it was then he realized that a large steaming coffee concoction and a plate of chocolate-drizzled butter popcorn cookies had been slid in front of him.

“It looks like you could use this,” he heard a soft, feminine voice say. He looked up to see a woman standing in front of him. She was the barista. He had noticed her before because she was cute. Petite but curvy with beautiful smooth brown skin and a head full of bouncy curls. And she always wore something bright. Yellow. Orange. Pink. She didn’t seem like the type of girl who hid in corners. And she was smiling at him now. That’s what he remembered the most about her, the way she smiled at their customers. Warm and welcoming. It was a smile that made a person feel at home. She was the kind of employee that they needed at Lillian’s. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember her name.

“Thank you...”

Annie?

Amy?

Ashley.

“You don’t remember my name, do you, Mr. Chase Drayson? Oldest of the Drayson siblings. Wharton School of Business grad and Mr. Money-Guy. I think I’m hurt.” She flashed him a smile he could only describe as flirty while she took the seat across from him. “I’m Amber. Amber Bernard. We’ve met before. I work here. In the bakery. As the barista. Remember?”

She had great eyes, too. Wide. Almond shaped. Almost innocent-looking. They kind of sparkled when she smiled. “That much I do remember. I’m sorry.” He felt a beat of attraction that wasn’t expected. He’d never thought he had a type, but she wasn’t the usual sort of woman he was drawn to with her flirty smile and funky style. He couldn’t help but take note of the flowy top and snug, body-hugging jeans she wore. “I was caught up in work. Everything else seems to fade away when I am.”

“I could tell. I was doing the cancan right in front of you for fifteen minutes.”

She smiled at him again and this time he smiled back. “Really? I’m sorry I missed that. It must have been quite a show.”

“It was.” She held her head haughtily, which caused him to laugh. “I may have short legs, but these girls can kick.”

* * *

Amber watched Chase as he picked up his steaming mug and took a long sip.

Good Lord, he’s a beautiful man.

And he was, when his head wasn’t buried in his laptop. She wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her. Every time she saw him, he was busy working or talking about work or walking around deep in thought. And she knew those thoughts must be about work, too. He was the most serious of the Drayson siblings. Mariah, who had become her friend, was sweet, creative and lovely. Jackson was personable and a flirt, but Chase... She didn’t know much about Chase except he worked hard, and his siblings not only loved him, but looked up to him. He was a brilliant, successful guy. It was written all over him.

“So how are things?” she asked him when he put his cup down.

“With the business? Or personally?” He nodded toward the mug. “That is excellent, by the way. What is it?”

“I call it caramel brûlé coffee. Made with milk, caramel sauce, brown sugar and whipped cream.”

“I like it.”

“I thought you would. A lot of men drink their coffee black because they think it’s manly, but I can tell you are a man who likes some things sweet.”

He gave her another smile showing off his perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. He was just a beautiful man all around, and now that Amber was sitting right across from him she could see how handsome he was up close.

Handsome but buttoned up. Literally. It was late and yet he sat there looking almost as pristine as he did when he’d walked in that morning. She had the urge to rumple him up. Get him a little messy. Pop a few buttons on his shirt. Maybe see a bit of that big strong chest he was hiding under there.

There was no doubt she found him attractive. Not that she was interested or anything. She didn’t mix business with pleasure, and he was technically her boss. But she found him beautiful like an artist might find a sculpture beautiful. All fine lines and strong curves.

“Have a cookie.” She slid the plate closer to him. She should have just left after she cleaned up, like she had every other time she’d closed the bakery. She should have just gone home, but the only thing she really had to look forward to there was a textbook with her name on it. It was all a part of getting her MBA.

“I thought Mariah was crazy when she told me she wanted to put these on the menu.” He took a bite. “But they’re good.”

“Your sister is amazingly creative. It’s not work for her to create these recipes. She really thinks it’s fun.”

“Fun.” He nodded. “That sounds like my sister.”

“We’ve become good friends. I used to work for Everett at another location of Myers. I’m glad they ended up together.” Mariah had fallen in love with Amber’s widowed former boss and his young son and she was truly happy for them. Both of them had faced a lot of tragedy in their pasts, but they were on their way to becoming a wonderful little family. “She mentioned planning a vacation for them all after the Bite of Seattle festival in a couple of months.”

“She deserves it.” He nodded.

“What about you? You work hard.” She took a cookie off the plate and sunk her teeth into it. Butter and chocolate. Sweet-and-salty perfection. “Mmm.” She shut her eyes for a moment and just savored the decadent treat. She had worked around pastry for a long time, but the pastries at Lillian’s were enough to make anyone go off their diet.

“If that’s what you look like when you eat a cookie, then I wonder what you look like when...you do other enjoyable things.”

