Get You Good (5 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Bowen

BOOK: Get You Good
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Lissandra pointed a finger. “You're insane.”
“And you're over your break time.” Sydney glared at her sister for emphasis.
Lissandra scowled and moved around Sydney's heavy cherry-wood desk to head back to the main customer area. “Fine, I'm going. But Syd, please don't send back those tickets. He probably got them for free as a member of the management team so it's not like it cost him that much. Just think about it, OK?”
Sydney tapped the pen against the desk. “OK. I'll think about it. Then I'll send them back.”
Lissandra shook her head as she turned to leave. “Some girls have all the luck. If a brother got me tickets like that, I would definitely give him the time of day.”
When she was sure her sister was gone, Sydney pulled up the Internet window with Hayden's info again. So he wasn't giving up. She had to admit she was a tiny bit impressed. She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about him a few times since the weekend.
OK, fine, a lot of times.
But she didn't have time for a man—especially one like Hayden. She had enough drama in her life as it was, like figuring a way to not lose the thing that mattered most to her in the world.
She glanced at the picture again and sighed. It sure would have been fun, though.
Taking out a new envelope, she slipped the tickets in and wrote “Mario Santos” on the front. Then she grabbed her purse, keys, and a list of errands before heading for the door. On her way out, she stuck her head in the kitchen.
“Hey, Mario.”
“What up, boss?” Mario asked, coming closer.
She stuck the envelope into his hand.
“Here's your second chance,” she said, turning to leave. “Don't waste it.”
Chapter 5
T
he Blakes's twenty-fifth-anniversary party was all class and elegance, as was expected from a family that owned more land and property in the city than any other private holder. Truthfully, Sydney had never even heard of the Blakes before Charlotte walked through the doors of Decadent. But once she did her research, she realized they were attached to several hotels, condos, and apartment buildings around Toronto. These people were in a social circle that Sydney hadn't even known existed. She was playing in a whole new tax bracket.
Sydney tried not to gawk as she took in the high ceilings of the banquet hall in the Blakes's ten-thousand-square-foot home. The heels on her neutral pumps sank into the plush carpet, muting the sound of her steps as she wandered easily through the crowd. Lissandra had taken off as soon as the cake had been delivered, choosing to opt out of spending the night with a roomful of old white married men. That meant Sydney was flying solo. And even though the crowd was mixed in age and race, Sydney hadn't seen a familiar face since Charlotte had disappeared to check on the drinks a half hour earlier. She didn't mind, though. That just meant more potential business to drum up.
“Sydney, there are some people that I want you to meet.”
She let Charlotte lead her through the crowd of mingling guests to near the front of the room.
“Charles and Diane, this is Sydney Isaacs, the creator of your anniversary cake,” Charlotte said with a big grin. “Sydney, this is Charles and Diane Blake, the anniversary celebrants.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Blake,” Sydney said, smiling as she took the hand of the distinguished-looking man and then his slightly younger-looking wife. “And congratulations on your anniversary.”
“Thank you,” Diane said, her pale skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes as she smiled warmly at Sydney. “The cake is absolutely breathtaking.”
She slipped her arm through her husband's. “I was just telling Charles, it's so beautiful that I'm not sure I even want to cut it.”
“Well, you have to cut it,” Charlotte said. “Because I can assure you, it tastes just as good as it looks.”
“Listen to the event planner, honey,” Charles said. “She speaks wisdom.”
As they laughed, a much younger couple, closer to Sydney's age, joined them.
“Oh, Sydney, please meet our children, Will and Elise,” Diane said, beckoning the two closer. “Children, this is the woman who made our anniversary cake. Elise, you should think about using her for your wedding.”
Elise nodded. “It is beautiful. I was just telling my fiancé that we should do something creative like that for our wedding, instead of the normal round cakes stacked on top of each other. I'll definitely have to have my planner give you a call.”
Sydney grinned. “I look forward to it.”
“I wish we could give Will some similar advice, but unfortunately, he seems unwilling to give us the one anniversary gift we really want,” Charles said with a stern look at his son.
Sydney swore she saw Will roll his gray eyes. But the dimple in his handsome face gave away the amusement with which he regarded his father.
“I'll leave the wedding talk to Elise,” he said with a small smile. “I think she's putting you and your pocketbook through enough with that.”
