Dressed in Yellow: BBW Contemporary Romance Page 2

  The reporter eyed them both, eyes narrowed. “You sure look like the middle level mob associate suspected of numerous counts of-”

  “Closed.” Aiva repeated, refusing to roll her eyes.

  “Yeah, I was just here to pick up a bouquet. Why don’t you get that rung up for me, miss?”

  Aiva turned, heading toward her register. “Of course.” Behind the counter, she pulled out an extravagant bouquet of yellow and white exotic blooms interspersed with wildflowers, all set in a crystal vase. A canceled order. Setting it on the counter, she rang it up and aimed a bright smile at Daniel.

  “That’s $194.38,” she said with a wide smile. “Will that be cash or plastic?”

  Daniel froze one split second, then prodded by the suspicious reporter at his back, pulled out a wallet.

  A few minutes later, when the reporter lost interest and left, Aiva reached in the till and counted out two hundred dollars in cash.

  “Here you go, Daniel. Half of my payment that’s past due. I’ll have the other half tomorrow.” She smiled at him. “Guess our loan will stay current after all.”

  He stared at her for one long minute, then turned on his heels and stalked out.

  Chapter

  2

  Leon lounged on the plush leather couch in his den, one hand idly clicking channels, the other loosely holding a glass of red wine. It was a rare evening he forced himself to turn off the laptop- though his mind was never far from work- and just relax. He supposed his DVR was somewhere around 200% full and there were at least three different series he needed to catch up on. He considered, for an idle moment, actually taking a day off to do nothing more pressing than catch up on his favorite cooking shows. And there were still some lessons pending in his inbox from the last video assignment he’d turned into his instructor. He was paying top dollar for virtual gourmet cooking classes- he really needed to actually complete them.

  The bright yellow dress caught his attention. Well, that and the incredibly womanly body it encased. Rare these days that mere images produced any stir in his cock- pretty faces were a dime a dozen and any housewife or college brat could buy a decent set of tits. But fire in the eyes combined with wit and class- that was a rare combination. The kind of combination he craved, all packaged in a body he could explore for years to come.

  Daniel might not understand his interest in Aiviana’s business- the man certainly hadn’t bought the bullshit reasoning Leon had given him- but he soon would. Because she was already on his mind, when her image flashed across the screen his finger frozen on the remote, even though he wasn’t really paying attention to the picture.

  He unmuted the set, zooming the picture. Yes, it was definitely her. Large, cool black eyes surveying something in front of her with a calculation that thrilled him. Her hair in a loose bun, a red ribbon and flower caught in the dark curls. She looked classy, quirky, and sexy. A delectable combination of innocence and sexuality. And temper. Leon knew if she ever found out he’d been...observing... her the last several weeks without her knowledge she would be upset. He wouldn’t call himself a stalker- but how else was he supposed to learn anything about her before approaching? He didn’t like to lose; he preferred to come to her with knowledge in his arsenal. Knowledge of what would tempt her, frighten her, inspire her to dream of home and family. He’d watched her handle the men in her family, observed her interactions with her employees. Pulled up the financials on her business and looked at her personal spending habits. Spoken to people who knew her- and now, watching her on television and understanding instantly that she’d figured out a way to draw publicity to her business to drive sales. Clever, and ruthless. Almost, but not quite, skirting a line. Mob doll, indeed.

  It was time to introduce himself.

  ***

  Aiviana didn’t consider herself a giddy girl, but counting the till and totaling up deposits on future orders, she found her hips beginning to jiggle. Soon her chest joined in the party with a little shake and shimmy and by the time she balanced the daily book she’d made her way from behind the counter and was full out singing and dancing. Only the jingle of the goddamned bell warned her. She whirled; glad the hue of her summer brown skin hid most of her blush.

  “We’re closed,” she said sharply, then stopped short. Green eyes focused on her face, a small smile curving masculine lips. The pretty one from her cousin’s card game stood just inside the shop, hands in charcoal slacks.