Her eyes popped open when she heard Chase’s voice. He was looking at her. Staring, really, and she felt self-conscious. Which was odd for her. Men didn’t normally make her feel that way, but Chase Drayson did. “Do you have any fun summer plans?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I plan on working.”

“Working? That’s incredibly disappointing.”

“Not to me. I like to work.”

She believed him. He looked like one of those men who lived for the opportunity to be chained to a desk. He was so different from her—who merely thought of a life sitting behind a desk and broke out in hives. “You can’t spend your whole life working. You might explode one day, or worse, look back on life when you’re an old man and regret that you didn’t live your life to the fullest.”

“You must think I’m a stuffy old son of a bitch.”

“I don’t,” she said truthfully. Sitting across from him in the dimly lit store, she could see how attractive he was, how tall he held himself, how his clothes fit his hard body The words stuffy and old hadn’t come to mind. “But I think if you spend your life only working and never playing that you’ll turn into one.”

“I went on safari last year. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I live,” he said, his voice kind of low and sexy. “I work hard so I can live the life I want to. If I have any regrets, not enjoying my life wouldn’t be one of them.”

“A safari?” That surprised her. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He had a little bit of adventure inside him. Maybe Mr. Workaholic played as hard as he worked, and she found that extremely interesting. “Tell me what it was like.”

His eyes got this almost far-off dreamy look and she knew he was picturing the journey in his mind. “I don’t know if there are strong enough words to describe it.”

“Try.” She wanted to be inside his head in that moment. She wanted to be with him as he saw again what he’d experienced.

“It was a ten-day trip,” he started. “And each day was better than the one before. I went on the Skyline in a tiny gondola to the top of the mountain. You feel like you are literally on top of the world and nothing and no one can stop you from doing anything you have ever wanted to do. The sea is below you, and butterflies and birds are flying around you and there are lizards sunning themselves on the rocks. And you remember that nature is the most beautiful thing ever created and no man or machine could ever make anything as beautiful.”

“Sounds incredible.” She could almost see it. The way he spoke about his trip, the sound of his soft, deep voice combined with the descriptions kind of mesmerized her, kind of floated around and soothed her. He should narrate a movie. He should tell more stories. He had a beautiful voice even if it was a quiet one and she wanted to hear him speak more.

“That was just the first day. We went to the Cape of Good Hope and to Boulders Beach to see the penguins. And then there was a tour of the primate sanctuary.”

“Stop. Just stop before I die of jealousy.” She clutched her heart dramatically. “A primate sanctuary. Please tell me you have pictures.”

He shook his head, laughing. “Hundreds of them. I didn’t get to the actual safari part yet.”

“Save it. We’ll need something to talk about the next time I close up and you work late.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she was inviting herself to get to know him better, inviting herself to see him again. It was a mistake. She’d come over here because he was so hard at work and he was her good friend’s brother, who she knew next to nothing about, and she wanted him to pull his eyes off his screen and put them on her. She hadn’t counted on being mesmerized by his deep chocolaty voice or slightly turned-on by the way his lips formed words, by the way his eyes lit when he talked about something he was passionate about. “I’ve got to get home anyway and hit the books.”

“The books?” He seemed genuinely curious. “What are you studying?”

“I’m in grad school. Going for my MBA. I’m an artist, or a jewelry designer, to be exact. I’m focusing on marketing and branding.” She lifted the intricately wire-wrapped pendant that was nestled between her breasts. “I specialize in wire work.”

He grabbed her wrist, lifting it closer to his face and she felt tingles rush up her arm and travel all over her body at his touch. It was unexpected and a little exciting. But it wasn’t the kind of excitement she needed in her life right now.

“You made these, too?” He studied the gold wire bracelets on her wrists. “This one says your name. I don’t think I’m likely to forget it anymore.” He ran his thumb over it. The sensation of his warm thumb combined with the smooth metal against her skin made her heart beat just a little faster. “Very impressive, Miss Amber. You’re the real deal, aren’t you? I don’t have a creative bone in my whole body.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound breathless. “There are tons of way to be creative.” She looked up into his eyes. “You just haven’t found yours yet.”

“I guess not.” He held her gaze, never looking away. Those eyes. The way he looked at her. It could make most women swoon. But technically he was her boss and she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, a lover or any unnecessary attachment.

She had started this little interlude with the intention of simply being friendly. But it was ending with her feeling more than just that.

“I should go now.”

“You should. It’s late.”

“You should go home, too, Drayson.”

“I will.” He shut his laptop and stood. “Let me walk you to your car. I don’t want you walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time without you, Chase.”

“But now that I know your name, I wouldn’t feel right about letting that happen. Especially if I knew there was something I could do to change it.”

Whoa. This man. She might be headed for trouble.