Elise slapped her brother playfully as their mother laughed.
Another group of well-wishers approached them and Sydney nodded her exit as she made space for the new arrivals. She was about to step away when she realized Will was still in her path.
“So do pastry chefs know how to dance? Or are their skills limited to the kitchen?” he asked with a teasing grin.
“Some of us are known to be multiskilled,” Sydney said, going along with him.
“Then let's see if you're one of them,” he said, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”
Sydney let Will lead her and her nude-colored dress into the space in the large room reserved for dancing. Most of the guests seemed to have the same idea and slowly the floor began to fill with waltzing couples. Sydney had almost run out of small talk with Will when she heard a throat clear behind her. She saw Will look over her head and grin.
“Can I cut in?”
Sydney turned around and rolled her eyes when she saw who it was.
“Hayden, my man, glad you could make it,” Will said, shaking Hayden's hand.
Sydney shook her head. Unbelievable. Did everyone know him?
“You know I had to be here for your folks'anniversary,” he said. “Dad wanted to be here also, but unfortunately he was a bit under the weather this evening.”
Sydney thought of moving away, but she was stuck in the middle of the dance floor between two men who were both taller and broader than she. Making an exit would be a bit challenging.
“I see you met Sydney,” Hayden continued.
Will glanced down at Sydney, surprised. “You know each other?”
Sydney sighed. “Yes.”
“Sydney and I actually grew up together,” Hayden said.
“Look at that,” Will said. “Isn't the world a small place?”
“Indeed,” Hayden said. “You mind if I steal her away for a bit?”
“Not at all.” Will stepped back. “As long as she promises to save a dance for me.”
Sydney smiled as she realized she had no escape. “Of course.”
Sydney turned around to face Hayden as Will abandoned her on the dance floor.
“Are you stalking me?” she asked.
He slipped an arm around her waist and threaded his fingers through her other hand, drawing her closer to him.
“Did you get the tickets?” he asked as he began moving them around the floor.
“Yes,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“Are you coming to the game?”
“You still haven't answered my question,” she said. “Are you stalking me?”
“Why would I do something like that?” he asked innocently as led her into a half spin that took Sydney by surprise.
“I don't know,” Sydney said after she caught her breath. “Maybe because you're not used to taking no for an answer.”
“No, Sydney, I am not stalking you,” he said, pulling her even closer to him.
“Then why are you here?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed, even though she had adjusted to his closeness by moving her hand from his shoulder to around his neck.
“Maybe you should answer the question of why you're here,” he said easily.
“That's easy. I'm here to work,” she said staunchly.
“Thanks to Charlotte, right?”
Sydney paused and tilted her head back to look at him.
“Right.”
He leaned forward, placing his lips right by her ear. “Who do you think told Charlotte about you?”
Of course. He did. That's why Charlotte had been so cagey about who recommended Decadent to her.
Sydney sighed and relaxed.
“You don't give up, do you,” she said, resting her head on his chest.
“No,” he said, placing her other hand around his neck, as he put both of his around her waist. “But you sure don't make it easy for a brother.”
“Now how would that be fun for you?” she asked, a smile lifting her lips. “You always liked a challenge.”
“And you certainly were that,” he said with a laugh.
“Aw, are you saying I'm the one that got away?” she asked, tilting her head back to meet his eyes.
He snorted. “More like the one I could never catch.”
Sydney grinned. “That's the nicest thing you've ever said to
me.”
“I'll say more nice things if you'll go out with me,” he said, taking her into another quick spin. Man, was he good on his feet. She shook her head and tried to focus on his last statement.
“This again, Dub?”
He shook his head. “Nini, you have to be the most stubborn woman I have ever met in my entire life.”
“Because I won't go out with you?”
“Because you want to, but you won't,” Hayden said, his eyes challenging her to disagree.
Sydney bit her lip and looked away. He got her there.
“How's your dad?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes but let her change the subject. “He's old.”
“What?”
“And he won't retire.”
Sydney laughed. “Of course he won't. He loves his job.”
“But I wish he loved his life as much,” Hayden said, his brow furrowing. “He's almost seventy and his doctors say he needs to slow down. His wife says he needs to slow down. Christian says he needs to slow down. He was supposed to be here tonight, but he was so tired he couldn't make it. You would think that would be a sign for him to start taking it easy. But he's trying not to hear any of that.”