  “Excuse my intrusion,” he said softly. “But we’re practically family.”

  “You are no relation of mine,” Aiva replied, unmoving. “I should recognize you but I don’t.”

  “I’m an associate of Daniel’s. You may have noticed me-”

  “At the card game. Yes. Why are you here?”

  He began to wander around the shop, pausing here and there to inhale the scent of flower, caress a leaf or petal. She’d decorated the shop in neutrals, evoking a lush, foresty look, a nod to Mandira’s earthy preferences.

  “You have a nice place here,” he said after a while. “And with all the free publicity I imagine business is doing well.”

  Well enough over the last few days that they’d booked a few weddings and fielded inquiries about providing flowers for the Green Gala coming up. Aiva also meant to discuss with Mandira the possibility of renting out the empty shop next door and using it to start an adjacent catering business. Dreams of morphing into a full out party company swirled in her head.

  “We’re getting by,” is what she said. “Look, do I need to call my cousins? If you have business to discuss with him, then-”

  “No.” He finally stopped poking around her shop and approached her, eyes measuring. “I’m aware you signed a contract with Daniel. The kind you don’t want to default on. I’m interested in buying that contract out.”

  She stared at him. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I like your business. I’m... interested in helping entrepreneurs just starting out. As a kind of mentor.”

  “Really. Why haven’t I heard of you before then? Our community isn’t a big one.” Meaning that if this man was known for small business loans to those who ran in her circles, she should know who he was, rather than just vaguely recognize his face from somewhere other than the garage the other week.

  “Ask around,” he replied pleasantly. “I’m sure someone will give you a character reference.”

  He took a step closer, managing to eat up the ground between them without losing any of the unhurried casualness of his movements.

  “I’m also...interested in you, Aiviana.” He smiled, darkly lashed eyes sly. “You know, you may not know me- but I’ve known you. For years.”

  “Okay, so that’s a little creepy,” she said, not quite involuntarily.

  He laughed. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? A woman can’t be too cautious these days.”

  She folded her arms under her chest, shifting on her tired, heeled feet. His gaze followed the movement and Aiviana didn’t even care that with his extra height he was getting a very nice view of what she had on tap. But, watching him, she saw that he politely skipped over the more exposed cleavage and skimmed the curve of her hips, before returning to her face. An ass man, then. When his eyes met hers again, the lazy green brightened into dagger bright jade, the steel underneath the nearly feminine color causing her to stiffen her knees to avoid taking an embarrassing step backwards. The amusement was gone from his face, leaving behind only the beautiful sculpted bones, dark hair carelessly mussed. His eyes spoke of ancient warriors, steel and a conqueror’s desire to sate himself in the woman he craved. Stirred in her an answering desire that caused her breath to skip and a tentative clenching of her insides. He was beautiful, to be sure...but she’d always required more than beauty.

  “I’m here to help you, not hurt you,” he said, softly. “I’d like to... get to know you a little better.”

  The man walked out of nowhere off the street claiming to know her- clearly he knew Daniel and he had the look o
f the old country about him- and just shied away from making a verbal declaration. Aiviana didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. Had he seen her on television and thought it would be fun to try out a local 15-minute celebrity?

  “What is your name? I’ll ask my brothers about you.”

  He held her gaze a long moment, then the intensity faded. “Leon. Sudano. Ask. I’ll be in touch for your decision.”

  “Decision?”

  “About the contract?” he prompted.

  “Oh!” She frowned. “I can give you an answer now. And it’s no. Thank you anyway, but I prefer the devil I know.”

  “I can be a devil,” he acknowledged, pulling a slim wallet out of his pocket. He fished through the folds and withdrew a plain white card. “In case you change your mind.”

  She shook her head, but took the card. “There isn’t an offer I can think of that I won’t refuse.”

  “Ah. You mistook me. Aiviana, my dear, when the time comes- you’ll make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  ***

  “How’d it go?”