Sydney gazed at him with empathy, all too familiar with the habits of a workaholic father. “Is that why you came back? So you could get him to slow down?”
“That was part of the reason.” Hayden frowned. “Though it doesn't seem to be working.”
“Give him time,” Sydney said. “You and I both know you can't get a black man to do anything he doesn't want to do.”
“True,” he said, gazing down at her. “And unless you want this black man to do something you don't want me to do, I suggest you stop stroking my neck like that.”
Sydney's hands froze and her eyes widened. “I'm sorry.” She hadn't even realized she had been doing it.
His gaze heated her to the core. “I'm not.”
Sydney jumped away from him, narrowing her eyes.
“What's wrong, Syd?” He grinned mischievously. “Scared to dance with me now?”
“No,” she said with more certainty than she felt. What had she been thinking?
“So why all this distance?”
“No reason.” She rubbed a hand against the nape of her neck. “Just a bit winded.”
She fanned her hand near her face. “Whew. Haven't danced this much in a while.”
Hayden folded his arms. “Really.”
Sydney was saved from answering by the end of the music and a hand urging her forward.
“Sydney, the cake, we need you.”
Charlotte was pulling on her arm and leading her over to the side of the room where all eyes were focused. By the time she was close enough, she realized they were about to cut the cake and wanted her present to take a few photos. She smiled at the cameras when it was her turn, and cheered with the rest of the crowd as Charles and Diane cut the first slice, but the whole time she couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with her and Hayden.
And since she couldn't come up with a suitable explanation, as soon as the music started up again, she was out the door and in her car. Because even though she didn't know what had gone on between her and Hayden, she wasn't about to take a chance that it would happen again.
Chapter 6
“S
ydney, you're needed up front.”
Sydney put her hand over the phone receiver. “Coming,” she shouted toward the open door. She directed her attention back to the phone.
“Dean, I know one hundred fifty thousand is a lot less than three hundred fifty thousand, but understand that I don't have that money right now. . . .”
“Sydney, this is important,” Wendy called from outside Sydney's door.
“Handle it—I'm busy!” she shouted at the door again.
“Look, Syd, I am trying to be as reasonable about this as I can, but I can't put my life on hold for you,” Dean said impatiently from the other end. “This guy is willing to sell me this space for one hundred K. The other fifty is just enough to cover my initial expenses. And he's on a clock, so it's not like I can wait forever.”
“Dean, I understand, believe me. But isn't there some other way you can get the money. . . .”
“Sydney!” Lissandra was at the door, a look of urgency on her face. “We need you. Like now. No buts.”
“Look, it sounds like things are busy over there,” Dean said. “We'll talk later.”
“Dean, wait—”
Sydney heard the click as her brother hung up the phone.
“Sydney . . .”
“What!” she snapped at her sister.
Lissandra pursed her mouth and Sydney knew her sister was restraining herself from cursing Sydney out.
“You need to see this,” Lissandra finally said.
Gritting her teeth, Sydney got up from her desk and followed Lissandra out of the office and down the hallway. Before she even got to the main customer area, she could tell that something was going on. The after-eight period was always busiest because that was when the first-daters and the after-dinner crowds came in for coffee and dessert. But tonight it was louder than usual. Staff had paused serving; even a few guests were on their feet to see whatever was going on. And those who weren't standing all had their eyes turned in the same direction, toward the back of the shop.
Sydney's heart began to beat faster.
“What's going on? What's wrong?” she hissed at Lissandra as she followed her around the L-shaped guest area.
“See for yourself.”
Lissandra stepped aside and suddenly Sydney was looking at the back area of the restaurant. Several tables had been pulled together to make one large table seating eight. That and a corner booth were completely occupied with men. Tall, muscular men. All dressed in sporting gear.
Toronto Raptors sporting gear.
“Is it . . .”
“Yes,” Lissandra whispered from beside her. “It's our local NBA franchise. Your boy brought the whole team.”
As soon as Lissandra said “your boy,” Sydney saw him. He had stood up from the corner booth and was walking toward her, his chocolate brown eyes cataloguing her every move like a ball in play. And for all her knowing better, she hoped that he caught her. When he finally came to a stop, just inches in front of her, she gazed up at him. He returned her stare, a small smile on his lips. Sydney finally cracked, a smile breaking her lips.