  Leon grimaced, sliding into the passenger seat. His head of security, Theo, had insisted on driving. Claimed it made him look bad if he let Leon loose around town on his own too often.

  “Well.”

  “If she didn’t slap you, or laugh at you, I‘d say you’re a shoe in, boy.”

  Leon wondered about that. He’d watched her watch him, kohl lined dark eyes teetering between annoyance and skepticism. It was… unusual… for a woman not to respond to his advances right away. It had been easy to date in the past- nothing more intimate than dinner and kisses, thanks to his distaste over his parents’ philandering ways as he grew up- but now when it mattered, Leon knew his charm wouldn’t win him any points.

  “I don’t think she likes me,” he mused, adjusting the seat to stretch out his long legs.

  Theo snorted. “Never let something as petty as a woman’s mind stop you from getting what you want.”

  Leon appreciated the gist of the sentiment, though the delivery was somewhat lacking. He knew what he wanted; the whole, complete family he hadn’t had growing up. Knew he wanted it with Aiva, the girl he’d been watching grow up for years. The girl he’d never seen raise her voice, but yet wielded a subtle command over those in her presence. Who worked beside her parents to build their business when other girls were at the mall, or playing with boys.

  “She will be a good wife.”

  Theo nodded. “Yeah. Girl like her, raised to respect the old way of things? Won’t have to worry about her cheating, or babbling to the police. She’ll spend your money, though- good thing you gots plenty of it.”

  “Why would I have to worry about police, Theo? We rejected the dark side, remember? So I wouldn’t have to worry about my wife and family dealing with the consequences of business like I did.”

  Theo glanced at him. “You turned out all right. A few run ins with the coppas-“

  “No child should ever have to watch his mother defend him from enemies because his father is in jail.”

  Theo was silent a long moment. “Those were hard times. We got through them. Made us all stronger. And look what your Pa built to pass on to you.”

  Leon stared out the window. “My children will have a normal childhood, and a good mother.”

  The old man clapped him on the shoulder. “If that’s what you want, Aiva Losito your girl. May you have many healthy children.”

  ***

  She had work, so it took her a few days to ask around. Not only that, but the attention from various media outlets, bloggers, and organizations regarding the civil protest had her constantly fielding emails, phone calls, and customers. She had one joint interview booked with an online only newscast that specialized in green issues, and had agreed to co-author an article with the EarthDay chapter head for a small local magazine.

  When she got around to dealing with her personal life, Aiva felt hesitant to ask her brothers, so she branched out and spoke to some of the soldiers who came into her grandmother’s cafe for a plate of pasta and a glass of wine at the end of the night. Aiva often went there herself- sometimes to help if she were in the mood, sometimes to sit at the front counter and have her own meal. Being a single gal, she didn’t cook much in her kitchen at home- ironic, since the dark granite countertops and warm cabinets were one of the reasons she loved this house so much. She’d added her own homey touches over the years, filling each room with plants and fresh flowers, keeping colors neutral with pops of bold. Small violets tucked here and there in the kitchen where she liked to bake on the weekends, but work rarely let her enjoy making a meal. So she sat and chatted over lasagna and chocolate cake with a grizzled veteran who was more than happy to tell her all he knew about Leon Sudano.

  And when the old man was done, Aiva didn’t know if she should kick herself or be grateful she’d escaped his notice with her refusal. Because now she remembered why he sounded familiar.

  Leon Sudano was the son of the man who’d headed the largest, most powerful family in the state. His son had crawled his way out of the bloody politics of his father’s legacy to found a legitimate corporation- that was still respected. She had a hard time reconciling a ruthless baron from the old country with the nearly soft spoken, casual man who’d spoken to her in the shop.

  “Is he married?” Cause, come on, what else really mattered?