“You didn't come to the game.” His voice was so low she wasn't sure how she heard him over the din of the room.
“I had to work.”
“So Lissandra told me,” he said, nodding toward her sister, but never taking his eyes off Sydney. “She said you do that a lot.”
“The burden of the independent woman.” Sydney shrugged and crossed her arms in unison.
“I see.” He smiled. “Well, since you wouldn't come to me, I decided to come to you.”
Sydney glanced behind him. “Looks like you brought a few friends.”
“I like to make an impression.”
“I hope your impression doesn't put me out of business,” Sydney said. “I don't know if we have enough coffee and cake in the kitchen to feed all your boys.”
He laughed. “I think you'll manage. And I think it will make a good impression if you join your special guests for dessert.”
“Oh, I can't. I have to check on the kitchen. . . .”
“No, you don't,” Lissandra said. Sydney looked around, surprised that her sister was still there. “I've got it under control.”
“But—” Sydney pleaded with her sister, a don't-make-me-do-this look in her eyes.
Lissandra yanked Sydney away and pressed her mouth to her sister's ear.
“If you don't sit your tiny behind down and have dessert with that fine, spectacularly toned man, who can get me courtside tickets, I will nail your butt to a chair and make you do it. Got it?”
Sydney smiled at Hayden while detangling herself from Lissandra's death grip.
“So where am I sitting?”
With a hand on her back, Hayden steered her over to the corner booth, where three other guys were seated.
“Everyone, this is Sydney. Sydney, this is Sean Denary, Brian Packman, and Gary Forbes,” he said, introducing her to the three players at the table.
“Hey, I know you,” Sydney said, brightening as she looked at Gary Forbes. “I've heard your name on the radio.”
Gary laughed. “She's cute, Dub. I like her.”
“Yeah, well, don't like her too much,” Hayden said. The other guys laughed.
“Nice to meet all of you,” Sydney said with a smile.
“Oh no, the pleasure is ours,” Brian said. “We couldn't wait to meet the woman that had Dub watching the stands harder than he was watching us the other night.”
“Whatever,” Hayden said, shaking his head. “I was not.”
“Yes, you were,” Brian and Gary said at the same time before laughing. Sydney couldn't help but laugh also.
“So why'd you flake on us, Sydney?” Sean asked. “You're not into basketball? Or did Dub's ugly mug scare you off.”
Sydney laughed. “No. I had to work—”
A mutual sound of disapproval went up from all the men around the table.
Hayden leaned toward her and she got a whiff of his cologne.
“Tough crowd, eh?”
“A little,” she said, looking up into his smiling eyes. “You would think they would cut a working woman some slack.”
Just then the dessert plates with larger-than-normal portions started arriving at the table. When all the plates had been put down, including one for Sydney, Sean looked up at Hayden.
“You want to do the thing, Dub?”
Hayden nodded and turned to Sydney. “Do you mind if we pray over our food?”
Sydney blinked several times, surprised.
“Uh, no. Not at all.”
Every head lowered and Hayden said grace. When he was done, everyone dug in and the chatter went up again, but Sydney's eyes stayed on Hayden.
“What?” he asked after a moment.
She shook her head and smiled. “I never heard someone pray over dessert before.”
“Well, if this red velvet cake is anything like your dad's back in the day, I better pray that I don't get a heart attack,” he said, digging in.
She couldn't help but watch as he took the first forkful into his mouth. She smiled. The satisfied sound he made in his throat gave her a warm satisfying feeling in her tummy. She had made that cake herself.
“So what did Dub tell you to get you all to come down here anyway?” Sydney asked, slipping a small bite of pumpkin pie into her mouth.
“Well, he didn't really ask us,” Brian said, articulating with his fork. “It was supposed to be just him and Sean. But then when we heard where he was going, we decided to crash his party.”
Hayden shook his head as Sydney laughed.
“Wow, you guys must be really close,” she said.
“Well, you know, Dub is a cool brother,” Brian said, glancing at Hayden.
“Sure, he's our trainer, but he's also one of us, you know?” said Gary. “He used to play in the league. In fact, he should
still
be playing in the league. . . .”
“All right, all right, let's not get into that.” Hayden threw up his hands with a small smile. “My days on the court are gone, and I'm fine with that. I love what I do. And I love having a front-row seat to watch you guys do what you do.”
“See what I mean?” Gary turned to Sydney. “Dub is good people.”
“But anyway,” Sean said. “What had happened was, practice ended early and we noticed that Dub was trying to give us the slip. So I was like, dog, where you going? And he was trying to play it off and act like it wasn't nothin' serious, but then we find out that he was going to the restaurant of the woman who stood him up Sunday. . . .”
Sydney glanced over at Hayden. He had a look of amusement on his face as he listened to Sean.
“So of course, being the friend I am, I invited myself along,” Sean said with a grin.
“And anywhere Sean goes, those two go,” Hayden said. “Before I knew it, all the guys were here.”
“Well, most of us anyway,” Brian said with a grin. “We figured, dessert with some entertainment at Dub's expense.”
Hayden shook his head as they laughed. “I am never telling you guys anything again.”
“Aw,” Sydney said, nudging him with her shoulder. “You should be happy you have a team that cares about you that much.”
“Yeah, you heard that, Dub?” Sean said. “Happy.”
“I'll tell you one thing, Sydney,” Gary said, putting a forkful of mint chocolate cheesecake into his mouth. “This cake right here? This is making me happy.”
“Mhmm,” Brian agreed. “Compliments to your chef. We will definitely be popping back here. Right, Dub?”
“Not without me you won't,” Hayden jokingly threatened.
The guys continued trading barbs and teasing Hayden. Sydney watched as he took it all in stride. Despite the jokes, she could tell that the players really respected Hayden and that made her respect him. When they finally moved to leave after ordering seconds and in some cases thirds, Sydney couldn't believe that almost forty minutes had passed.
“Sydney, pleasure to meet you, hope you'll make it to the next game,” Brian said with a grin as he followed the guys toward the exit.
“Yeah, Dub always has tickets,” Sean added. “Make sure he gets you a couple.”
“Thanks, guys.” Sydney waved to them as they left.
Hayden relaxed back in the booth and let out a sigh as he watched the guys leave.
“Too much to handle, Dub?” Sydney teased.
He grinned. “Sometimes. But I love those guys. I just met them, but they're like family—even when they're giving me hell.”
“Well, they sure made my evening,” Sydney said, shifting in the booth so she could face him.
“Only them?” Hayden asked with a raised eyebrow.
Sydney smiled coyly. “It was the package.”
His eyes sparkled at hers. “Thanks for hanging with me. After the Blakes's party and you not showing up last night, I thought I didn't have a chance.”
Sydney raised an eyebrow. “Who said you do?”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure I do.” He grinned slyly.
“I don't remember saying anything to suggest that,” Sydney said in mock seriousness.
“Please, you were all over me during dessert,” Hayden said. “Rubbing your shoulder up against me, caressing my hand . . .”
“I was passing you a napkin!”
“. . . rubbing your leg against mine.”
“I needed to get out of the booth.”
“Always putting your hands on me . . .”
“I was not,” Sydney said, slapping him playfully.
“See, you did it again.” He shook his head. “You can't keep your hands off me, can you?”
Sydney folded her arms and tried to glare at him, but ended up smiling.
“You are terrible, you know that?” she said.
She shook her head as she let her eyes take in the whole Hayden package. He was beautiful. And not just because of the whole lose-your-breath-gorgeous thing he had going on. It was something else. He was different from the boy she had known years ago. Different in ways that made it harder for her to ignore her growing attraction to him. And she was tired of trying.
What was the worst that could happen anyway?
“OK, fine, maybe you have a chance,” she said, leaning back in the booth beside him.
“Good,” he said, handing her his phone. “'Cause I'm not waiting another week to see you again. Next time without the six-foot chaperones.”
“How's this weekend?” she asked, as she put her number into his phone and handed it back to him.
He slipped it into his pocket and turned to meet her eyes. “How's tomorrow?”
She grinned. “That works, too.”
“Good, I'll text you the details,” he said, standing up. He smiled at her as he backed away. “And this time, please show up.”
She laughed. That was not something he had to worry about. Not at all.

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