  “Leon? Nah,” the old man said. “Focused on the business. And he got his father’s old ways in him. Won’t court a gal unless he means to marry her. Wouldn’t shame her family that way, though some of these young ones act like these Americans, these days. Hopping from flower to flower but don’t want to buy the pot.”

  Aiva and Mandira were able to take a rare hour together over the weekend, sitting on the beige linen couch in Aiva’s home, going over business plans and sipping herbal tea. Mandira, though an employee, was also Aiva’s best friend.

  “Catering is a whole new ball game,” Mandira argued. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it- but I have relatives who own a bakery. Food can get tricky.”

  “We can start out small- capitalize on the media and maybe do green wedding receptions or host chapter meetings.”

  “Have you considered that a flower shop isn’t exactly green?” Mandira pointed out, voice a little wry. “I mean, plants are sustainable- but cut flowers that die in a few days?”

  “Nothing is perfect,” Aiva said.

  She reached for another piece of homemade shortbread when the doorbell rang.

  Rising, she brushed crumbs off her lap and approached the door, opening it after peeking through the hole.

  “Yes?”

  A liveried deliveryman stood with a white garment box, holding an electronic clipboard.

  “Aiviana Losito?”

  “Yes, that’s me. I’m not expecting-”

  He shoved the clipboard under her nose. She signed, taking the box and closing her door.

  “What is it?” Mandira asked. “A present? Oooohhh.”

  “Who would send me a present? It’s not my birthday or anything.”

  Aiva sat on the couch, pushing bright yellow and blue accent pillows out of the way, balancing the box on her lap, peeling the little bits of clear tape from the edges. When she opened the box and pushed aside plain white tissue paper, for a moment she didn’t understand what she was looking at. Then she drew the carefully folded yards of silky shimmery sari fabric from the box, Mandira silently helping her to drape the entire length across the couch so they could examine the colors and patterns.

  “It’s vintage, isn’t it?” Mandira asked.

  “Yes.” And expensive. The kind of fabric she spent months sourcing to make the little purses and pillows she sold in the shop- and the kind of fabric she used to make clothing for herself when she had time to indulge in her hobby. People often asked where she bought her dresses and skirts- and she never answered. Because she didn’t buy them anywhere. She made them from old patterns she purch
ased from eBay and other antique shops.

  “Look in the box. There might be a card.”

  Aiva picked the tissue out of the box and shook it. A small envelope fell out. Scooping it off the floor, she pulled out the square card and read the brief message.

  Waiting on the offer I can’t refuse.

  She tossed the card in the box, examining the sari fabric once again. Aiva’s lips curved in spite of herself. It would have been silly to send her flowers, and chocolates were too...pedestrian. The gift he had sent her showed he’d done his homework. He’d sent her a gift that would mean something to her- something she could use, cherish, and create beautiful things with.

  “Very clever,” she said aloud.

  Mandira looked at her curiously, shifting between feet. “Come on, who sent it.”

  “Leon Sudano.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “A...business man. A very wealthy, successful businessman.”

  “Why is he-” Mandira’s hazel eyes widened. “Is he hitting on you?”

  “Honorable men from the old country don’t ‘hit’ on women.”

  Mandira rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Has he asked you out? Of course he did, and you said no, or he wouldn’t be trying to bribe you with presents.” Mandira sighed. “Oh, Aiva. How long has it been since you went on a date. Is he ugly?”

  “Hardly.” Aiva began to fold the fabric carefully. “I shouldn’t accept this, but damn the man, he knew exactly what to tempt me with.”

  “Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Mandira grinned, a tinge of glee in her face and darted off to the kitchen table where their laptops were sitting. “I’m going Google him. Rich, huh? We’ll see in just a minute.”

  Aiva sighed.

  Chapter

  3

  Daniel continued to harass her throughout the week. Aiva barely tolerated his presence, and only because she was contractually obligated. His fixation on the increasing media coverage due to the shutdown of the main street by who were now dubbed the “BeeKeepers” had him breathing down her neck to do something.